[FROM THE BUST IN THE CAPITOL AT AUGUSTA, MAINE, MADE BY JACKSON, OF FLORENCE, AT THE CLOSE OF THE WAR ]

Joshua & chantertain

Bot. Major Heal 1.5.V.
Comedy.
1t Div 5th Corks,

picket watch, where no eye but God's beheld, rather than give place to unmanly weakness you froze stark dead upon your post, eyes to the front; not so when, hurled with desperate repetition to fruitless assault, without the hesitation of a thought, with the all-conquering spirit of discipline and devotion, claiming only for yourselves the last sad offices of man's humility, you pinned to your breasts your simple names, with hand as resolute as if you were writing them on the proudest scroll of fame; not so when, having done all, meek in triumph, you furled the banners crimsoned with your blood, henceforth to be enshrined as emblems of a Nation's glory.

But I venture not here to recount your history. Vividly as your presence summons it before me, the undertaking were too great. Fraught as this hour is with memories, not of facts and scenes merely, but of motives and plans, brilliant conceptions and bold essays, freaks of folly, fortune, or fate, the hour is not yet, nor even near, when the history of this Army can be adequately or impartially told. Were it possible for us, who participated, to set forth with due completeness and due candor all the elements which entered into our stirring and eventful history, that history was too eventful, and the times too recent, for the whole truth to be told without giving rise to bitter feelings and serious disturbance of the lights and shadows under which at present the picture of our Country's great deliverance lies. It were not difficult, were one so bold, to take up a line of remark that would marvellously unveil the mysteries, and dispel a great portion of the charges of fault and failure with which, as yet, in the esteem of many, our Army stands accused. Remembering, however, that it is our great duty now to strengthen the bonds of peace, and nurture the growing amenities of a common citizenship, it is most prudent to refrain from entering into these details.

Thoughts and feelings like these, crowding upon each other, embarrass one who, at such a time as this, speaking to and for men who have made immortal history, aspires to a worthy vindication of their merits, and yet upon whom it is incumbent, at this festive and fraternal reunion, not to stir any chord which could mar the harmony of this occasion, or set in motion jarring elements elsewhere. It would be an affectation of meekness, however, to which I have no ambition to lay claim, if for any reason, here or elsewhere, I should fail, knowing the solid ground on which we stand, to declare with due confidence what was the character and service of that Army on which so often, in the midst of disheartening struggles and bloody agonies, the destiny of this Nation hung.

The hour which you so generously accord me shall not be given to idle boasts nor invidious comparison. The line of my thought is rather defensive than aggressive, and my intent not so much encomium as exculpation. Something which I have to say will doubtless be true of other armies of the Union, and in some degree, perhaps, of all, both North and South. But my theme is still the Army of the Potomac, and my friends from other armies must pardon me if I seem partial, and those who cannot share these recollections must not greatly blame me if my words are warm. What I shall feel constrained to claim, even in this negative way, I am well aware will not by every one be readily admitted. For men are so constituted that what they but imperfectly understand they still make up their most violent judgment upon, and works in which they had no hand seem easily achieved and of little worth; and it is not impossible -such is the "rarity of human charity under the sun". -that envy and enmity even should be the tribute paid to superiority of merit which cannot be denied.

It is charged upon us that our campaigns were feeble, our battles indecisive, and even our victories barren. Whatever of truth there may be in this does not lie against the valor of the Army, but rather in the great plan of operations itself. The enemy were in their own country,—and that singularly advantageous for defence, — and they were moreover on the interior lines. Our line of operation against Richmond lay directly across the course of the many formidable rivers and wild torrents that flow from the mountains to the sea; and these, with the banks and parallel ridges rising terrace above terrace square across our advance, made, in fact, of the whole region for a distance of more than one hundred miles a constant series of natural fortifications, parapet and ditch,—and that on a colossal scale. Then there were the dense forests, with clearings here and there, just wide enough for good rifle range, greatly facilitating the

defence; often so thick and tangled that a great battle had to be fought out of sight of its commander, by divisions and brigades uncertain of each other's fortune, and all, as it were, in the dark. In a country like that, thinly settled, and with few and bad roads, it is not easy to obtain or transport supplies, on which to so great a degree the successful movements of an army depend. Taking all these things together, every one will see that the party of the offensive must encounter other evils than those that can be overcome by the direct force of arms, and that in our rough and rugged campaigns we could neither apply the maxims nor imitate the example of the great European masters of the art of war.

The chief fault found with us was, I believe, that we did not "move." Now, besides what I have already suggested, there are several reasons why it was not so very easy for us to do so, why "moving" did not constitute for us the perfection of strategy and the chief end of soldiership. The fact is, as our adversaries carried their defensive into the offensive, we were constantly forced to conduct our offensive with reference to the defensive. We were to cover the Capital; and the peculiar thing about it was that this Capital was practically in the enemy's territory, certainly on the very southern verge of loyalty. Indeed, we had to keep no small force within it, and far to the rear of it; not solely for defence and for guarding the approaches, but to restrain the inhabitants in one place or another from giving aid and comfort to the enemy. Nor did even this prevent the Capital from being more than once cut off from the loyal States by the destruction of its roads and bridges northward, and by the battery blockade of the South Potomac, not to speak of the actual attack on our troops first marching to its defence through a city which afterwards so gloriously atoned for the shame.

Who does not remember the frenzy of solicitude - ludicrous to think of now with which, at the early discussions of a move, the denizens of the Capital flew to remonstrances and prayers, lest thereby we should cease to cover Washington, and the ruthless Rebels should run riot among their precious things, and make whistles of their bones! And the only way to cover it seemed, in the eyes of those strategists, for us to be drawn up in front of it, and at all hazards kept well in sight between it and the enemy. Everybody knows that at the very climax of a critical campaign, whole corps, whose co-operation was relied upon for success, were suddenly and without the previous knowledge of the commanding general, withdrawn, to dispel some phantom that threatened Washington through the gaps of the Blue Ridge; and nothing was left for us, when our advancing guns had already sounded the knell of Richmond, but a change of base, which, although by a series of well-fought fields, became a by-word and a reproach. And, indeed, after any great battle no victory could be pushed up, for fear that somehow Stonewall Jackson or Stuart would get round our flanks and strike upon the Capital. I do not complain of the precaution; for in the great game we were playing we could not afford to "exchange queens." But I refer to this to remind the critics that our friends behind us had quite as much to do in determining our campaigns as did the enemy before us. It may have been highly complimentary to be chosen to stand between the enemy's mightiest onset and the nation's Capital; but this proximity was by no means calculated to add to our ease or eclat. Especially was this the case when, for a long time, no one master mind shaped and controlled our campaigns; but plans were discussed till they were well known to the enemy, and the chosen one was then entered on with that half assent which begets half intent. Then followed all the evils of lack of unity, vigorous will, and concentrated endeavor on the part of the government. It is the duty of a commander, doubtless, to overcome these evils, or win in spite of them; but how great a task is this, generals of no less stamp than Wellington, Eugene, and Marlborough knew. Let those who are prone to think that our proximity to Washington gave us an undue share of the public attention, and that the defenders of the Capital were the pets and idols of the same, be comforted by the reflection that to no army were favors more sparingly granted, and none was held more strictly to the letter of the Regulations, and to the bar of public criticism.

Another thing which lay against our much moving was the fact that we had to fight when we moved, which is not always the case with armies. Moving is a pleasant thing when you are not crowded with it; but it was quite a different business to move when

every foot of our advance was measured with our dead. Even the Lieutenant-General, the indomitable Grant, found it not quite so easy to keep up the prestige of his western victories, when he came to confront Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia. Was it because the Army of the Potomac would not move? He will not say so. Sheridan, the irresistible, will not tell you that, when he remembers the Valley, Five Forks, and Appomattox. Yes, the Army of the Potomac did not move at Malvern Hill, Antietam, and Gettysburg, except in ambulances and on stretchers.

Move? Let the entrenchments that reach continuous from Pennsylvania to Carolina tell! Let the graves answer, that bridge with glory that gulf of gloom!

I have spoken of some of the failings and shortcomings with which our Army has been charged. Let us now turn briefly to consider it more nearly; to discover what, if anything, distinguished it as an Army, and gave it a character peculiarly its own. Organized from the debris of defeat, and in presence of a defiant enemy, the Army of the Potomac acquired an earnestness of soldiership, a habitude, discipline, and confidence, which made it an army of veterans before it had struck a blow, and gave it a unity and identity, a tenacity of life and constancy of fraternal regard, which all its strange experiences, its great vicissitudes of ill and good, have never for a moment shaken. For this spirit of organization, this esprit de corps, to which it largely owes its prestige, and we the proud companionship of this day, it is just and right that I should ascribe the praise to that commander who was set to work the miracle- -out of that chaos of defeat and distrust to evoke order, and beauty, and power. It may be fairly presumed that the material was equally good of all our armies. Other men, doubtless, were as strong and true, as manly, and as brave. But the very rigors of our experience wrought our Army into a peculiar character. Early it learned to "endure hardness as good soldiers." It found that tribulation that worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope; and the hope, thank God, "made not ashamed."

It is discipline which is the soul of armies, as, indeed, it is the source of power in all intelligent action. Other things — moral considerations, impulses of sentiment, and even natural excitement may lead men to great deeds; but taken in the long run, and in all vicissitudes, an army is effective in proportion to its discipline. Now, it was precisely in this that our Army excelled. Friend and foe alike testify to that. Once grant the superiority of our discipline, and there remains no further question of rank and merit as an army. That was a great lesson, for which to-day we have reason to thank our commanders; for it enters into our individual manhood, and may recombine into other forms to do other works no less for the good of man.

There was also in our Army a high degree of intelligence and independence of judgment. They knew what they were fighting for, those men, and were stern and impartial judges as to what was required of them; obedient to their commanders, whether through affection, respect, or discipline; ready to greet to-night, with all the old loyalty, McClellan, the magic name, Burnside, the magnanimous, Hooker, the chivalrous, Meade, the victorious. Nor do they forget to-night those officers, once the favorites of fortune, whom misunderstanding, impatience, or jealousy has stricken from our rolls. Pardon me, comrades, if I venture here to express the hope, knowing all the pains and penalties of so doing, that tardy justice (if that can be called justice which is tardy) may be done to officers whose character and services in behalf of the Republic deserve something better than its hasty rebuke.

Then, too, observe that the Confederacy saw fit to oppose to us the flower of its armies and its best generals; an army reared in the same field, growing up with us, taught by the same experience, trained by the same discipline, matched and balanced against us in weight, and measure, and movement. That Army of Northern Virginia — who can help looking back upon them now with feelings half fraternal? Ragged and reckless, yet careful to keep their bayonets bright, and lines of battle well dressed; reduced to dire extremities sometimes, yet always ready for a fight; rough and rude, yet knowing well how to make a field illustrious. Who can forget them the brave, bronzed faces that looked at us four years across the flaming pit-men with whom, in a hundred fierce grapples, we fought with remorseless desperation and all the terrible enginery

of death, till on the one side and on the other a quarter of a million fell; and yet we never hated them, except that they struck at the old flag. Main force against main force - there was good reason why, when valor like that was exhausted, the sun should go down on thousands dead, but not one vanquished.

Think now of that career, unparalleled in experience and vicissitude, the campaigns bloody, protracted, and indecisive; itself wasted by disease and wounds and death; with unswerving loyalty and unconquerable devotion, passed down as an inheritance to those who successively filled up its ranks; and it, alone, of all, keeping up heart and hope, when, from its very depletions and disasters, men's hearts everywhere were failing them for fear, and through all the buffetings of fortune holding steadily on its way and fighting it out to the end. Nowhere derelict; whether well or ill directed it did its best; and the victories it won were results not so much of strategy and of grand tactics, but the prize of its own unconquerable heroism, and the price of its most precious blood. Glorious manhood, alike in triumph and disaster; worthy always to be crowned, where not with the victor's, then with the martyr's palm.

Deeds like these cannot perish from the earth; they live in spirit and speak to the hearts of after-peoples and after-ages - noble example of what man will do for man. Yes, this youthful valor of the Army of the Potomac shall become part and parcel of the nation's character, no less than proudest blazonry on the escutcheon of her fame.

God be praised that in the justice of his ways, this same much-suffering old Army, scoffed at for not moving- but never, that I have heard, for not dying- enough, should be the chosen one to push the Rebellion to its last field, and to see its proudest ensigns laid at its feet. When that army surrendered before us, the whole structure of the Confederacy went down with their banners. Not without aid, indeed, did we achieve this; for we were so shattered and depleted by the unparalleled casualties of the great campaign, that, in the last struggle around Petersburg and Richmond, other armies stood shoulder to shoulder with us, with whom we gladly and gratefully share the glory.

Wonderful old Army! whose casualties were such that decimation were five times too tame a word to tell its losses, and whose deeds were such that its victories should have counted even with its fields. So often after a three days' battle held back from following up the victory it had won, because it was the Army of the Potomac, and must not uncover Washington; so often, for this same sake, forced to run a neckand-neck race with the Rebels-ludicrous, perhaps, to the distant critic, but agonizing to the actors in it along the bases of the Blue Ridge, or across the plains of Manassas; so many times withdrawn by night from a front they had fought all day to win, holding the bitterness of their hearts unuttered as they trod reverently in the darkness among the pale upturned faces of their dead that had died in vain; so many times crossing rivers in face and spite of the foe- a thing thitherto rare in warfare-and having made the heights beyond immortal with their blood, hastily recrossing, for no failure or fault of theirs, yet bearing the blame and the shame. An army sometimes changing its base, and often its commanders, but never its loyalty, its high resolve, its generous devotion! And in triumph, too, obedient still, which is more difficult; masters of their enemies, masters of themselves, which is more noble. No sacked city cries out against them from its ashes; no violated innocence, no desecrated sanctity, no outraged defencelessness, no needless seizure, nor wanton waste accuses their honor; but they bore themselves always as those that had mothers and sisters at home, and reverenced God; men whose chivalry scorned to do dishonor, no less than to suffer it. And when its work was done, it mustered once more on the banks of the Potomac, not as Cæsar with his victorious legions paused on the brink of the Rubicon to brace his resolution to seize the liberties of his country, but to return to a delivered nation her standards, dimmed and torn, but bright and broad in newness and wholeness of meaning to lay down their arms at the feet of the constitutional authority, with as much respect, as much sincerity, as much humility as they had seen in the hostile host that laid at their feet the arms and colors of its cause.

Self-denying old Army! Schooled in the passive virtues no less than in the active, disciplined in patience, fortitude, self-control- the highest lesson of this life