Evening Star Newspaper, August 3, 1895, Page 13

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 8, 1895-TWENTY PAGES. 2 (Copsright, 1895, by Irving Bacheller.) CHAPTER L The Tragedy. (From notes written by Miss Sarah Falr- banks immediately after the report of the grand jury.) As I take my pen to write this I have a feeling that I am on the witness stund— for or against myself, which? The place of the criminal in the dock I will not vol- untarily take. I will affirm neither my in- necence nor deny my guilt. I will present the facts of the case as impartially and as coolly as if I had nothing at stake. I will let all who may read this judge me as they will. This I am bound to do, since I am con- demned to something infinitely worse than the life cell or the gallows. I will try my cwn self in liew of judge and jury; my guilt or my innocerce I will prove to you all, if it be in mortal power. In my de- spair I am tempted to say I care not which it may be, so something be proved. Open condemnation could not overwhelm me like universal suspicion. Now, first, as I have heard is the cus- tom in courts of law, I will present the case. I am Sarah Fairbanks, a country school teacher, twenty-nine years of age. My mother ‘lied when I was twenty-three. Since then, while I have been away teach- ing at Digby, a cousin of my father’s, Ru- fus Bennett, and his wife have lived with my father. During the long summer vaca- tions they returned to their little farm in “Vermont, and I kept house for my father. For five years I have been engaged to be married to Henry Ellis, a young man whom I met in Digby. My father was very much oppcsed to the match, and has told me repeatedly that if I Insisted upon marrying him in his lifetime he would dis- inherit me. On this account Henry has never visited me at my own home. While I could not bring myself to break off final- ly my engagement, I wished to avoid an open rupture with my father. He was quite an old man, and I was the only one he had left of a large family. I believe that parents should honor their children, as well as children their parents, but I had arrived at this conclusion: In mine-tenths of the cases wherein children marry agzirst their parents’ wishes, even when the parents Fave no just grounds for opposition. the marriages are unhappy. I sometimes felt that I was unjust to Henry, and resolved that if ever I sus- pected that his fancy turned toward any other girl I would nct hinder it, especially as I was getting older, and, I thought, los- ing my good lecks. A little while ago a young and pretty girl came to Digby to teach the school in Miss Mary E. Wilkins. the south district. She boarded in tho same house with Henry, I heard that he was somewhat attentive to her, and I made up my mind I would not interfere. At the same time it seemed to me my heart was breaking. I heard her people had money, too, and she was an only child. I had always felt that Henry ought to marry a wife with.money, because he had nothing himself and was not very strong. School closed five weeks ago, and I same home for the summer vacation. The night before I left, Henry came to see me, and urged me to marry him. I refused 3 but I never befcre had felt that my father was so hard and cruel as I did that night. Henry said that he should certainly see me during the vacation, and when I replied that he must not come he was angry, and said—but such foolish things are not worth repeating. Henry has really a very sweet temper, and would not hurt a fly. The very night of my return home Rufus Bennett and my father had words about some maple sugar which Rufus made cn his Vermont farm and sold to ty father, who made a good trade for it to some poo- ple in Boston. That was father’s business. le had once kept a store, but had given it up, and sold a few articles that he could make a large profit on here and there at wholesale. He used to send to New Hramp- shire and Vermont for butter, eggs and cheese. Cousin Rufus thought father did not allow him enough of his profit on the maple sugar, and in the dispute father lost his temper and said that Rufus had given him underweight. At that Rufus swore an oath and seized father by the throat. Ru- fus’ wife screamed, “Oh, don’t! don’t! Oh, he'll kill him!” I went up to Rufus and took hold of his “Rufus Bennett,” said I, “you let my father go!” But Rufus’ eyes glared like a madman’s and he would not let go. Then I went to the desk drawer, where father had kept a pistol since some houses in the village “You let go my father.” were broken into; I got out the pistol, laid hold of Rufus again, and held the muzzle against his forehead. “You let go my father,” said I, “or I'll fire! Then Rufus let go, and father dropped like a log. He was purple in the face. Rufus’ wife and I worked a long time over him to bring him to. “Rufus Bennett,” said I, “go to the well and get a pitcher of water.” He went, but when father had revived and got up Rufus ve him a look that showed he was not wer his rage. “T'll get even with you ye’ Martin Fair- banks, old man as you ar he shouted out, and went into the outer room. We got father to bed scon. He slept in the bed room downstairs, out of the sitting room. Rufus and his wife had the north chamber, and I had the south one. I left my dcor open that night, and did not sleep any. I listened; no one stirred in the night. Rufus and his wife were up very early in the morning, and before 9 o'clock left for Vermont. They had a cay’s journey, and would reach home about 9 in the evening. Rufus’ wife bade father good-bye, crying, while Rufus was getting their trunks down Stairs, but Rufus did not go near father nor me. He ate no breakfast; his very back IcoKked ugly when he went out of the yard. That very day, about 7 o'clock in the evening, after tea, I had just washed the dishes and put them away and went out “Father!” I Called Out, “Fathe cn the north doorstep, where father was sitting, and sat down on the lowest step. There was a cool breeze there; it had been a very hot dey. “I want to know if that Ellis fellow has been to see you any lately,” said father all at once. Noz a great deal,” I answered. d he come to see you the last night you were there?” said father. “Yes, sir,” said I, “he did come.” “If you ever have another word to say to that fellow while I lve I'll kick you cut of this house like a dog. daughter of mine though you be!” said he. Then he swore a great oath, and called God to wit- ness. “Speak to that fellow again, if you dare, while I live,” said he. I did not say a word; I just looked up at him as I sat there. Father turned pale, and shrark back, and put his hand to his threat, where Rufus had clutched him. Tkere were some purple finger-prints there. “I suppose you would have been glad if he’d killed me,” father cr'ed cut. I saved your life,” “What did you do wit asked. “T put it back In the d I got up and went around and sat on the west doorstep, which is the front one. As I sat there the bell rang for the Tuesday evening meeting. and Phoebe Dole and Maria Woods, two old maiden ladies, dress- taakers, our next dcor ne‘ghbors, went past cn their way to meeting. Phoebe stopped and asked if Rufus is wife had gone. Maria went around the house. Very soon they went on, and several other people passed. When they had all gone it was as still as death. I sat alone a long time, until I could see by the shadows that the full moon had risen. Then I went up to my room and went to bed. I lay awake a long t'!me crying. It seemed to me that ail hope of marriage between Henry and me was over. I could not expect him to wait for me. I thought of that other girl; I could see her pretty face wherever i looked. But at last I cried myself to sleep. t about 5 o'clock I woke and got up. Father always wanted his breakfast at 6 o'clock, and I had to prepare it now. When father and I were alone he always built the fire In the Kitchen stove. But that morning I did not hear him stirring as usual, and I fancied that he must be so out of temper with me that he would not build the fire. I went to my closet for a dark blue calico dress, which I wore to do housework in. It had hung there during all the school term. As I took it off the hook my atten- tion was caught by something strange about the dress I had worn the night be- fore. This dress Was made of thin summer silk; it was green in color, sprinkled over with white rings. It had been my best dress for two summers, but now I was wearing it on hot afternoons at home, for it is the ccolest dress I have. The night before, too, I had thought of the possibility of Henry's driving over from Digby and passing the house. He had done this some- times during the last summer vacation, and I wished to look my best if he did. As I took down the calico dress I saw what szemed to be a stain on the green silk. I threw on the calico hastily and then took the green and carried It over to the* window. It was covered with spots— horrible, great splashe® and streaks down 'd I. that pistol?” he sk drawer.” the front. The right sleeve, too, was stained, and all the stains were wet. “What have I got on my dress?” said I. It looked like blood. Then I smelled of it, and it was sickening in my nostrils, but I was not sure w) the smell of blood was like. I thought I must have got the stains by some accident the night before. “If that is biood on my dress,” I sald, “I must do something to get it off at once, or the dress be ruined.” It came to my mind that I had been told that blood stains hade been removed from cloth by an application of flour paste on the wrong side. I took my green silk and ran down the back stairs, which led, having a doer at the foot, directly into the kitchen. There was no fire in the kitchen stove, as I had thought. Everythirg was very soll- tary and still, except for the ticking of the clock on the shelf. When I crossed the kitchen to the pantry, however, the cat mewed to be let in from the shed. She had a little door of her own by which she could enter or leave the shed at will—an aperture just large enough for her maltese body to pass at ease beside the shed door. It had a little lid, too, hung upon a leather hinge. On my way I let in the cat; then I went to the pantry and got a bowl of flour. This I mixed with water into a stiff paste and ap- plied to the under surface of the stains on my dress. I then hung the dress up to dry in the dark end of a closet leading out of the kitchen, which contained some old clothes of father's. Then I made up the fire in the kitchen stove; I made coffee, baked biscuits and poached some eggs for breakfast. Then I opened the door into the sitting room and called, “Father, breakfast is ready.” Suddenly I started. There was a red stain on the Inside of the sitting room door. My heart began to beat in my ears. “Father!” I called out; “father!” There w no answer. “Father!” I again called. as loud as I could scream. “Why don't you speak? What is the matter?” The door of his bed room stood open. I had a feeling that I saw a red reflection in there. I gathered myself together and went across the sitting room to father’s bed room door. His little looking glass hung over his bureau directly opposite his bed, which was reflected in it. That was the first thing I saw when I reached the door. I could see father in the looking glass and the. bed. Father was dead there; he had been murdered in the night, (To be continued.) ——_—_+e+ A Point of View. From Tid-Bits. Young lay (out yachting)— matter, Capt. Quarterdeck?” Captai. ‘The fact is, my dear young lady, we've broken our rudder.” Young lady—‘I wouldn't worry sbout that. The rudder is mostly under water, you know, and it isn’t likely people will no- tice it.” ‘What is the THIS CITY IN PERIL Secretary Stanton’s Confidential Clerk Relates Some History. TINCOLN'S ESTIMATE OF MCLELLAN The War Secretary and the Army of the Potomac. DIVERGENT VIEWS Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. LIBERTY, WHAT ; crimes are not com- g mitted in thy name!” was the lamentation uttered by Madam Roland, in the midst of the slaughter of human life in the French revolution. As I look down the vista of thirty years and see the rage of madness of the com- mander of the Army of the Potomae and his staff against the ruler of the War De- partment, and still hear the denunciation of that ruler rolling up from the James 2s that army encounters defeat before Rich- mend, I feel like paraphrasing Madam Roland's lamentation and exclaiming: Oh, truth, what falsehoods has not malice per- petrated, and perpetrated’ in thy name, against that ruler. My exclamation is directed to a story re- cently published in The Star as a part of the address by a distinguished major gen- eral of the United States army on the oc- casion of the May reunion of the Society of the Army of the Potomac at New Lon- don. The story is directed against the great War S€cretary, Stanton, as showing his interference with the commanders in the field, and especially with the plans of Gen. McCleilan in his peninsula campaign. That campaign required the division of the army then at Manassas and the moving of the greater part down the Potomac to Yorktown. This plan both the President and his ar Secretary disapproved, but consented to under certzin conditions, which made Mr. Stanton the guardian of the capital. In the exercise of this duty he marked the line of the division of that army and closed the gates of the city at the safety line. For this Gen. McClellan and his partisans denounced and have been denouncing him for all the disasters that overtook the Army of the Potomac in tHat campaign. DBenicd by Gen. Grant. The story had its origin at the time Gen. Grant was about to move aguinst Lee, south of the Potomac, 2nd is thus stated: Gen. Grant having ordered certain troops at the cxpital to join the army at the front, the Secretary sent for him and told him he could not do it because it would leave Washingten uncovered, to whi G replied. “I have gone it, M whereupon Mr. Stanton ¢ “I protest; I will appeal to the Pr Gen." Grant bowed his acquiescen together they went over to the Hous On entering the President's Stanton turned to Gen. Grant and said: “Now, general, state your case.” “I have no case to state,” Gen. Grant stolidly re- plied. Stanton at once poured ont an in- dignant protest against Grant’s depleting Washington of troops, and throwing open the capital to the inroads of the enemy. The President, placing his hand on the shoulder of the great War Secretary, said: “Well, Stanton, Congress has give! ancing at Grant) to take char military matters, and I reckon had better let him have his own w: After that Grant had his own way, much to the benefit uf the armies in the fic This story I now prenot et The scene it describes rever took place. The words attributed to Mr. Stanton as ing been spoken to Gen. Grant in the War Department are unlike him in every sense. But Gen. Grant himself has settled the truth of this story. Referring to Mr. Stanton, at the close of the war, he said: There never had been any misunder- standing between them in regard to the conduct of the war, and that he never had son to suppose that any fault was foind with anything he had dens. That so far as the Secretary of War and himself were concerned, the Secretary had never interfered with his duties in the field. He had never dictated a course of campaign to him, and never inquired what he was going to do in the movement of his army; and that Mr. Stanton always seemed satis fied with what he did ind heartily co-oper- ated with him.” So far, then, as the story is connected with Gen. Grant, it certainly is a fabrication. Peril of This City. All the commanders of the Army of the Potomac had in thelr care the safety of the capital, and in view of the brave and active character of the enemy, it was im- possible for the President and his whole cabinet to have other than grave appre- hensions lest the capital be left open for the enemy. Three times Washington was in danger of capture from the division and _ move- ments of the army under Gen. McClellan, and once its capture was imminent under Gen. Grant, and of which I shall tell in a future chapter. The President and his cabinet did find it necessary to constantly watch Gen. Mc- Clean, and to interfere for the safety of Washington. In this particular he was an exception of all the commanders of that army, and it was his own conduct and that of his partisans that made him the exception, for everywhere his partisans were declaring the war was a failure on the part of the government and wanted it closed. Everywhere they were looking for Lee's triumphal march into Washington. Under Gen, McClellan the danger to the capital commenced from the moment he changed his base of operations from Ma- nassas to Yorktown. Seeing the inevit- able consequences from this change, the President sanctioned it only on condition that the defenses of Washington be made safe. The Secretary, by his direction, is- sued an order that, In moving the army, a force should be left which, in the opinion of Gen. McClellan and the commanders of all the army corps, would leave Washing- ton entirely secure. Mr. Stanton had mis- givings that McClcilaa would take all the troops awdy and leave Washington in a condition to invite the enemy, and in this his fears were well founded. Charge Against Gen. McClellan. Gen. Wadsworth was put in charge of the defenses, and upon request from Mr. Stanton to advise him if he felt secure in such defense, and !f the President's orders had been carried out, reported that the force left was insufficient for such de- fense. In this report he says: “I deem it my duty to state that, looking at the numerical strength and character of the force under my comman4, it is in my judg- ment entirely inadequate to and unfit for the important duty to which it wag as- signed. I regard it very improbable that the enemy will assail us at this point, but this belief is based upon the hope ‘that they may be promptly engaged elsewhere and may not learn the number and the character of the force left here.” It was more than a month before the enemy were engaged elsewhere. This report was a very serlous charge agairst Gen. McClellan, and Mr. Stanton, realizing its gravity and not willing to act upon such charge, at once appofhted a commission to inquire into and report whether the orders of the President had been complied with. This commission re- ported: “If there was need of a millitary force for the safety of Washington within its own limits, that referred to in the re- port of Gen. Wadsworth would seem to be entirely inadequate."” From that moment Mr. Stanton’s confi- dence in McClellan, as to the safety of the capital, was under a constraint strain of doubt. The President, being advised of this report, directed that the corps of General McDowell be retained at Manassas. Gen- eral McClellan and his staff of letter writ- ers at once set up a great howl of abuse egainst Mr. Stanton, and charged that by withholding McDowell’s corps he had de- feated the plans of the peninsula cam- and White room Mr. Tai paign, imperiled his &rmy and prevented the capture’ of Richmond. Of the report of this‘dommission General McClellan said it was: not true, and was made in complete ‘fgmorance or willful malevolencé, and thatl'the Secretary was inimical to him, and ee not desire his suc- cess. > The Opinion of Lincoln. While the President::and Mr. Stanton constantly had before them the safety of Washington and the ger of its capture, McClellan was as consfantly showing his disgust for such stategmanship, and said that the force under!McDowell would do mere for the protectidn of Washington, if sent to him by water}.than in any other Position in which it co) tq be placed. While McClellan was thus ] ing his demand for McDowell, Jackson, that lion in battle, Swept down the Shenandoah valley from Lee like a cyclone, spreading consterna- tion in Washington and confirming the wisdom of retaining McDowell. In a tele- gram to McClellan the President said: “If McDowell's force was. now out of our reach we should be utterly helpless. Ap- prehensions like this and no unwillingness to sustain you, has always been my reason ior , Withholding McDowell’s force from General McClellan having told the Pres!- dent that Jackson had come back, and was against him at the desperately fought bat- tle of Gaine’s Mill, the President tells hi If you have had a drawn battle or a r pulse, it is the price we pay for the enemy not being in Washington. We protected Washington, and the enemy concentrated on you. Had we stripped Washington he would have been upon us before the troops could have got to you.”* After McClellan’s defeat he still called not only for McDowell, but for Pope’s entire army, and said he did not believe the enemy would trouble Washington so long as he had a powerful army in the vicinity of Richmond; that he did not share the apprehensions for the safety of Washington that were entertained by a great many. This was indicated in his . Whole conduct. If there was any one thing that was plainly scen in advance if was that the taking of the army to the penin- sula by water, instead of from Manassas, where it was, was certain to invite, nay, to compel interference from Washington. That was inevitable.and as far as I then knew and now know such interference was ie and best for the safety of Washing- ‘on. When McCleHan Was Anxious. There was only one occasion when Gen. McClellan expressed solicitude for the safety of Washington, and that was while Pope was furiously fighting for its safety, and McClellan was at Alexandria doing nothing. It was on this occasion that he told his wife that he did not regard Wash- ington as safe against the rebels ‘and that everything was uncertain and unsafe around Washington. To her he said that the detaching of McDowell’s corps from his command was the most infamous thing that history has recorded, because he was then actually under fire at Yorktown. But history telis that his army—nearly one hundred thousand strong, was under the fire of about seven thousand of the enemy. Of this infamous thing he told his wife that he had raised an awful row at Wash- ington. In his demand for McDowell, he said that there would be troops enough left to hold the works against any force the enemy could have brought and the more they sent the casier would be his work in front of Richmond. After yecelving the Presi- dent's telegram about being helpless with- out McDowell, he wrote his wife that the President was tern ington, him y stdred about Wash- and he hope’ Réaven would save om such courselsiand from Wash- ; that the scare/would do them good = them to their senses. he cabinet as a crew s, Shington as the sink y and the President as a wretch. He, who was a wonder in wisdom and sound judgment. He,-who was a mystery in goodness and in forbgarance. He, who had magnified his otice more than any of his predecessors and in my intelligence and judgment, more than all his success- ors. He, who was without envy, which Plato, in his philosephy, on the immor- tality of the soul said: “Forms no part in the divine chotr.” MeClelan’s Magnifying Glasses. Gen. McClellan was never known to cive a correct estimate of Lee's army. His secret service must have been supremely incompetent ind worthiess, for he advised Mr. Stanton that the enemy was always and everywhere greater and sometimes double in number his own army. In the light of history these conditions ever ex- isted and there never was a time when the Army of the Potomac under McClellan did not largely exceed that of Lee. Gen. Grant not only always knew where to find the enemy and what his force was, but he knew what Ggn. Lee had for his dinner, when he wanted to know—if he had any- thing at all to eat. After the defeat of the army on the by the friends of McClellan against Stanton, as having been the cause of his defeat and of bringing on the then impending pet Washington, Havirg full knoy Bs this the President, in a speech, at a war meeting in Washington, three days after the order was given to bring that army here, said I am very little inclined on any occasion to say anything unless I hope to produce some good by it. The only thing I think of just now not likely to be better said by some one else is a matter in which we have heard some other per- sons blamed for what I did myself. There has been a very widespread attempt to have some quarrel between Gen. McClel- lan and the Secretary of Wa-. “Now, I occupy a position that enables -me to observe that these two gentlemen are not nearly so deep in the quarrel as some pretending to be their friends. (en. McClellan's attitude is such that, in the very selfishness of his nature, he cannot but wish to be successful, and I hope he will—and the Secretary of War is in pre- cisely the same situation. If the military commanders in the field cannot be suc- cessful, not only the Secretary of War, but myself, for the time being the master of both, cannot but be failures. Lincoln’s Terse Statement. “I know Gen. McClellan wishes to be successful, and I know he does not wish it any more than the Secretary of War and both of them together nc more than I wish it. Sometimes we have a dispute about how many men Gen. McClellan has had, and those who would disparage him say that he has had a very large number, and thcse who would disparege the Secretary of War insist that Gen. McClellan has had a very small number. The basis for this is there is always a wide differenc3, and on this occasion, perhaps a wider one than usual, between the grand total on McClel- lan’s rolls and the men actually fit for @uty, and those who would dispurage him talk of the grand total on paper, and those who would disparage the Secretary of War talk of those present fit for duty. Gen. McClellan has sometimes asked for things that the Secretary of War did not give him. Gen. McClellan is not to blame for asking what he wanted and needed and the Secretary of War: is not to blame for not giving when he had nane to give. “And I say here, as far as I know, the Secretary of War has withheld no one thing at any time in my power to give him. I have no accysation against him. I believe -he is a brave and able man, and I stand here, as justige requires me to do, to take upon myself what has been charg- ed on the Secretary of War, as withhold- ing from him.” i A Surprising Statement. After Pope’s defeat McClellan was put in command and met Lee in Maryland. Before giving him battleiat the Antietam McClellan again restimed' his demand for troops which were retaindd for the defense of Washington, and_to Gen. Halleck ke makes this very extraordinary statement, referring to the battle of the Antietam, then imminent: “If we should be defeated the consequences to the country would be disastrous in the extreme. Under these circumstances I would recommend that cne or two of the three army corps now on the Potomac for the defense of Washington be at once withdrawn and sent to reinforce this army. But even if Washington should be taken while these armies are confront- ing each other this would not, in my judg- ment, bear comparison with the ruin and disasters which would follow a single de- feat of this army. If we should be success- ful in conquering the gigantic rebel army before us we would have no difficulty in recovering it.” Gen. Halleck, although, like McClellan, a soldier, saw in this a fearful want of statecraft, wrote him and sald: “You attach too little importance to the capital. I assure you that you are wrong. The capture of this place would throw us back six months, if it should not destroy us.” It has always been a wonder to me why Lee did not capture Washington while peninsula an] before its withdr: McClellan was on the peninsula. Indeed, McClel suggested to the President that Lee ht prefer to take his army to Washington rather than give battle on the James. Looking back at the peninsula campaign, I am constrained to say that it does seem that Gen. McClellan constantly thought and gave more importance to the capture of Richmond than he did to the danger of the capture of Washington by Lee. The capture of Richmond, with Lee still master, would have been nothing, while the capture of Washington would have been the closing scene. In his Mary- land campaign Gen. Halleck found it neces- sary to warn McClellan fifteen times that his movements were such as to endanger Washington. Some of McClellan’s Ideas. After the battle of the Antietam Mc- Clellan announced his purpese to fortify Mafyland Heights; to hold Harper’s Ferry; to watch the enemy closely, and to attack him only if he should again attempt to cross into Maryland. He wanted to build a@ double-track suspension bridge and a permanent wagon bridge across the Po- tomac at Harper's Feiry; and he was going to devote the winter to the reorganization of the army and the instruction of the new troops; and finally he sent to Gen. Halleck his ultimatum: “My own view of the policy to be pursued is to retain in Washington merely the force necessary to garrison it, and to send everything avail- able to reinforce this army. The railroads give us the means of reinforcing Wash- ington, should it be necessary. If I am re- infcrced as I ask, and am allowed to take my own course, I will hold myself respon- sible for the safety of Washington.” This ultimazam stcod for one long month, and all the time the President was beg- ging, praying and ordering him to move against Lee. His army then was very much greater than Lee’s, and infinitely better equipped, better fed and __ better eared for. During Gen. Grant’s continuous battles with Lee the stormy weather and the condition of the roads compelled a cessation of fighting for about a week, and, knowing the hopes the President and Mr. Stanton had in him, and the necessities for earnest fighting, directed Gen. Halleck to tell them that the elements only had stop- ped his movements against Lee. Mr. Stan- ton commented upon this, and said it was the only way Lee could be beaten. But Gen. McClellan was not allowed to be responsible for the safety of Washing- ton. That was a restriction put upon him when he started out to meet Lee. The troops that were designated for the de- fense of Washirgton were taken from his control to prevent a repetition of the penin- sula danger. is eee If This City Had Been Taken. When he said he would have no difficulty in recovering Washington should it be cap- tured, did he mean what would only have been left of it? for I cannct conceive of such capture without destruction. The capture of Washington would have meant the recognition of the southern confed- eracy by England, France and Spain, and this would have resulted in hostile inter- venticn by these nations against the fed- eral government. It would have meant the destruction of the President's house -and the great plant by which the money to carry on the war was produced. A single torch would have destroyed the War and Navy departmenis, the residences of all the cabinet members, the navy yard and the arsenal. The treasury vaults and the banks would have been looted, the peo- ple in panic and in flight, the plundering of the Louses, and the city on fire in every direction. This would have been the capi- tal that he would have recaptured. To have blown up the Capitol the «nemy would have used a million tons of powder, if they could have gotten it. Its great double dome, then going up, would have gone down. In my judgment, the capture of Washing- ton would have closed the war. England, France and Spain woyld have rushed on to Richmond with aid and recognition. In this a powerful element at the north and in Washington would have been glad, and Washington, the city of magnificent dis- tances, would have been blotted from ihe map of the world as the capital of the great American nation. That the occasion for the recapture of Washington did not occur. is now scen to have been best for the north and best for the south, best for the people and best for the nation. For this the two :ivil heroes gave their lives. This is the priceless legacy which the dead and the living of the Army of the Potemac finally gave us. I have often heard Mr. Stanton speak of the singular conduct and expressions of Mc- Clellan as to the safety of Washinton, and I have often felt that McClellan seemed to wish to put Washington in a condition that would compel the flight of the whole “crew,” as he called the cabinet and the President. Lincoln's Estimate of McClellan, The President, in justification of his act in placing McClellan in command of the defenses of Washington, after the defeat of Pope, in a stormy cabinet meeting, said (I quote from Wells, Lincoln and Seward): “With a retreating and demoralized army tumbling in upon us, and alarm and panic in the community, it was necessary that something should be done, but there seemed to be no one to do it. He, therefore, had directed McClellan, who knew this whole ground, who was the best organizer in the army, whose faculty was to organize and defend, and who would here act upon the defensive, to take this defeated and shat- tered army and reorganize it. “He knew full well the infirmities of Mc- Clellan, ‘who was not an affirmative man; was worth little for an onward movement; but beyond any other officer he had the confidence of the army, and he could more efficiently reorganize it and put ‘t in con- dition than any other general. If the Sec- retary of War, or any member ofthe cabi- net, would name a general that°could do this as promptly and weil, he would ap- point him. For an active, fighting general, he was sorry to’ say, McClellan was a failure; he had the ‘slows’; was never ready for battle, and probably never would be; but for this exigency, when organiza- tion and defense were needed, he consider- ed him the best man for the service, and the country must have the benefits of his talents, though he had behaved badly. “Whether changing the plan of opera- tion (discarding McClellan and placing Pope in command in front) was wise or not was not now a matter in hand. These things, right or wrong, had been done. If the administration hat erred the coun- try should not have been made to suffer nor our brave men been cut down and butchered. Pope should have been sustain- ed, but he was not. Whatever may have been said to the contrary, it could not be denied that the army was with McClellan. He had so skillfully handled his troops in not getting to Richmond as to retain their confidence. * “It was humiliating, after what had transpired and all we knew, to reward McClellan and those who failed to do their whole duty in the hour of trial, but so it was. Personal considerations must be sac- rificed for the public good. There has been a design, a purpose in breaking down Pope, without regard to the consequences to the country, that is atrocious. It is shocking to see and to know this, but there is no remedy at present.” Excelled in Vanity. As I knew Gen. McClellan and now know him in history, the President's estimate of him as a commander is the best that has ever been given. But I think the President might have added that in vanity he ex- celled the commanders of all the armies. He certainly did give safety to Washing- ton at that time, because I do not think there was then any officer of the army who could have so quickly joined the two de- feated armies in condition to meet Lee. In a letter to me from New York, the writer, who studied law with Mr. Stanton and was an officer in the Army of the Po- tomac, referring to Secretary Stanton, says: “No one, I think, doubted his honesty, good intentions and great ability, but it took the authorities in Washington a long time to discover that the best place to fight campaigns and possibly to plan them was in the field and not in the War De- partment. Mr. Lincoln came at last to that way of thinking, and if he had reach- ed it earlier the war might have reached a more speedy termination.” I think that part of the campaign which was planred in the War Department for the safety of Washington was managed with infinitely more skill and determina- tion than that which characterized its con- duct at Yorktown and on the James, hav- ing in view the same object; and I think the war would have reached a more speedy termination in the triumph of Lee but for the interference of the War Department. An Estimate of Stanton. I have heard Mr. Chase tell Mr. Stanton, that, as McClellan was conducting bis campaigns, the money to carry on the war could not be obtained much longer at the rate of a million dollars a day. I have heard Mr. Stanton often say that McClel- lan was doing little or nothing to hurt the enemy, and that if he had a million men he ace cnt toe gc million before he woul ve le unless the en = balst ee enemy com: When history shall tell of Edwin M. Stan- ton, it will show him to have been the greatest organizer of armies since nations Were upon theearth. It willshow him to have been alive every moment for 8 years against the warfare of the enemies of the republic. It will show him in his sleepless vigilance watching over the sanctuary of our liberties, It will show him to have been like the sentinel upon the walls of Jerusalem calling all along the lines— “Watchman, what of the night?” It will show him in his greatness when at last his hopes for peace and the triumph of our arms were beginning to be realized under Gen. Grant, he said: “Surely God is on our side, for we have done what we could to ruin ourselves, and yet we have fulled to do it.” A. E. H. JOHNSON. gee NEWS OF LINCOLN’S DEATH. How It Was Received by the Advance of Sherman’s Army. San Diego (Cal.) Letter to the Chicago Tribune. Nichols, one of tke chief medical officers of Sherman’s army at the time of the sur- render of Gen. Joe Johaston, lives in this city. In speaking of the correspondence between Gen. W. T. Sherman and Gen. Joe Johnston as to the terms of the latter's surrender, Dr. Nichols tells of a dramatic incident. “I was with Gen. Logan,” he said, “in the advance columns sent out by Sherman. We went into camp chirteen miles from Raleigh. No one knew what would happen next day. That night I sat with Logan and other officers outside of our tents. We smoked and speculated as to what would be done on the following day. Gen. Logan told us that the morrow might bring us plenty of business, as .in case of a fight the brunt of it would fall on his command. We turned in, expecting stirring events the next -lay, but not of the nature which were realized. In the early morning of that day I was sitting outside my tent when a courier rode up. lis horse was nearly spent, so hard had the rider purished the animal. Evidently he borc important dispatches. . “He hurriedly inquired for Gen. Logan. The courier handed him an «nvelope. The general tore it open, read the messaye, and exclaimed: ‘My God!’ He rushed to the tent of his adjutant, who also uttered an exclamation of surprise. As both men emerged from the tent their faces were pallid. ‘What's the matter?’ 1 asked. ‘Lin- ecln is killed,’ was the reply, ‘and don’t you breathe a word of it to any one.” The general feared if the troops learned the news they might be so enraged as to ig- nore discipline and fall on Johnston's troops fearby in revenye. ‘This will make a. difference,’ he said, referring to the tragedy. Very soon word was received from Johnston indicating that he had re- ceived the news of Lincoln's death almost at the same time of its receipt by Sher- man’s officers. Shortly afterward the sur- render to Sherman was completed. It was a critical time for the Union commanders. Had the news of the assassination of Lin- coln leaked out among the troops prema- turely there is no telling what dire rc- sults might have followed. I shall never forget the anxiety of the moment. And it has always been a question to my mind as to how Cen, Johnston got the news of Lincoln’s death almost as early as we did.” ——___+e+_____ The Dry Rot of Royalty. It must be a subject of serious concern to the English people to observe how phy- sically defective and deteriorated is the younger generation of the house which rules over them. Ttis is especially the case with the children of the Prince and Princess of Wales and the Duke and Duch- ess of Edinburgh, all of whom are exceed- ingly delicate. The Duke of York, as is well known, has no stamina whatsoever, and since the at- tack of typhoid fever which overtook him shortly after his brother's death has been so frail as to be a source of concern and anxicty to his parents. His sister, Princess Maud, is afilicted with chronic stomach trouble, which accounts for her deplorable complexion and for her annual visits to Vichy and otner French watering places, none of which has succeeded, however, in effecting any marked amelioration in her condition. , And now there Is Victoria of Wales, the most amiable ang popular of the three daughters of the Prince of Wales, who is in so serious a condition of health as to cavse alarm to her parents. Only the other night, at the grand ball given by the Mar- chioness of Londonderry,the princess faint- ed in the ball room and had to be con- veyed to Marlborough house. The eldesi con of the Duke of Edinburgh, and Coburg, too, is exceedingly delicate, suffering from scme internal injury re- ceived as a boy, and which has perma- nently affected his health to such a degree as to render riding well nigh impossible. The Dughess of Fife, the eldest daughter of the Prince of Wales, has never recov- ered from the effects of her first confine- ment, and is, to a great extent, an invalid, while her children are sickly and delicate. The most prcmising—the only promising— member of the royal family is little Prince Edward, the infant son of the Duke of York, who seems to have inherited the fine constitution and happy humor of his ro- bust mother, Princess May. ———_ +e. A Harmonious Couple. From Judge. Mrs. Perkins (calmly reminiscent)—‘Jon- athan, we've bin married forty years next Tuesday, an’ never had a cross word yit.” Mr. Perkins—“I know it. I’ve stood yer jawin’ purty well Mrs. Perkins—“Jonathan Perkins, you’re a mean, hateful, deceitful old thing, an’ I wouldn’t marry you agin fer love ner morey!” ——_ An Experience With an Inexpensive Garment. From Life. ay RAILROADS. BALTIMORE AND OHIO RAILROAD. Schedule in effect July 12, Leave Washington from stat! corner of New jersey avenue and © street. nd Northwest, Vestibuled Limited 9D. For ‘Ci th, wget, Cincinnatt, “st. ‘or Pit P.1W. dally; sleeping For L » 3:45 p.1 Fa attiaee lerick, 215, °4:30 p.m. For Hagerstown, °11:30 For Boyd and way points, ‘or Gaithersburg aud. wa; 2. 50, *3:00, *4:85, im. bington Junction and ints, 20°: sian yin et me ee eat at principal stations only, 4:30, ° ‘or Ridge, 9:15 a.m. and 4:28 p.m. oi TA. All trains illuminated with Pintsch light. art, eck dave, W488" Dinieg Cane C00" Bt . a Wie 1 Gary, 8:00 (10:00 sim. Dining Cans, Sisan C1236 Car), 8:00 (6:05 Dining Carl, 8:00 p.m. ht Sleeplig Car, open at 10:00 o'clock) 4:55 Dining Car), (7:00 Dining Car), (9:00 am. Dining Car), (12:80 Dining Car), 8:00 (5:08 Dining Car), 8:00 (12:01 night). Sleeping Car opens for passengers 10:00 p.m. For ‘Auantic Gitg.°m 4 and 11:30 a.m, 12: rigger Pm. Cape May, 4:55 a.m. (8:00 a.m. Satu ip), 12:80, Pum Sunday, 4:58 a Bex! ‘Except Sunday. * Daily. ” ress trains. den it cit day trains. xExp! ze called for and checked from hotels and Fegidences by Union ‘Transfer Co. on orders left at ticket offices, 619 Pennsisvania avenue northwe Jew, York’ avenue and Fifteenth street, and CHAS. 0. SCUIL, Gen. Pass. R. B. CAMPBELL, Gen. Manager. 474 PENNSYLVANTA RATLROAD. Station corner of Cth and B streets. In effect June 28, 1896. 2 10:30 A.M. PENNSYLVANIA LIMITED.—Puilman Sleeping, Dining, Smoking and Observation Care Harristarg to Chicago, Cineinnatt, 1nd Bt. Louise Cleveland’ and Toledo.” Butlet Parlot Car to Harrisburg. 10:30 AM. FAST LINE.—Pullman Buffet Parlor Gy fo Harrisvurg. ‘Parlor and Dining Cars, Har fo Pittsbu . CHICAGO-AND ST, LOUIS EXPRESS.— Pallmaa Buffet Parlor Car to Harrisburg. — ing and Dining Oars, Harrisburg to St. Cincinnati, Louisville’ and Chicago. ‘WESTERN EXP! 7:10 P.M. RESS.—Pullman Lovee ing Car to Chicago, and Harrisburg to Cleve Dining Car to cago. 0PM, SOUTHWESTERN EXPRESS.—Pullmaa Sleeping and Dining Cars to St. Louis, and Sleep- ing Car Harrisburg to Cincinnatl. 10:40 P.M, PACIFIC EXPRESS.—Pullman Sleeping Car to Pittsburg. 7:50 A.M. for Kane, 1. Rochester, and Niagara Fulls daily, ex: ndiay. 10:30 A.M. for Elmira and Renovo, gaily, except qaunday For Williamsport daily, 8:40 Fst. t for Williamsport, Rochester, Buffal ‘Niagara Fulis daily, except Saturday, with ing Car Washington to. Suspension’ Bridge Buttalo. 10:40 T.M. for Erie, Canandaigua, Rochester, But- falo, and Niagara Falls daily, Sleeping Car Wash- ington to Eimira. ‘or Philadelphia, New York and the East. 4:00 P.M. “CONGRESSIONAL LIMITED.” all Pare lor Curs with Dining Car froz for zn Baltimore, New York daily, for Philadelphia week-days. Regular at 7:05, (Diniog Cur), 7:20, 9:00, 107 oO Car), and 11:00 (Dining Gar) A. 8:15, , 6:40, 10:00, and 11:35 P day, 7:05 (Dining Car), 7:20, 9:00, Car AML, 12:18. 3:15, 4:20, 6:40. 10:00, 11:35 P.M. For Philadelphia only, Fast Express 30 AM. week-days. Express, 2:01 and 6:40 -M. daily. For Boston, without change, 7:59 A.M. week-days, and 3:15 P.M. dally. For Baitiuose, €:25, 7:05, 4:20, 7:50 11:00, and 1 AL 8:40 (4:00 Limited), 4:20, 7:10, 10:00. 10: 11-15, For Fope's Creek Wine, 7:20 A.M. and dails, except Sunday. For Annapolis; 7:20, 9:00 A.M.. 12:15 and 4:20 P. "aici Sunday. Sundays, 9:00 A M. Atlantic Const Line. Ex for Richmond, Jack- 30 A.M. 3:50 P.M. analy. M. daily. sonville and Tampa, 4:30 A.M.. Richmond and Atlanta, 8:40 P. mond only, 10:57 A.M. week. Accommodation ‘for Quantico, 7 4:25 rs. PM. week For Alexandria, 4:30, 6: 1 -M., 12:50, 1: 0, and 1 4:30, 7:45, 9:45 A.M., Pe Leave Alexandria 8:00. 9: for Washington, 25 AM., 1 35 SEASHORE CONNECTIONS. For Atlantic City. 9:00 (Saturdays onts). 11:00 A.M. weck days, 12:15 and 11:35 mah For Cape May, 10:00 A. (Saturdays only), P.M. week 1:35 P.M. dai Ticket offices, northeast corner of 15th Pennsylvania avenue, and at the st , B streets, where orders can be left for the check- ing of baggage to destination from hotels and res jences,, 8 M. PREVOST, 3. R. Woop, General Manager. General Passenzer Agent. 10:09, P.M. 12:15 SOUTHERN RAILWAY. @icdmont Air Line.) Kchedule in effect July 28, 1895. All trains irrive and leave at Pennsylvania Passenger Station. 5:00 A.M:—Dally-Local for Danville. Connects at. Manassas for Strasburg, 7, except At Lynchburg with the’Norfck and Western: daly and ‘with C. & ©. dally for Natural Bridge and Clifton Forge. . 1146 AM.—Daily—The UNITED STATES FAST MAIL carries Pullman Buffet Sleepers New York and Washington to Jackronville, uniting ‘at Ghar lotte with Pullman Sleeper for Augusta; also Pull- man Sleeper New York to Mcntgowery, with con for New Orleane; connects at Atlanta with ‘Sleeper for Bi m, Memphis and St. Louis. See P.M.—Local for Strasburg, daily, except Sun- P.M.—Daily—Local for Charlottesville. 343 P.M.—Daily_WASHINGTON AND SOUTH- WESTERN VESTIBULED LIMITED, Pullman Vestibuled Sleepers and Dining Cars, man Sleepers Washington to Chat Asheville and via Charlotte, Columbia and Day Coach Washington to Jacksonville. Parlor Car Go- jumbla to Augusta. Car from Gi to_ Montgomery. "TRAINS BETWEEN WASHINGTON AND ROUND HILL leave Washi 9:01 AM. daily, 1:00 P.M. and 4:89 P. . except Sunday, and 6: P-M. Sundays, only. for Hound Hut, and 33 Pe daily, except iy, for Leesburg; 6:25 P.M dat ? = ferndon. Returning, arrive at Woshington ML end 7:00 PAM. dally, end 2:25 Peat. datiy cept’ Sunday from Round Hill, 8.34 AM cept. Sunday from Leeabui eeRtpt ‘Sunday, trom Herndon only, Through trains from the south arrive at Wasbing- fon G42 AM. 2:20 PM. amd 8:00 Pat. “aay. anassas Division, 9:45 A.M. dally, exeept Sunday, ond 8:40 A.M. daily from Charlottesvitic: Tickets, Slecplog Car reservation and information furnished at offices, S11 and 1300 Penrsylvauia aver Aue, and at Tunsslvania Railroad Passenger Stas Hi. GREEN, General Superintendent. i. M. CULP. ‘Trathic Manoger. A. TURK, General Passenger L. 8. Brown, CHESAPEAKE AND OHIO RAILWAY, Schedule in effect July 1, 1895. Trains leave dally from Luton Station (B. apd 6th and B sts. a the grandest scene: P.) the han Ice west in America, with jest and most complete solid train sery- from Washington. 2:25 P.M. DAILY.—“Cincinnat! and St. Louls Bpecial”’—Solld Vestibuled, Newly Equipped, Elec- tric-lighted, Steam-heated Trein, Pullman's finest sleeping cars Wasi ington to Louisville, Cincionath, Indianapolis and St. Din without change. .M. DAILY.—The famous “F. FP. V. Lim. ited. A eolid vestibuled train, with dining car and Pullman Sleepers for Cincinnati, Lexington and Louisville, without change. Pullman Sieeper Wash- on to Virginia Hot Springs, without change, week days. Observation car from Hinton. © Arrive Gincinnati, 5:50 p.m; Lexington, :00 p.m,: Loulae Hille, "0:40" p.m.; ndianapolin, 11:08 p.m: Chicager 7:30’ a.m., and St. Louis, 7:30 connects in, Union Depot for all_points. 10:57 CEPT SUNDAY.—For O4 Potat Only rail line. AM., Cumfort and’ Norfolk. 2:23 P.M. DAIL’ Express for Gordonsville, Charlottesville, Waynesboro’, Staunton and incl pal Virginia potnts, daily; for Rieimond, daily, ex- cept Sut a Iman locations and tickets at company’s of fices, 513 and 1421 Pennsylvania avenue. H. W. FULLER, mh4 General Passenger Agent. HOTELS. HE HAMILTON— = 14TH AND K STS. N.W. ‘Thoroughly renovated; new and modern plamb ing throughout; convenient to wll departments ss ‘interest: low rates for summer, Ses dio rea BALL & POLLARD. AND TA. AVE. N.W. J stots ees aa ae Enropcan pian, TERS DyiTsm STEAM CARPET CLEANING. Specialties GiNe in’ matress REMAKING. Ask us for estiate—given for thé asking. W. B. MOSES & SONS, F and 11th, my20-tf AMMONIATED STEAM CARPET CLEANING Werks—Carpet» cleaned in the best Mattresses inade to order. Office, 1720 Pa. ave. Works, 1708 and 1710 E n.w. Telephone 804. tf M. NEWMYER, Manager,