Part 4 (2/2)

”Amusing and interesting instances were given by the speaker of the hairbreadth escapes and reckless daring of General Sharpe's scouts, and he concluded an entertaining discourse by paying a hearty and well-deserved tribute to their patriotic and fearless devotion, to which was greatly owing, in his opinion, the winning of some of our greatest victories, and the fortunate issue of the war itself.”

In 1868 the church was completed, a building ”whose granite walls are so thick, and hard-wood finish so substantial, that pa.s.sing centuries should add only the mellowness of age.” Edward would not allow his name deposited in the corner-stone, as many wished, but since his death a bronze tablet, with the following inscription, has been placed in the vestibule.

In Memoriam, Rev. Edward Payson Roe, Minister of the First Presbyterian Ch. of the Highlands.

1866-1875.

Author, Pastor, Friend, This Building Stands the Monument of His Earnest Labors.

Erected: 1868.

After the completion of the church the old parsonage was enlarged and remodelled, and so during his pastorate thirty thousand dollars were raised and expended in permanent improvements.

While living at Highland Falls Edward continually met the officers and soldiers of West Point. A soldier at one time was the leader of his choir, in which was also a quartet from the military band. He writes as follows of a mountain camp at West Point which recalled some of his own army life:--

”About the middle of August the Cadet Corps left their airy tent villas on the plain at West Point, and took up their line of march for the mountains. The pioneers had preceded, and the road was practicable not only for infantry, but for carriages and stages laden with fair ladies from the hotels. The selected camping ground, though rough indeed compared with the velvet lawns of West Point, was admirably adapted for the purpose. It was a broken, uneven field, on the property of T. Cozzens, Esq. Here in the midst of the wildest mountain scenery the young soldiers experienced, to quite an extent, the realities of life at the front, minus the element of danger. But the mimicry was almost perfect, and so suggestive of bygone days to an old campaigner, that I cannot refrain from indulging in a brief description.

”A wild, romantic drive of three or four miles through winding valleys, jagged boulders and ledges, and overshadowing trees, brought us to the edge of the camp-ground. Along the road ran the familiar military telegraph, the wire now looped up to a convenient tree, now sustained by the slender portable pole that bends but never breaks beneath the seemingly gossamer strand. Just before reaching the place we struck off upon one of those temporary roads that we were ever extemporizing in Virginia. First we saw the white tents through the foliage, then the gleaming of a sentry's musket, the cover of an ambulance, and in a moment more we were in the midst of the encampment, and the spell was complete. Through the strong laws of a.s.sociation the old life rushed back again, and what often seems a far-away dream was as present and real as six years ago. But apart from all its suggestiveness to those who dwelt in canvas cities and engaged in war's realities, the scene was novel, beautiful, and deeply interesting. Here in the midst of the wooded highlands was a fac-simile, reproduced in miniature, of thousands of encampments, created by the Rebellion, in the equally wild regions of the Southern States. Here were our future generals learning to apply practically to the roughness of nature the principles and tactics that might seem comparatively easy on paper or gra.s.sy plain. Sloping down to the right, the encampment bordered on Round Pond, a beautiful, transparent little lake, fringed with water-lilies, and mirroring back the rocks and foliage of its rugged banks. Through the courtesy of Mr. Cozzens we and others were soon skimming its surface in an airy little pleasure boat. A quarter of a mile to the left, in full view, with a descent of a hundred feet, Long Pond glistened in the bright August sun. All around rose the green billowy hills as far as the eye could reach.

We had hardly noted this beautiful commingling of wood and water before the stirring notes of the drum announced skirmish drill. On each side of the camp a squad marched briskly out, and was soon lost in the forest. Soon from its unseen depths there came a shot, then another, then several, ending in a rapid, scattering fire, and I was back again on the skirmish line in Virginia. By this time the other detachment had reached position, and were 'popping' away in the old familiar style. The hills caught up the reports and echoed them down again multiplied a hundredfold.

”Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back; To many mingled sounds at once, The awakened mountain gave response;”

and these regions of silvan peace and solitude were disturbed as they never had been since the days when Was.h.i.+ngton made West Point his military base, and Fort Putnam was the chief Highland stronghold.

”On a high eminence to the right fluttered a signal flag. I shall never forget the last time that my special attention was called to that very significant object. It was on a bold ledge of the Blue Ridge west of Culpepper, Va. We were out on picket, lounging away a long bright October afternoon, when in the far distance a white flutter like that of a lady's handkerchief caught the wary eye of the colonel. Listlessness vanished. All gla.s.ses were out, but practised eyes discovered, not a token of ladies' favor, but a signal of stern war. Lee was turning our right flank, and then followed the famous race for Centreville heights.

”But the sun had sunk behind a blue Highland, and the tap of the drum announcing parade recalled from reminiscences of the past.

Creaking, groaning, crunching up the rough road came stages, carriages, and wagons of all descriptions laden with fair ladies, who in bright summer costumes seemed airy indeed, but from the looks of the jaded horses, were anything but thistle-downs. The wild mountain camp was soon brilliant with Fifth Avenue toilets. There was a general 'presenting of arms,'

though not with belligerent aspect, and it required no astrologer to predict a conjunction of Mars and Venus. Old fogy that I was, recalling the days of our humdrum soldiering long and well gone by, here I was in the midst of a brilliant active campaign, where wounds were given and received, human hearts pierced to the very circ.u.mference--perhaps deeper sometimes. Yon tall, soldierly figure of the commandant is a secondary one here. Cupid is the field marshal of the day. With the near approach of night there was a suspension of hostilities. The fair invaders gradually drew off their attacking forces, and soon were lost in the deeper shadows that lay at the mountain base. The next morning at 8 A.M., the Cadet Corps returned to their encampment on the plain at West Point.”

My brother's att.i.tude toward West Point is clearly shown in the following vigorous defence of the National Academy which was published in _The Evangelist_.

”The Military Academy here has lately had an unenviable degree of notoriety and of severe criticism. Some go so far as to advise the breaking up of the entire inst.i.tution. No one so thought when the gallant Reynolds at the cost of his life made such vigorous battle at Gettysburg as to check Lee, and secure to us a favourable position for fighting out the decisive conflict of the war. No one so advised when a graduate of West Point announced the surrender of Vicksburg; when another marched from Atlanta to the sea; and another swept down the Shenandoah Valley like a whirlwind. During our national struggle for life, trained soldiers did for us what educated lawyers, physicians, clergymen, and statesmen do for a community at all times. Next to the courage and patriotism of the people, we have to thank the skill of West Point, that we are One Nation to-day.

”There are those who advocate State military schools, in other words that we have an army officered by men of local interests and feelings. We shall then have generals to whom a single State is more than the whole Union. We shall have patriots educated by the New York ring, and the champions of Tammany Hall. No, the soldiers and sailors of the United States--as they are in the service of the whole country--should be educated by the whole country, and upon their maps State boundaries should be blotted out.

”Others advise, instead of this National Academy, that a course of military instruction be added to our colleges. But in this way students would only pick up a smattering of military science, in connection with a dozen other sciences, that would be quite useless in time of war. If we are to be fully armed against attack, we need men thoroughly educated in military science by the Nation, and therefore bound by every instinct of honor, grat.i.tude, and a.s.sociation to defend her in her hour of peril.

”Does West Point now furnish such an education and such men? Yes, as truly as it ever has done; and I think it could be shown that it was never in better condition than it is this day. But what does the recent 'outrage' indicate, and what the 'persecution of Cadet Smith?' Living near the inst.i.tution, and yet having no connection with it--nothing to gain or lose--I can form as correct and unprejudiced an opinion as those who base theirs upon partial, imperfect reports of isolated incidents. One needs but to visit the Point daily, or nightly, in order to see that perfect discipline is maintained. The 'outrage' referred to was the expelling of three students by the first cla.s.s. This action no one defends. From no source have I heard it so severely condemned as by the officers themselves. If it could have been foreseen it would have been prevented. In the most quiet communities there are sudden outbreaks of pa.s.sion and violence. Is the community where such an event occurs, and which goes on its orderly way the remaining three hundred and sixty-four days of the year, to be called 'lawless?' Is the hasty, pa.s.sionate act of a few, wrong as it may be, to give character to all? Moreover, in judging acts we should consider the motives. In this case they throw much light on the action. The sentiment of the corps is one of intense disgust at the vice of lying. A cadet cannot commit a more serious offence against the received code of honor. The parties expelled were believed to have been guilty of this offence, and their dismissal was a sudden and lawless expression of the general anger and disgust. The action was contrary to the character of a soldier--the man of discipline and iron rules. But was it contrary to the character of frank, impulsive youth? Are those who have scarcely reached their majority to be judged in the same light as cool, grey-bearded veterans? I do not see how the officers are to blame because they could not foresee the trouble. Is a careful housekeeper 'reckless' because a kerosene lamp explodes? Do you say she ought to use non-explosive material? Then you must send s.e.xagenarians to West Point instead of boys.

”The same principle applies to the 'persecution.' Critical editors, and advanced politicians like Ben. Butler, require of a cla.s.s of young men gathered from every part of the land what they could scarcely obtain from the reformers of New England as a body. There is no use in ignoring the general and widespread prejudice of race.

Many who grieve most at the wrongs of the colored people still feel that instinctive drawing back from social contact. Do those that condemn the young men most severely introduce the colored element largely into their own social circles? If not, then they should not be so ready to throw stones. Colored cadets sent to West Point must be treated in precisely the same way as the others. The law forms them all into a social community with equal rights. Is it to be expected that the utmost cordiality should be shown by hot-blooded, unformed, and often unwise youth, having in somewhat intenser form the same prejudices with those who condemn them? They have probably acted in the matter very much as the sons of the editors and ministers and reformers, who have been so severe upon them, would have acted in like circ.u.mstances. That happy day when the brotherhood of the race shall be honestly and lovingly acknowledged I fear is yet far distant, nor is it to be hastened by attempting to force a social intercourse against which there may be a natural aversion. As far as the officers are concerned, I believe that they have tried to treat young Smith with strict impartiality, and to give him every opportunity. The affairs of the Academy seem to go forward like clock-work. Considering the sore and excited state of mind among the cadets, their order and subordination have been remarkable. Of course two hundred and brought together from every diversity of life, could not be expected to act like nicely adjusted machines; but with the exception of those two affairs, what has there been to justify the charges of 'lawlessness' or 'looseness of discipline?'

”In view of its services, it is strange that anyone should speak seriously of breaking up West Point. It has paid back to the nation all that has been spent upon it a hundredfold.

”P.S.--May I add a word in regard to the commandant of this post, who is the officer who has special care of the students in the Academy. Political attacks do not spare anybody, and during the recent troubles slurs have been thrown out even against General Upton. It has been intimated that fear of the authorities at Was.h.i.+ngton has made him over-lenient and slack in his discipline toward the first cla.s.s, as President Grant and others high in power have sons in this cla.s.s.

”These disparaging remarks are made either by those who know nothing of General Upton's character and antecedents, or else they are the grossest slanders. Search the army through and it would be impossible to find a man more utterly devoid of the spirit that truckles to power. Nature never put into his composition the least spice of obsequiousness, and one has only to look into the man's face and hear him speak five words in order to know it. He belongs to that cla.s.s of men who pay more attention to the poor and humble than to the high and haughty.

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