The folly of not beginning active war in the West; the madness of
not seizing California at the outset; the rich prizes of the Pacific
left ungathered, for has not Semmes almost driven Yankee ships from
the sea with the Alabama, and does not Waddell, with the cockle-shell
Shenandoah, burn and destroy the entire Pacific whaling fleet?
The free-booter sails half around the world, unchallenged, after
the war. Oh, coward Knights of the Golden Circle! Fools, and blind,
to let California slip from your grasp!
Maxime Valois was right. Virginian rule ruined the Confederacy.
Too late, too late!
Had Sidney Johnston lived; had Robert E. Lee been willing to
leave sacred Virginia uncovered for a fortnight in the days before
he marshalled the greatest army the Southerners ever paraded, and
invaded the North boldly, a peace would have resulted.
Peyton thinks bitterly of the irreparable loss of Sidney Johnston.
He recalls the death of peerless Jackson. Jackson, always aggressive,
active, eager to reach for the enemy, and ever successful.
Wasted months when the prestige was with the South, the fixed
determination of Lee to keep the war in Virginia, and Davis's deadly
jealousy of any leading minds, seem to have lost the brightest
chances of a glorious success.
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