[296]
meeting that I could not attend because I went in for vigorous prosecution of the war, and as evidence of it I had gone.
When I reached Washington I called upon the President.
He received me very kindly and conversed with me about several matters which interested him. One of them was upon the question of punishing desertion by death.
I had observed how much the army was losing by desertion and that there was no punishing for that crime.
I advised him very strongly to punish deserters ruthlessly by death, until, in the Army of the Potomac at least, desertion should be stopped.
At this time men were deserting and going home, and then selling themselves for substitutes or enlisting to fill the quota of some other town, getting large sums of money to go back again.
Some of them even would desert from the troops of one State and get appointed officers of the troops of another State.
The President was a good deal disturbed by the arguments I put before him, but at last he came round and said, with a face that showed a very sorrowful determination:--
“How can I have a butcher's day every Friday in the Army of the Potomac?”
“Better have that,” said I, “than have the Army of the Potomac so depleted by desertion that good men will be butchered on other days than Friday.”
But we never convinced each other on that subject; it was the one subject on which we agreed to disagree.
That I was right and he was wrong I may have occasion to show hereafter.
“Mr. President,” said I, after we had finished discussing the matter of desertions, “when I accepted the commission with which you were kind enough to honor me, I told you that we had disagreed in politics, but that so long as I held the commission I should fully and faithfully sustain all the acts of your administration, and when I felt that I could not do that, I would return the commission.
But you asked me to promise to lay before you any matter upon which I disagreed with you, before I took that step.
Accordingly I have come here to lay before you your method of carrying on this war as it strikes me, and to put before you what I think must be the result if some change is not made.
1 can speak freely, because the thing to which I wish to call your attention is not your fault but your misfortune, ”
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.