THE WRATH OF THE NORTH
The mad act of crazy Wilkes Booth set the whole country crazy. The South
was aghast, natural recoil intensified by apprehension. The North,
convulsed with anguish, was newly inflamed, and even when the cooler
moment came and we were acquitted of any responsibility for Booth's crazy
act, the angry humour of a still sore heart was against us. We, of both
sections, who suffered so lately as one people in the death of President
McKinley, can comprehend the woe and unreason of the moment.
Indignation and memorial meetings simply flayed the South alive. At one in
the New York Custom House, when the grieving, exasperated people did not
know whether to weep or to curse the more, or to end it by simply hanging
us all, Mr. Chittenden rose and said: "Peace, be still!" And declared the
death of Lincoln providential, God removing the man of mercy that due
punishment might be meted out to rebels. Before the pacific orator
finished, people were yelling: "Hang Lee!" and "The rebels deserve
damnation!" Pulpits fulminated. Easter sermons demanded the halter, exile,
confiscation of property, for "rebels and traitors"; yet some voices rose
benignly, as Edward Everett Hale's, Dr. Huntington's, and Rufus Ellis', in
words fitting the day. Beecher urged moderation.
The new President, Andrew Johnson, was breathing out threatenings and
slaughter before Lincoln's death. Thousands had heard him shout from the
southern portico of the Patent Office, "Jeff Davis ought to be hung
twenty times as high as Haman!"
In Nicolay and Hay's Life of Lincoln, the following paragraph follows
comment upon unanimity in Southern and Northern sentiment: "There was one
exception to the general grief too remarkable to be passed over in
silence. Among the extreme Radicals in Congress, Mr. Lincoln's determined
clemency and liberality towards the Southern people had made an impression
so unfavourable that, though they were shocked at his murder, they did
not, among themselves, conceal their gratification that he was no longer
in the way. In a political caucus held a few hours after the President's
death, 'the thought was nearly universal,' to quote the language of one of
their most representative members, 'that the accession of Johnson to the
Presidency would prove a godsend to the country.'"
The only people who could profit by Lincoln's death were in the Radical
wing of the Republican party. These extremists thought Johnson their man.
Senator Wade, heading a committee that waited on him, cried: "Johnson, we
have faith in you! By the gods, it will be no trouble now running the
Government!"
"Treason," said the new President, "is the highest crime in the calendar,
and the full penalty for its commission should be visited upon the leaders
of the Rebellion. Treason should be made odious." It is told as true
"inside history" that the arrest and execution of General Lee had been
determined upon; General Grant heard of it and went in the night to see
President Johnson and Secretary Stanton and said to them: "If General Lee
or any of the officers paroled by me are arrested while keeping the terms
of their parole, I will resign my commission in the United States Army."
But on April 15, even General Grant was of a divided mind, for he wired
General Ord: "Arrest J. A. Campbell, Mayor Mayo, and members of the old
Council who have not yet taken the oath of allegiance, and confine them in
Libby Prison ... arrest all paroled officers and surgeons until they can
be sent beyond our lines unless they have taken the oath of allegiance.
Extreme rigour will have to be observed whilst assassination is the order
of the day with rebels."
General Ord replied: "The two citizens we have seen. They are old, nearly
helpless, and, I think, incapable of harm. Lee and staff are in town among
the paroled prisoners. Should I arrest them under the circumstances, I
think the rebellion here would be reopened. I will risk my life that
present paroles will be kept, if you will allow me to so trust the people
here, who are ignorant of the assassination, done, I think, by some insane
Brutus with but few accomplices. Judge Campbell and Mr. Hunter pressed me
earnestly yesterday to send them to Washington to see the President. Would
they have done so if guilty?"
General Grant answered: "I leave my dispatch of this date in the light of
a suggestion to be executed only as far as you may judge the good of the
service demands." But the venerable peace-maker and his associates were
not to escape vengeance.
General Halleck, from Richmond, to General Grant, May 5: "Hunter is
staying quietly at home, advises all who visit him to support the Union
cause. His hostility to Davis did much to make Davis unpopular in
Virginia. Considering this, and the fact that President Lincoln advised
against arresting Hunter, I would much prefer not to arrest him unless
specially ordered to do so. All classes are taking the Amnesty Oath; it
would be unfortunate to shake by unnecessary arrests this desire for
general amnesty. Lee's officers are taking the oath; even Lee himself is
considering the propriety of doing so and petitioning President Johnson
for pardon."
May 11, Halleck to Stanton: "R. M. T. Hunter has, in accordance with
General Grant's orders, been arrested, and is now on a gunboat in the
James. Judge Campbell is still at his house. If necessary, he can be
confined with Mr. Hunter. He voluntarily submits himself to such
punishment as the Government may see fit to impose. He is very destitute
and much broken down, and his case excites much sympathy."
Fortress Monroe, May 22, General Halleck wires General Ord, Richmond: "The
Secretary of War directs that John A. Campbell be placed in the Libby or
some other secure prison. Do this at once." Announcements of arrivals at
Fort Pulaski in June would have made a fine page for any hotel desiring a
brilliant register, thus: "Ex-Senator R. M. T. Hunter, Virginia;
ex-Assistant Secretary of War Judge J. A. Campbell, Alabama; ex-Senator D.
L. Yulee, Florida; ex-Governor Clark, Mississippi; ex-Secretary of the
Treasury G. A. Trenholm, South Carolina;" and so on. Pulaski had rivals in
other Federal prisons.
A reward of $25,000 for "Extra Billy" did not bring him in, but he
delivered himself up to General Patrick, was paroled, and went to his home
in Warrenton, Fauquier, and set to work with a will, though he was, to
quote General Halleck, "seventy years old and quite feeble." The rightful
Governor of Virginia, he advised her people to cheerful acceptance of
Pierpont.
As soon as the aged Governor of Mississippi learned that General Dick
Taylor would surrender, he convened the Legislature; his message,
recommending the repeal of the secession ordinance and deploring
Lincoln's murder, was not more than read, when General Osband, under
orders from Washington, dissolved the Legislature with threats of arrest.
Governor Clark was arrested: "The old soldier straightened his mangled
limbs as best he could, with great difficulty mounted his crutches, and
with a look of defiance, said: 'General Osband, I denounce before high
Heaven this unparalleled act of tyranny and usurpation. I am the duly and
constitutionally elected Governor of Mississippi, and would resist, if in
my power, to the last extremity the enforcement of your order.'"
[Illustration: LIBBY PRISON, RICHMOND, VA.
Before 1861 this building was used as a warehouse, and in 1888-9 was
transported by a syndicate to Chicago, and is now known as Libby Prison
War Museum.]
Governors, generals and statesmen were arrested in all directions. No
exception was made for Alexander H. Stephens, the invalid, the
peace-maker, the gentlest Roman of them all. At Liberty Hall, Mr. Stephens
and a young friend, Robert W. Hull, were playing casino, when Tim, a
negro, ran in, exclaiming: "Marster, de town is full uh Yankees! Whole
heaps uv 'em, gallopin' all about, carryin' guns." Mr. Stephens rose and
said to his guest: "I have been expecting this. They have come for me.
Excuse me, please, while I pack." He went into his bedroom and began this
task, when an officer called. Mr. Stephens met him in the parlor. The
officer said, "Are you Alex Stephens?" "That is my name." "I have an order
for your arrest." "I would like to have your name and see your order." "I
am Captain Saint, of the 4th Iowa, acting under General Upton's orders.
Here is the order." Mr. Stephens saw that himself and General Toombs were
to be brought before General Upton in Atlanta. "I have been anticipating
arrest," he said quietly, "and have been careful not to be out of the way,
remaining here at home. General Upton need not have sent an armed force
for me. A simple intimation from him that my presence was desired would
have taken me to Atlanta." His negroes were weeping when he was carried
away; one, by special permission, accompanied him.
He was left under guard in a shanty on the road; the troops went on to
Washington, "to be back in a little while with Bob Toombs." "Where is
General Toombs?" asked Mr. Stephens, when they returned. "We don't know,"
was the rejoinder. "He flanked us." Thus:
General Toombs, going to the basement doorway of his house in Washington,
exclaimed suddenly: "My God! the blue-coats!" turned and went rapidly
through his house and out at the back door, saying to his wife: "Detain
them at the front as long as you can." Their daughter, Mrs. Du Bose,
helped her. "Bob Toombs" was asked for. Mrs. Du Bose went to bring "Bob
Toombs"; she reappeared leading a lovely boy. "Here is Bob Toombs," she
said, "Bob Toombs Du Bose, named for my father, General Toombs."
Mrs. Toombs took them through the house, showing them into every
room--keys of which were lost and had to be looked for. They would burn
the building, they insisted, if General Toombs was not produced. "Burn,"
she said, "and burn me in it. If I knew my husband's hiding-place, I would
not betray him." They told her to move her furniture out. She obeyed. They
changed their minds about the burning and went off. General Toombs escaped
to the woods, where he remained hidden until nightfall. His friend,
Captain Charles E. Irvin, got some gold from Mrs. Toombs, and carried the
money to him, together with his mare, Gray Alice. From Nassau Island he
crossed to England, where the doughty "rebel" was mightily liked.
Mr. Davis, Mr. Stephens, Mr. Clay, General Wheeler, and General Ralls met
aboard the steamer at Augusta, all prisoners. The President's arrest
occurred the day before Mr. Stephens', near Irwinsville. Picture it. Gray
dawn in the Georgia woods. A small encampment of tents, horses, and
wagons. Horses saddled and bridled, with pistols in holsters, picketed on
the edge of the encampment. A negro watching and listening. Suddenly, he
hurries to one of the tents: "Mars Jeff!" His call wakes a man lying fully
dressed on one of the cots. "What's the matter, Jim?" "Firin' 'cross de
branch, suh. Jes behin' our camp. Marauders, I reckon."
After leaving Washington, Mr. Davis had heard that marauders were in
pursuit of his wife's cortege, and turning out of his course, he rode hard
across country, found his family, conveyed them beyond the present danger,
as he thought, and was about to renew his journey south. Horses for
himself and staff were ready, when he heard that marauders were again
near; he concluded to wait, and so lay down to rest. At Jim's call, he
went to the tent-door, then turned to where his wife bent over her
sleeping baby, Winnie. "They are not marauders," he said, "but regular
troopers of the United States Army."
She begged him to leave her quickly. His horses and weapons were near the
road down which the cavalry was coming. In the darkness of the tent, he
caught up what he took to be his raglan, a sleeveless, waterproof garment.
It was hers. She, poor soul, threw a shawl over his head. He went out of
the tent, she keeping near. "Halt!" cried a trooper, levelling a carbine
at him. He dropped his wraps and hurried forward. The trooper, in the
dark, might miss aim; a hand under his foot would unhorse him; when Mr.
Davis would mount and away. Mrs. Davis saw the carbine, cast her arms
about her husband, and lost him his one chance of escape.
In one of her trunks, broken open by pilferers of the attacking party, a
hoop-skirt was found. I shall refer to this historic hoop-skirt again.
I left Generals Johnston and Sherman discussing Mr. Lincoln's death and
arranging terms of peace, based upon what Sherman recognized as the object
of the war--salvation of the Union; and upon instructions received from
Mr. Lincoln's own lips in their last interview when the President
authorized him to "assure Governor Vance and the people of North Carolina
that, as soon as the rebel armies will lay down their arms, they will at
once be guaranteed all their rights as citizens of a common country; and
that, to avoid anarchy, the State Governments now in existence will be
recognized."
"When peace does come, you may call upon me for anything. Then, I will
share with you the last crust and watch with you to shield your homes and
families against danger from every quarter." Thus Sherman closed his reply
to Calhoun's protest against the depopulation of Atlanta. Now that war was
over, he was for living up to this.
In soldierly simplicity, he thought he had done an excellent thing in
securing Johnston's guarantee of disbandment of all Confederate forces,
and settling all fear of guerilla warfare by putting out of arms not only
regular Confederates, but any who might claim to be such.
Stanton disposed of the whole matter by ordering Grant to "proceed to the
headquarters of Major-General Sherman and direct operations against the
enemy." This was, of course, the end to any terms for us. As is known,
General Johnston surrendered on the same conditions with Lee. Grant so
ordered his course as not to do Sherman injustice.
General Sherman wrote a spicy letter for Mr. Stanton's benefit: the
settlement he had arranged for would be discussed, he said, in a different
spirit "two or three years hence, after the Government has experimented a
little more in the machinery by which power reaches the scattered people
of this vast country known as the South." He had made war "hell"; now, the
people of "this unhappy country," as he pityingly designated the land he
had devastated, were for peace; and he, than whom none had done more to
bring them to that state of mind, was for giving them some of its fruits.
"We should not drive a people to anarchy"; for protection to life and
property, the South's civil courts and governments should be allowed to
remain in operation.
"The assassination has stampeded the civil authorities," "unnerved them,"
was the conclusion he drew when he went to Washington when, just after the
crime, the long roll had been beaten and the city put under martial law;
public men were still in dread of assassination. At the grand review in
Washington, Sherman, hero of the hour, shook hands with the President and
other dignitaries on the stand, but pointedly failed to accept Mr.
Stanton's.
After Mr. Lincoln's death, leniency to "rebels" was accounted worse than a
weakness. The heavy hand was applauded. It was the fashion to say hard
things of us. It was accounted piety and patriotism to condemn "traitors
and rebels." Cartoonists, poets, and orators, were in clover; here was a
subject on which they could "let themselves out."
THE CHAINING OF JEFFERSON DAVIS