BORN OF THE STORM.
Perhaps there was never any more galling and hated badge of defeat
imposed upon a conquered people than the "Bureau of Freedmen,
Refugees, and Abandoned Lands," a branch of the Federal executive
power which grew out of the necessities of the struggle to put
down rebellion, and to which, little by little, came to be referred
very many of those matters which could by no means be neglected,
but which did not properly fall within the purview of any other
branch of military administration. It is known, in these latter
days, simply as the Freedmen's Bureau, and thought to have been
a terrible engine of oppression and terror and infamy, because of
the denunciations which the former slave-owners heaped upon it,
and the usually accepted idea that the mismanaged and malodorous
Freedmen's Savings Bank was, somehow or other, an outgrowth and
exponent of this institution. The poor thing is dead now, and, like
dead humanity, the good it did has been interred with its bones.
It has been buried, with curses deep and bitter for its funeral
obsequies. Its officers have been loaded with infamy. Even its
wonderful results have been hidden from the sight of man, and its
history blackened with shame and hate. It is one of the curious
indices of public feeling that the North listened, at first, with
good-natured indifference to the virulent diatribes of the recently
conquered people in regard to this institution; after a time wonder
succeeded to indifference; until finally, while it was still an
active branch of the public service, wondering credulity succeeded,
and its name became synonymous with disgrace; so that now there
is hardly a corner of the land in which a man can be found brave
enough to confess that he wore the uniform and performed the duties
of an agent of the "Freedmen's Bureau." The thorough subserviency
of Northern sentiment to the domination of that masterly will
which characterized "the South" of the old regime was never better
illustrated. "Curse me this people!" said the Southern Balak--of
the Abolitionist first, of the Bureau-Officer next, and then of
the Carpet-Bagger. The Northern Balaam hemmed and paltered, and
then--_cursed the children of his loins_!
Of the freedmen, our recent allies in war, the grateful and devoted
friends, of the nation which had opened for them the gateway of the
future, not one of the whole four millions had a word to utter in
reproach of this branch of the service, in which they were particularly
interested. Strangely enough, too, none of those Union men of
the South, who had been refugees during the war or friends of that
Union after its close, joined in the complaints and denunciations
which were visited on this institution and its agents. Neither did
the teachers of colored schools, nor the officers and agents of
those charitable and missionary associations of the North, whose
especial work and purpose was the elevation and enlightenment of
the colored man, see fit to unite in that torrent of detraction
which swept over the country in regard to the "Bureau" and its
agents. But then, it may be that none of these classes were able
to judge truly and impartially of its character and works! They may
have been prepossessed in its favor to an extent which prevented
a fair and honest determination in regard to it.
Certain it is that those who stood upon the other side--those who
instituted and carried on rebellion, or the greater part of them,
and every one of those who opposed reconstruction, who fought to
the last moment the enfranchisement of the black; every one who
denied the right of the nation to emancipate the slave; every one
who clamored for the payment of the State debts contracted during
the war; all of those who proposed and imposed the famous "black
codes,"--every one of these classes and every man of each class avowed
himself unable to find words to express the infamy, corruption, and
oppression which characterized the administration of that climacteric
outrage upon a brave, generous, overwhelmed but unconquered
--forgiving but not to be forgiven, people.
They felt themselves to have been in all things utterly innocent
and guileless. The luck of war had been terribly against them, they
considered, but the right remained with them. They were virtuous.
Their opponents had not only been the aggressors at the outset,
but had shown themselves little better than savages by the manner
in which they had conducted the war; and, to crown the infamy of
their character, had imposed upon "the South" at its close that
most nefarious of all detestable forms of oppressive degradation,
"the Bureau." Their orators grew magniloquent over its tyrannical
oppression; the Southern press overflowed with that marvellous
exuberance of diatribe of which they are the acknowledged masters--to
all of which the complaisant North gave a ready and subservient
concurrence, until the very name reeked in the public mind with
infamous associations and degrading ideas.
A few men tried to stem the torrent. Some who had been in its service
even dared to insist that they had not thereby rendered themselves
infamous and unworthy. The nation listened for a time with kindly
pity to their indignant protests, and then buried the troublesome
and persistent clamorers in the silence of calm but considerate
disbelief. They were quietly allowed to sink into the charitable
grave of unquestioning oblivion. It was not any personal attaint
which befouled their names and blasted their public prospects, but
simply the fact that they had obeyed the nation's behest and done
a work assigned to them by the country's rulers. Thus it came to
pass that in one third of the country it was an ineffaceable brand
of shame to have been at any time an agent or officer of this
Bureau, and throughout the rest of the country it was accounted a
fair ground for suspicion. In it all, the conquering element was
simply the obedient indicator which recorded and proclaimed the
sentiment and wish of the conquered. The words of the enemy were
always regarded as being stamped with the mint-mark of truth and
verity, while the declarations of our allies accounted so apparently
false and spurious as to be unworthy of consideration, even when
attested by svvorn witnesses and written in blood upon a page of
history tear blotted and stained with savage deeds. All this was
perfectly natural, however, and arose, almost unavoidably, from
the circumstances under which the institution was created and the
duties which it was called upon to discharge. It may not be amiss
to consider again the circumstances under which it came to exist.
This is how this institution had its origin: As the war to put down
rebellion progressed and our armies advanced farther and farther
into the heart of the Confederacy, the most devoted and malignant
adherents of the Confederate cause abandoned their homes and
all that they could not easily take with them, and fled within
the Confederate lines. Those white people who were adverse to the
Confederate cause, or at least lukewarm in its support, spurred
by the rigors of conscription and the dangers of proscription and
imprisonment, took their lives in their hands, left their homes,
and fled by every available road to the shelter of the Federal
forces. Those who had no homes--the slaves--either deserted by their
owners or fancying they saw in that direction a glimmer of possible
freedom, swarmed in flank and rear of every blue-clad column which
invaded the Confederacy, by thousands and tens of thousands. They
fled as the Israelites did from the bondage of Egypt, with that
sort of instinctive terror which has in all ages led individuals,
peoples, and races to flee from the scene of oppression. The whites
who came to us were called "refugees," and the blacks at first
"contrabands," and after January 1, 1863, "freedmen." Of course
they had to be taken care of. The "refugee" brought nothing with
him; the freedrnan had nothing to bring. The abandoned lands of
the Confederates were, in many cases, susceptible of being used
to employ and supply these needy classes who came to us for aid
and sustenance. It was to do this that the Freedmen's Bureau was
created.
Its mission was twofold--to extend the helping hand to the needy
who without such aid must have perished by disease and want,
and to reduce the expenses of such charity by the cultivation and
utilization of abandoned lands. It was both a business and a missionary
enterprise. This was its work and mission until the war ended. Its
"agents" were chosen from among the wounded veteran officers of
our army, or were detached from active service by reason of their
supposed fitness on account of character or attainments. Almost
every one of them had won honor with the loss of limb or of health;
all had the indorsement and earnest approval of men high in command
of our armies, who had personal knowledge of their character and
believed in their fitness. This renders it all the more remarkable
that these men should so soon and so universally, as was stoutly
alleged and weakly believed, have become thieves and vagabonds
--corrupters of the blacks and oppressors of the whites. It only
shows how altogether impossible it is to foresee the consequences
of any important social or political movement upon the lives and
characters of those exposed to its influences.
When the war ended there were four millions of men, women, and
children without homes, houses, lands, money, food, knowledge, law,
right, family, friends, or possibility for self-support. All these
the Bureau adopted. They constituted a vast family of foundlings,
whose care was a most difficult and delicate matter, but there was
not one among them all who complained of the treatment they received.
It is somewhat strange, too, that the officers of this Branch of
the service should have all misbehaved in exactly the same manner.
Their acts of oppression and outrage were always perpetrated
in defence of some supposed right of a defenceless and friendless
race, overwhelmed with poverty--the bondmen of ignorance--who had
no money with which to corrupt, no art with which to beguile, and
no power with which to overawe these representatives of authority.
For the first time in the history of mankind, the corrupt and
unprincipled agents of undefined power became the servants, friends,
protectors, agents, and promoters of the poor and weak and the
oppressors of the rich, the strong, the learned, and the astute.
It may be said that this view cannot be true; that thousands
of men selected from the officers of our citizen-soldiery by the
unanswerable certificate of disabling wounds and the added prestige
of their commander's recommendation, a class of men in physical,
intellectual and moral power and attainments far superior to the
average of the American people--it may be said that such could not
have become all at once infamously bad; and, if they did suffer such
transformation, would have oppressed the blacks at the instigation
of the whites, who were willing and able to pay well for such
subversion of authority, and not the reverse. This would seem to
be true, but we are not now dealing with speculations, but with
facts! We know that they did become such a pest because at the South
they were likened to the plagues of Egypt, and the North reiterated
and affirmed this cry and condoled with the victims of the oppression
with much show of penitence, and an unappeasable wrath toward the
instruments of the iniquity. Thus the voice of the people--that
voice which is but another form of the voice of God--proclaimed
these facts to the world, so that they must thenceforth be held
indisputable and true beyond the utmost temerity of scepticism.
The _facts_ remain. The puzzling _why_, let whosoever will endeavor
to elucidate.
Perhaps the most outrageous and debasing of all the acts of the
Bureau, in the eyes of those who love to term themselves "the South,"
was the fact that its officers and agents, first of all, allowed
the colored man to be sworn in opposition to and in contradiction
of the word of a white man.
That this should be exasperating and degrading to the Southern
white man was most natural and reasonable. The very corner-stone
of Southern legislation and jurisprudence for more than a hundred
years was based upon this idea: the negro can have no rights, and
can testify as to no rights or wrongs, as against a white man. So
that the master might take his slave with him when he committed
murder or did any other act in contravention of law or right,
and that slave was like the mute eunuch of the seraglio, silent
and voiceless before the law. Indeed, the law had done for the
slave-owner, with infinitely more of mercy and kindness, what the
mutilators of the upper Nile were wont to do for the keepers of
the harems of Cairo and Constantinople--provided them with slaves
who should see and hear and serve, but should never testify of
what they saw and knew. To reverse this rule, grown ancient and
venerable by the practice of generations, to open the mouths which
had so long been sealed, was only less infamous and dangerous than
to accord credence to the words they might utter. To do both was
to "turn back the tide of time," indeed, and it passed the power
of language to portray the anger, disgust, and degradation which
it produced in the Southern mind. To be summoned before the officer
of the Bureau, confronted with a negro who denied his most solemn
averments, and was protected in doing so by the officer who,
perhaps, showed the bias of the oppressor by believing the negro
instead of the gentleman, was unquestionably, to the Southerner,
the most degrading ordeal he could by any possibility be called
upon to pass through.
From this it will be understood that Colonel Desmit passed a most
uneasy night after Nimbus had left his house. He had been summoned
before the Bureau! He had expected it. Hardly had he given way
to his petulant anger when he recognized the folly of his course.
The demeanor of the colored man had been so "sassy" and aggravating,
however, that no one could have resisted his wrath, he was sure.
Indeed, now that he came to look back at it, he wondered that
he had been so considerate. He was amazed that he had not shot
the impudent rascal on the spot instead of striking him with his
walking-stick, which he was very confident was the worst that could
be urged against him. However, that was enough, for he remembered
with horror that, not long before, this same Bureau officer had
actually imprisoned a most respectable and correct man for having
whipped a "nigger" at work in his crop, who had been "too sassy"
to be tolerated by any gentleman.
So it was with much trepidation that the old man went into the town
the next morning, secured the services of a lawyer, and prepared
for his trial before the "Bureau." Nimbus was intercepted as he
came into town with his wife, and an attempt made to induce him to
withdraw the prosecution, but that high-minded litigant would hear
nothing of the proposed compromise. He had put his hand to the plow
and would not look back. He had appealed to the law--"the Bureau"
and only "the Bureau" should decide it. So Colonel Desmit and his
lawyer asked a few hours' delay and prepared themselves to resist
and disprove the charge of assault upon Nimbus. The lawyer once
proposed to examine the papers in the case, but Desmit said that
was useless--the boy was no liar, though they must make him out
one if they could. So, at the time appointed, with his lawyer
and train of witnesses, he went before "the Bureau," and there met
Nimbus and his wife, Lugena.
"The Bureau" wore the uniform of a captain of United States infantry,
and was a man about forty-five years of age, grave and serious of
look, with an empty sleeve folded decorously over his breast. His
calm blue eyes, pale, refined face, and serious air gave him the
appearance of a minister rather than a ruthless oppressor, but his
reputation for cruelty among certain people was as well established
as that of Jeffreys. He greeted Mr. Desmit and his attorney with
somewhat constrained politeness, and when they were seated proceeded
to read the complaint, which simply recited that Colonel Desmit,
having employed Lugena, the wife of complainant, at a given rate
per month, had failed to make payment, and had finally, without
cause, ordered her off his premises.
"Is that all?" asked the lawyer.
"That is all," answered the officer.
"Has no other complaint been lodged against Colonel Desmit?"
"None."
"We cannot--that is--we did not expect this," said the attorney,
and then after a whispered consultation with his client, he added,
"We are quite willing to make this matter right. We had entirely
misunderstood the nature of the complaint."
"Have you any further complaint to make against Colonel Desmit?"
asked the officer, of Nimbus.
"No," said that worthy, doubtfully. "He was pretty brash wid me,
an' 'llowed ter hit me wid a stick; but he didn't--at least not ter
speak on--so I don't make no 'count ob dat. 'Twas jes dis matter
ob Lugeny's wuk dat made me bring him h'yer--nuffin' else."
"When did this matter of the stick occur?" asked the officer.
"On'y jes yeste'day, sah."
"Where was it?"
"Up ter Marse Potem's, sah. In his house."
"How did it happen?"
"Wal, you see, sah, I went up dar ter see ef I could buy a track
ob lan" from him, an'--"
"What!" exclaimed Desmit, in astonishment. "You didn't say a word
to me about land."
"No more I didn't," answered Nimbus, "kase yer didn't gib me no
chance ter say a word 'bout it. 'Peared like de fus sight on me
made yer mad, an' den yer jes feathered away on me, spite ob all I
could do er say. Yer see, sah," to the officer, "I'd made a bit ob
money in de wah, an' wanted ter see ef I could buy a bit ob pore
lan' ob Marse Desmit--a track jes good fer nothin on'y fer a nigga
ter starve on--but afore I could git to dat Marse Desmit got so
uproarous-like dat I clean fergot what'twas I cum fer."
"There was evidently a misunderstanding," said the attorney.
"I should think so," said the officer, dryly. "You say you have no
complaint to make about that affair?" he added to Nimbus. "No,"
said he; "'twan't a tingob any 'count, nohow. I can't make out
what'twas made Marse Potem so fractious anyhow. I reckon, as he says,
dar must hev ben some mistake about it. Ef he'll fix up dis matter
wid Lugena, I hain't no mo' complaint, an' I'se mighty sorry 'bout
dat, kase Marse Desmit hab allus been mighty kin' ter me--all 'cept
dis time an' once afo'."
"There's the money for the woman," said the attorney, laying some
bills on the officer's table; "and I may say that my client greatly
regrets the unfortunate misunderstanding with one of the best of
his old slaves. He desires me to say that the woman's services have
been entirely satisfactory, and that she can keep right on under
the contract, if she desires."
So that was settled. The officer discharged Colonel Desmit, commended
Nimbus for the sensible view he had taken of the quarrel, and the
parties gave way for other matters which awaited the officer's
attention.
This would not seem to have been so very oppressive, but anything
growing out of the war which had resulted so disastrously for him
was hateful to Colonel Desmit, and we should not wonder if his
grandchildren told over, with burning cheeks, the story of the
affront which was offered to their ancestor in haling him before
that infamous tribunal, "the Bureau," to answer a charge preferred
by a "nigger."