publication of a Report from the Judge Advocate of the United States,
disclosing the existence of a wide-spread conspiracy at the West, which
had for its object the overthrow of the Union. This conspiracy, the
Report stated, had a military organization, with a commander-in-chief,
general and subordinate officers, and five hundred thousand enrolled
members, all bound to a blind obedience to the orders of their
superiors, and pledged to "take up arms against any government found
waging war against a people endeavoring to establish a government of
their own choice."
The organization, it was said, was in every way hostile to the Union,
and friendly to the so-called Confederacy; and its ultimate objects were
"a general rising in Missouri," and a similar "rising in Indiana, Ohio,
Illinois, and Kentucky, in cooperation with a Rebel force which was to
invade the last-named State."
Startling and incredible as the Report seemed, it told nothing but the
truth, and it did not tell the whole truth. It omitted to state that the
organization was planned in Richmond; that its operations were directed
by Jacob Thompson, who was in Canada for that purpose; and that
wholesale robbery, arson, and midnight assassination were among its
designs.
The point marked out for the first attack was Camp Douglas, at Chicago.
The eight thousand Rebel soldiers confined there, being liberated and
armed, were to be joined by the Canadian refugees and Missouri
"Butternuts" engaged in their release, and the five thousand and more
members of the treasonable order resident in Chicago. This force, of
nearly twenty thousand men, would be a nucleus about which the
conspirators in other parts of Illinois could gather; and, being joined
by the prisoners liberated from other camps, and members of the order
from other States, would form an army a hundred thousand strong. So
fully had everything been foreseen and provided for, that the leaders
expected to gather and organize this vast body of men within the space
of a fortnight! The United States could bring into the field no force
capable of withstanding the progress of such an army. The consequences
would be, that the whole character of the war would be changed; its
theatre would be shifted from the Border to the heart of the Free
States; and Southern independence, and the beginning at the North of
that process of disintegration so confidently counted on by the Rebel
leaders at the outbreak of hostilities, would have followed.
What saved the nation from being drawn into this whirlpool of ruin?
Nothing but the cool brain, sleepless vigilance, and wonderful sagacity
of one man,--a young officer never read of in the newspapers,--removed
from field-duty because of disability, but commissioned, I verily
believe, by Providence itself to ferret out and foil this deeper-laid,
wider-spread, and more diabolical conspiracy than any that darkens the
page of history. Other men--and women, too--were instrumental in
dragging the dark iniquity to light; but they failed to fathom its full
enormity, and to discover its point of outbreak. He did that; and he
throttled the tiger when about to spring, and so deserves the lasting
gratitude of his country. How he did it I propose to tell in this paper.
It is a marvellous tale; it will read more like romance than history;
but, calling to mind what a good man once said to me, "Write the truth;
let people doubt, if they will," I shall narrate the facts.
There is nothing remarkable in the appearance of this young man. Nearly
six feet high, he has an erect, military carriage, a frank, manly face,
and looks every inch a soldier,--such a soldier as would stand up all
day in a square hand-to-hand fight with an open enemy; but the keenest
eye would detect in him no indication of the crafty genius which
delights to follow the windings of wickedness when burrowing in the
dark. But if not a Fouche or a Vidocq, he is certainly an able man; for,
in a section where able men are as plenty as apple-blossoms in June, he
was chosen to represent his district in the State Senate, and, entering
the army a subaltern officer, rose, before the Battle of Perryville, to
the command of a regiment. At that battle a Rebel bullet entered his
shoulder, and crushed the bones of his right elbow. This disabled him
for field duty, and so it came about that he assumed the light blue of
the veterans, and on the second day of May, 1864, succeeded General Orme
in command of the military post at Chicago.
When fairly settled in the low-roofed shanty which stands, a sort of
mute sentry, over the front gateway of Camp Douglas, the new Commandant,
as was natural, looked about him. He found the camp--about sixty acres
of flat, sandy soil, inclosed by a tight board fence, an inch thick, and
fourteen feet high--had a garrison of but two regiments of veteran
reserves, numbering, all told, only seven hundred men fit for duty. This
small force was guarding eight thousand Rebel prisoners, one third of
whom were Texas rangers, and guerrillas who had served under
Morgan,--wild, reckless characters, fonder of a fight than of a dinner,
and ready for any enterprise, however desperate, that held out the
smallest prospect of freedom. To add to the seeming insecurity, nearly
every office in the camp was filled with these prisoners. They served
out rations and distributed clothing to their comrades, dealt out
ammunition to the guards, and even kept the records in the quarters of
the Commandant. In fact, the prison was in charge of the prisoners, not
the prisoners in charge of the prison. This state of things underwent a
sudden change. With the exception of a very few, whose characters
recommended them to peculiar confidence, all were at once placed where
they belonged,--on the inner side of the prison-fence.
A post-office was connected with the camp, and this next received the
Commandant's attention. Everything about it appeared to be regular. A
vast number of letters came and went, but they all passed unsealed, and
seemed to contain nothing contraband. Many of them, however, were short
epistles on long pieces of paper, a curious circumstance among
correspondents with whom stationery was scarce and greenbacks were not
over-plenty. One sultry day in June, the Commandant builded a fire, and
gave these letters a warming; and lo! presto! the white spaces broke out
into dark lines breathing thoughts blacker than the fluid that wrote
them. Corporal Snooks whispered to his wife, away down in Texas, "The
forthe of July is comin', Sukey, so be a man; fur I'm gwine to
celerbrate. I'm gwine up loike a rocket, ef I does come down loike a
stick." And Sergeant Blower said to John Copperhead of Chicago, "Down in
'old Virginny' I used to think the fourth of July a humbug, but this
prison has made me a patriot. Now I'd like to burn an all-fired sight of
powder, and if you help, and God is willing, I shall do it." In a
similar strain wrote half a score of them.
Such patriotism seemed altogether too wordy to be genuine. It told
nothing, but it darkly hinted at dark events to come. The Commandant
bethought him that the Democratic Convention would assemble on the
fourth of July; that a vast multitude of people would congregate at
Chicago on that occasion; and that, in so great a throng, it would be
easy for the clans to gather, attack the camp, and liberate the
prisoners. "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," and the young
Commandant was vigilant. Soon Prison-Square received a fresh instalment
of prisoners. They were genuine "Butternuts," out at the toes, out at
the knees, out at the elbows, out everywhere, in fact, and of everything
but their senses. Those they had snugly about them. They fraternized
with Corporal Snooks, Sergeant Blower, and others of their comrades, and
soon learned that a grand pyrotechnic display was arranged to come off
on Independence-day. A huge bonfire was to be built outside, and the
prisoners were to salute the old flag, but not with blank cartridges.
But who was to light the outside bonfire? That the improvised
"Butternuts" failed to discover, and the Commandant set his own wits to
working. He soon ascertained that a singular organization existed in
Chicago. It was called "The Society of the Illini," and its object, as
set forth by its printed constitution, was "the more perfect development
of the literary, scientific, moral, physical, and social welfare of the
conservative citizens of Chicago." The Commandant knew a conservative
citizen whose development was not altogether perfect, and he recommended
him to join the organization. The society needed recruits and
initiation-fees, and received the new member with open arms. Soon he was
deep in the outer secrets of the order; but he could not penetrate its
inner mysteries. Those were open to only an elect few who had already
attained to a "perfect development"--of villany. He learned enough,
however, to verify the dark hints thrown out by the prisoners. The
society numbered some thousands of members, all fully armed, thoroughly
drilled, and impatiently waiting a signal to explode a mine deeper than
that in front of Petersburg.
But the assembling of the Chicago Convention was postponed to the
twenty-ninth of August, and the fourth of July passed away without the
bonfire and the fireworks.
The Commandant, however, did not sleep. He still kept his wits
a-working; the bogus "Butternuts" still ate prisoners' rations; and the
red flame still brought out black thoughts on the white letter-paper.
Quietly the garrison was reinforced, quietly increased vigilance was
enjoined upon the sentinels; and the tranquil, assured look of the
Commandant told no one that he was playing with hot coals on a barrel of
gunpowder.
So July rolled away into August, and the Commandant sent a letter giving
his view of the state of things to his commanding general. This letter
has fallen into my hands, and, as might sometimes makes right, I shall
copy a portion of it. It is dated August 12, and, in the formal phrase
customary among military men, begins:--
"I have the honor respectfully to report, in relation to the supposed
organization at Toronto, Canada, which was to come here in squads, then
combine, and attempt to rescue the prisoners of war at Camp Douglas,
that there is an armed organization in this city of five thousand men,
and that the rescue of our prisoners would be the signal for a general
insurrection in Indiana and Illinois....
"There is little, if any, doubt that an organization hostile to the
Government and secret in its workings and character exists in the States
of Indiana and Illinois, and that this organization is strong in
numbers. It would be easy, perhaps, at any crisis in public affairs, to
push this organization into acts of open disloyalty, if its leaders
should so will....
"Except in cases of considerable emergency, I shall make all
communications to your head-quarters on this subject by mail."
These extracts show, that, seventeen days before the assembling of the
Chicago Convention, the Commandant had become convinced that mail-bags
were safer vehicles of communication than telegraph-wires; that five
thousand armed traitors were then domiciled in Chicago; that they
expected to be joined by a body of Rebels from Canada; that the object
of the combination was the rescue of the prisoners at Camp Douglas; and
that success in that enterprise would be the signal for a general
uprising throughout Indiana and Illinois. Certainly, this was no little
knowledge to gain by two months' burrowing in the dark. But the
conspirators were not fools. They had necks which they valued. They
would not plunge into open disloyalty until some "crisis in public
affairs" should engage the attention of the authorities, and afford a
fair chance of success. Would the assembling of the Convention be such a
crisis? was now the question.
The question was soon answered. About this time, Lieutenant-Colonel B.
H. Hill, commanding the military district of Michigan, received a
missive from a person in Canada who represented himself to be a major in
the Confederate service. He expressed a readiness to disclose a
dangerous plot against the Government, provided he were allowed to take
the oath of allegiance, and rewarded according to the value of his
information. The Lieutenant-Colonel read the letter, tossed it aside,
and went about his business. No good, he had heard, ever came out of
Nazareth. Soon another missive, of the same purport, and from the same
person, came to him. He tossed this aside also, and went again about his
business. But the Major was a Southern Yankee,--the "cutest" sort of
Yankee. He had something to sell, and was bound to sell it, even if he
had to throw his neck into the bargain. Taking his life in his hand, he
crossed the frontier; and so it came about, that, late one night, a tall
man, in a slouched hat, rusty regimentals, and immense jack-boots, was
ushered into the private apartment of the Lieutenant-Colonel at Detroit.
It was the Major. He had brought his wares with him. They had cost him
nothing, except some small sacrifice of such trifling matters as honor,
fraternal feeling, and good faith towards brother conspirators, whom
they might send to the gallows; but they were of immense value,--would
save millions of money and rivers of loyal blood. So the Major said, and
so the Lieutenant-Colonel thought, as, coolly, with his cigar in his
mouth and his legs over the arm of his chair, he drew the important
secrets from the Rebel officer. Something good might, after all, come
out of Nazareth. The Lieutenant-Colonel would trust the fellow,--trust
him, but pay him nothing, and send him back to Toronto to worm out the
whole plan from the Rebel leaders, and to gather the whole details of
the projected expedition. But the Major knew with whom he was dealing.
He had faith in Uncle Sam, and he was right in having it; for, truth to
tell, if Uncle Sam does not always pay, he can always be trusted.
It was not long before the Major reappeared with his budget, which he
duly opened to the Lieutenant-Colonel. Its contents were interesting,
and I will give them to the reader as the Union officer gave them to the
General commanding the Northern Department. His communication is dated
August 16. It says:--
"I have the honor to report that I had another interview last evening
with Major ----, whose disclosures in relation to a Rebel plot for the
release of the prisoners at Camp Douglas I gave you in my letter of the
8th instant. I have caused inquiries to be made in Canada about Major
----, and understand that he does possess the confidence of the Rebel
agent, and that his statements are entitled to respect.
"He now informs me that he proceeded to Toronto, as he stated he would
when I last saw him; that about two hundred picked men, of the Rebel
refugees in Canada, are assembled at that place, who are armed with
revolvers and supplied with funds and transportation-tickets to Chicago;
and that already one hundred and fifty have proceeded to Chicago. That
he (Major ----) and the balance of the men are waiting for instructions
from Captain Hines, who is the commander of the expedition; that Captain
Hines left Toronto last Thursday for Chicago, and at this time is
doubtless at Niagara Falls, making the final arrangements with the chief
Rebel agents.
"Major ---- states that Saunders, Holbrook, and Colonel Hicks were at
Toronto while he was there, engaged in making preparations, etc. The
general plan is to accomplish the release of the prisoners at Camp
Douglas, and in doing so they will be assisted by an armed organization
at Chicago. After being released, the prisoners will be armed, and being
joined by the organization in Chicago, will be mounted and proceed to
Camp Morton, (at Indianapolis,) and there accomplish a similar object in
releasing prisoners. That for months, Rebel emissaries have been
travelling through the Northwest; that their arrangements are fully
matured; and that they expect to receive large accessions of force from
Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. They expect to destroy the works at
Ironton.
"Major ---- says further that he is in hourly expectation of receiving
instructions to proceed to Chicago with the balance of the party; that
he shall put up at the City Hotel, corner of Lake and State Streets, and
register his name as George ----; and that he will then place himself in
communication with Colonel Sweet, commanding at Chicago."
The Major did not "put up at the corner of Lake and State Streets," and
that fact relieved the Government from the trouble of estimating the
value of his services, and, what is more to be deplored, rendered it
impossible for the Commandant to recognize and arrest the Rebel leaders
during the sitting of the Chicago Convention. What became of the Major
is not known. He may have repented of his good deeds, or his treachery
may have been detected and he put out of the way by his accomplices.
It will be noticed how closely the Rebel officer's disclosures accorded
with the information gathered through indirect channels by the astute
Commandant. When the report was conveyed to him, he may have smiled at
this proof of his own sagacity; but he made no change in his
arrangements. Quietly and steadily he went on strengthening the camp,
augmenting the garrison, and shadowing the footsteps of all suspicious
new-comers.
At last the loyal Democrats came together to the great Convention, and
with them came Satan also. Bands of ill-favored men, in bushy hair, bad
whiskey, and seedy homespun, staggered from the railway-stations, and
hung about the street-corners. A reader of Dante or Swedenborg would
have taken them for delegates from the lower regions, had not their
clothing been plainly perishable, while the devils wear everlasting
garments. They had come, they announced, to make a Peace President, but
they brandished bowie-knives, and bellowed for war even in the sacred
precincts of the Peace Convention. But war or peace, the Commandant was
ready for it.
For days reinforcements had poured into the camp, until it actually
bristled with bayonets. On every side it was guarded with cannon, and,
day and night, mounted men patrolled the avenues to give notice of the
first hostile gathering. But there was no gathering. The conspirators
were there, two thousand strong, with five thousand Illini to back them.
From every point of the compass,--from Canada, Missouri, Southern
Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, New York, and even loyal Vermont, bloody-minded
men had come to give the Peace candidate a red baptism. But "discretion
is the better part of valor." The conspirators saw the preparations and
disbanded. Not long afterward one of the leaders said to me, "We had
spies in every public place,--in the telegraph-office, the camp itself,
and even _close by_ the Commandant's head-quarters, and knew, hourly,
all that was passing. From the observatory, opposite the camp, I myself
saw the arrangements for our reception. We outnumbered you two to one,
but our force was badly disciplined. Success in such circumstances was
impossible; and on the third day of the Convention we announced from
head-quarters that an attack at that time was impracticable. It would
have cost the lives of hundreds of the prisoners, and perhaps the
capture or destruction of the whole of us." So the storm blew over,
without the leaden rain, and its usual accompaniment of thunder and
lightning.
A dead calm followed, during which the Illini slunk back to their holes;
the prisoners took to honest ink; the bogus "Butternuts" walked the
streets clad like Christians, and the Commandant went to sleep with only
one eye open. So the world rolled around into November.
The Presidential election was near at hand,--the great contest on which
hung the fate of the Republic. The Commandant was convinced of this, and
wanted to marshal his old constituents for the final struggle between
Freedom and Despotism. He obtained a furlough to go home and mount the
stump for the Union. He was about to set out, his private secretary was
ready, and the carriage waiting at the gateway, when an indefinable
feeling took possession of him, holding him back, and warning him of
coming danger. It would not be shaken off, and reluctantly he postponed
the journey till the morrow. Before the morrow facts were developed
which made his presence in Chicago essential for the safety of the city
and the lives of the citizens. The snake was scotched, not killed. It
was preparing for another and a deadlier spring.
On the second of November, a well-known citizen of St. Louis, openly a
Secessionist, but secretly a loyal man, and acting as a detective for
the Government left the city in pursuit of a criminal. He followed him
to Springfield, traced him from there to Chicago, and on the morning of
November fourth, about the hour the Commandant had the singular
impression I have spoken of, arrived in the latter city. He soon learned
that the bird had again flown.
"While passing along the street," (I now quote from his report to the
Provost Marshal General of Missouri,) "and trying to decide what course
to pursue,--whether to follow this man to New York, or return to St.
Louis,--I met an old acquaintance, a member of the order of 'American
Knights,' who informed me that Marmaduke was in Chicago. After
conversing with him awhile, I started up the street, and about one block
farther on met Dr. E. W. Edwards, a practising physician in Chicago,
(another old acquaintance,) who asked me if I knew of any Southern
soldiers being in town. I told him I did; that Marmaduke was there. He
seemed very much astonished, and asked how I knew. I told him. He
laughed, and then said that Marmaduke was at his house, under the
assumed name of Burling, and mentioned, as a good joke, that he had a
British passport, _vised_ by the United States Consul under that name. I
gave Edwards my card to hand to Marmaduke, (who was another 'old
acquaintance,') and told him I was stopping at the Briggs House.
"That same evening I again met Dr. Edwards on the street, going to my
hotel. He said Marmaduke desired to see me, and I accompanied him to his
house." There, in the course of a long conversation, "Marmaduke told me
that he and several Rebel officers were in Chicago to cooperate with
other parties in releasing the prisoners of Camp Douglas, and other
prisons, and in inaugurating a Rebellion at the North. He said the
movement was under the auspices of the order of 'American Knights,' (to
which order the Society of the Illini belonged,) and was to begin
operations by an attack on Camp Douglas on election-day."
The detective did not know the Commandant, but he soon made his
acquaintance, and told him the story. "The young man," he says, "rested
his head upon his hand, and looked as if he had lost his mother." And
well he might! A mine had opened at his feet; with but eight hundred men
in the garrison it was to be sprung upon him. Only seventy hours were
left! What would he not give for twice as many? Then he might secure
reinforcements. He walked the room for a time in silence, then, turning
to the detective, said, "Do you know where the other leaders are?"--"I
do not."--"Can't you find out from Marmaduke?"--"I think not. He said
what he did say voluntarily. If I were to question him, he would suspect
me." That was true, and Marmaduke was not of the stuff that betrays a
comrade on compulsion. His arrest, therefore, would profit nothing, and
might hasten the attack for which the Commandant was so poorly prepared.
He sat down and wrote a hurried dispatch to his General. Troops! troops!
for God's sake, troops! was its burden. Sending it off by a
courier,--the telegraph told tales,--he rose, and again walked the room
in silence. After a while, with a heavy heart, the detective said, "Good
night," and left him.