Visit to Grant's Head-quarters.--His Anecdotes of Army Life.--Banks
relieved.--Canby in Command.--Bailey at Mobile.--Death of
Bailey.--Canby as a Civil Governor.--Confiscated Property.--Proposes
to rebuild Levees.--Is stopped by Sheridan.--Canby appeals.--Is
sustained, but too late.--Levees destroyed by Floods.--Conflict
of Jurisdiction.--Action of President Johnson.--Sheridan abolishes
Canby's Provost Marshal's Department.--Canby asks to be recalled.--Is
ordered to Washington.--To Galveston.--To Richmond.--To
Charleston.--Is murdered by the Modocs.--His Character.
Shortly after my arrival at the North, I paid a visit of a few days
to Colonel Badeau at Grant's head-quarters at City Point. Badeau
had been with me on Sherman's staff. I staid at head-quarters in a
tent reserved for guests, and messed with the general and his staff.
Grant has the reputation of being a taciturn man, and he is generally
so. But when seated on a summer's evening under the awning in front
of his tent with his staff, and, perhaps, a few friends about him,
he took his share of the conversation. He was full of anecdote,
especially of army life. He talked very freely, not hesitating to
express his opinions of men and things. Grant contended that no
commanding officer could succeed in the long run, if he were not an
honest and an honorable man. He did not care what were his talents,
he was sure to come to grief, and injure the cause sooner or later.
But Butler took different ground. He held that he could appoint
clever and energetic officers to command, and benefit by their
talents, while he could prevent their dishonesty from injuring the
cause. Grant was undoubtedly right, and Butler wrong.
One evening, as we sat before his tent, Grant observed that he had
that day sent orders to remove a certain general from high command
in the West. I expressed my surprise, and said that I had always
understood, and from army men too, that the officer in question was
one of the best of our volunteer generals. Grant took his cigar from
his mouth, and remarked, in his quiet way, "He's too much mixed up
with cotton."
Politics makes strange bed-fellows. What a pity that President
Grant was unable to carry into his civil appointments the same
admirable principle upon which General Grant acted so inflexibly
and so successfully in his military appointments! The officer whom
he removed from command as "too much mixed up with cotton" he soon
after appointed, under strong party pressure, to high civil office.
On my return to New Orleans, I found that Banks had been relieved,
and Canby now commanded the Department of the Gulf. He was absent,
engaged in the campaign against Mobile, which resulted in the capture
of that city. Here Bailey again distinguished himself. The bay was
strewed with torpedoes. Bailey had no fear of torpedoes. He told me
that he had often navigated the Upper Mississippi when enormous cakes
of ice, swept along by the rapid current, threatened to destroy the
boat, but that it was easy enough by some mechanical contrivance to
avoid them. He thought that torpedoes might be treated in the same
way. He showed his faith by his works. He took the quartermaster's
boats up without accident. The navy followed his lead, and safely.
But the Admiral, changing his mind, ordered some of the boats back.
In backing down, two were blown up and sunk.
But the war was now near its close. Bailey was shortly afterward
mustered out of service, and returned to civil life. He removed from
Wisconsin to Missouri, and settled in one of the border counties.
Here he was elected sheriff. His end was a sad one. With his usual
daring, he attempted to arrest two noted desperadoes, horse-thieves,
single-handed. They murdered him. He had not lived in vain. He had
rendered good service to his country.
To return to Louisiana. The writer was now promoted to General
Canby's staff, and became adjutant-general of the Department. Canby
enjoyed the full confidence of the Government, and most justly.
He had an exceedingly important command, extending from St. Louis
to the Gulf, and from Florida to Texas. We had one hundred and
eighty-seven thousand men upon our rolls. Canby was an excellent
military commander, but his forte lay in civil government. Never
was a Department better governed than was Louisiana in his day. A
kind-hearted, benevolent gentleman, he gave one half of his pay
to the rebel poor. Often have I seen his wife driving about New
Orleans, accompanied by a Sister of Charity, dispensing his bounty. A
clear-headed, just man, he governed that turbulent city with wisdom
and justice, and with unflinching firmness. There were no riots in
his day. More than once we were told that a riot was planned for
the next day. Canby sent for Sherman; that night a battery would be
quietly marched up from Jackson Barracks, and stationed out of sight
in a cotton-press. Very early in the morning a company of cavalry
picketed their horses in Esplanade Street. The quiet citizens saw
nothing unusual, but the would-be rioters of course knew what had
been done, and there was no riot. Canby was relieved; Sherman got
leave of absence; and within a month a riot took place.
General Canby has saved millions of money to the United States. In
these days of barefaced raids upon the Treasury, under color of bogus
Southern claims, Canby's foresight and care are brought out in strong
relief. When the war was ended, he returned all confiscated rebel
property to its owners, but he took from them a release to the United
States for all claim for rent or damage during our occupation. These
men's mouths are now closed. The only exception he made was made
most reluctantly under the orders of Sheridan. That great soldier
does not shine in civil government as he does in the field. When he
arrived in New Orleans, he told General Canby that he came there to
take military command; that as for civil matters he knew nothing
about them, and left them all to Canby. Before a month had passed
an order came that General Canby would please report why he did not
return the Metairie Ridge Race-course to its owners. This course was
owned by gamblers. The gamblers of New Orleans are an institution
and a power in that city. Canby replied with the indorsement,
"Respectfully returned with a copy of the order bearing date (a month
back) returning the Metairie Ridge Racecourse to its owners on the
usual conditions." The order came back, "General Canby will return
the Metairie Ridge Race-course without condition." Canby felt deeply
hurt. His carefully devised and impartially executed plan to protect
the Treasury had been frustrated, and this in favor of a lot of
gamblers. I do not doubt that these men are now before Congress as
"loyal citizens," with their humble petition for reimbursement for
the occupation of the race-course and the destruction of the fences.
Had Canby been permitted to have his own way, the levees in Louisiana
would have been rebuilt in the fall of 1865, millions of money saved
to the United States, and much suffering and vagabondage among the
inhabitants avoided. In 1862 Butler had confiscated the crops on many
abandoned estates. This property, when sold, realized a fund which
was turned over to the successive Department commanders, to be used
for various public purposes. Banks gave a monster concert, with
artillery accompaniments, out of it, and balls, to dance the fair
Creoles into loyalty. Canby proposed to rebuild the levees. In his
day the fund amounted to about eight hundred thousand dollars. He
thought that this money, raised in Louisiana, could with propriety be
expended in repairing the levees in Louisiana. He said expressly that
the rebels had no right to this expenditure--as they had sown, so
must they reap; but that it was in the interest of the United States
and of humanity that he proposed to rebuild the levees. That if this
were done, the people would be occupied, contented, and quiet, they
would be no expense to the Government, and their crops would add to
the general wealth of the country. That if it were not done, the
plantations would be overflowed, the crops ruined, the inhabitants
discontented, the value of the crops lost to the country, and the
United States compelled, as a matter of humanity, to issue rations to
the starving people. In the month of October, 1865, every thing was
ready, the unemployed negroes enrolled, our negro regiments detailed,
and the work about to commence, when it was stopped by an order from
General Sheridan. Of course Sheridan did not do this from any mere
caprice. He had his reasons, and to his mind they were conclusive.
But they were purely technical and narrow. He said that the fund
referred to did not belong to the Department; that it belonged to
the Treasury, or at least to the Quartermaster-general, and could
not be used without his assent. Canby was always most reluctant to
appeal from his superior officer to higher authority, but he thought
that in this instance the interests of his Department, and those of
the United States itself, were too deeply involved for him to accept
Sheridan's decision. He appealed to Washington, and was sustained.
But the Government, instead of ordering him to commence the work at
once, sent out a board of engineers--Barnard at the head--to survey
the levees, and agree upon plans for repairing them. At length all
these most unnecessary formalities were got through with, and Canby
was ordered to proceed with the work. This was promptly done. But
it was now January, instead of October. In February the water rose,
and swept away all that had been done. All the evils predicted by
Canby now came upon the country. And not for that year only, but for
several succeeding years, the Government was compelled to feed a
suffering, discontented, and turbulent population.
Several nice and novel legal questions arose on the termination
of the war in reference to confiscated property. These were
determined by General Canby so wisely and so justly that the
Quartermaster-general not unfrequently sent to him for copies of
his orders as guides for the Department at Washington in its own
decisions. I recollect one question particularly, which brought
him into conflict with the United States District Judge. It will
be remembered that at the close of the war an immense quantity of
cotton was found stored in the by-ways of the Confederacy, especially
far up the Red River. Part of this cotton was undoubtedly liable to
confiscation, but the greater part was not. Treasury agents thronged
all over the South. The character of these men "left much to be
desired," as the Frenchman politely puts it. They were "on the make."
Their object was to prove all cotton liable to confiscation, for
the law gave them a large percentage of the proceeds. The amount of
perjury committed by these men, and by the professional perjurers
whom they employed, was fearful. The effect was demoralizing to the
last degree, and exasperated the inhabitants; while it was the object
of the Government, and the earnest desire of the victorious North,
to pacify the South by dealing not only justly, but generously, by
it. Canby felt this, and with his usual sagacity and foresight made
a proposition to the Secretary of the Treasury, which, if adopted,
would have saved the Government millions in money, and more than
millions in peace and good-will. He proposed that ports should be
designated on the Mississippi for the receipt of cotton; that every
pound arriving there should pay the Government twenty-five cents, or
fifty cents (any thing that the Government might designate), and that
no questions should be asked as to its origin. Mr. M'Culloch replied
that it was an admirable plan, but that there were reasons why it
could not be adopted. The reason, I fear, was the influence brought
to bear at Washington by the nascent race of carpet-baggers. There
was money in the Treasury-agent system.
This system led, as I have said, to a collision between the military
and the judicial authorities in New Orleans, which in any other
hands than Canby's might have been serious. M'Culloch wrote to the
general asking him to sustain his agents with the military power in
their seizure of cotton. Canby of course replied that he would do
so. Shortly afterward an agent applied to us for a military force.
He had seized a lot of cotton, and brought it to New Orleans. The
owner, an alleged Union man, had applied to the United States
District Court, and the United States Marshal had been ordered to
take possession of it. He attempted to do so, but was, of course,
repulsed by the military, the city being still under martial law. The
judge thereupon issued an order for Canby to appear before him, and
show cause why he held the cotton against the process of the court.
The order was an impertinent one; for the judge knew well enough
that the city was still under martial law. The judge was that Durell
who afterward came to grief. But Canby always showed the greatest
respect to the judiciary. I remember, as if it were yesterday,
seeing him start for the court-room at the appointed time, in full
uniform, accompanied by Major De Witt Clinton, his judge-advocate.
His return to the order of the court was to my mind conclusive. He
said, substantially, that the United States District Court was a
creation of the law; that it possessed precisely those powers which
had been conferred upon it by Congress, and no others; that if this
cotton had been captured by the navy on the high seas, he should have
surrendered it at once on the order of the judge, for the court was
clothed with admiralty jurisdiction, but that it had no military
jurisdiction, and that he had no right to surrender, and might be
held responsible for surrendering, powers which, under martial law,
were vested in him alone. The judge reserved his decision. The
claimant's lawyers telegraphed to the President; and Johnson, who was
then beginning to coquet with the Democrats, contrary to Stanton's
advice, and without waiting for Canby's report, ordered the cotton to
be given up, to the general's great satisfaction; for it soiled the
fingers of every one who touched it.
General Canby had now been thwarted twice by General Sheridan in
purely civil matters--matters belonging properly to the commander of
the Department. He felt as if his usefulness were gone, and prepared
a letter to the Adjutant-general asking to be relieved from his
command, and ordered elsewhere. He showed me this letter. I felt that
his loss to the Department would be irreparable, and I persuaded
him to withhold it. But shortly afterward Sheridan again interfered
with the civil government of the city, and this time by breaking up
the provost-marshal's department of General Canby's own staff. It is
a matter of great delicacy for one general to interfere with the
staff of another. Canby felt deeply hurt, and told me that he should
forward his letter to Washington. Of course I could no longer object;
for it seemed to me that self-respect left him no choice. He was
relieved at once, for he was all-powerful with Stanton, who had the
highest esteem and regard for him, and unbounded confidence in his
integrity and wisdom. He was made president of a most important board
on war claims, sitting at Washington. But shortly afterward there was
disturbance in Texas, and Canby was immediately sent there. Again,
there was disturbance in Virginia, and Canby was transferred to
Richmond. Then came difficulty in South Carolina, and at once Canby
was ordered to Charleston. Wherever he went, order and tranquillity
followed his footsteps.
This wise, great, and good man lost his life miserably. He fell a
victim to the Peace Commission. He commanded the Department in which
Captain Jack and those wretched Modocs gave us so much trouble.
Although the force operating against the Indians numbered but five
hundred men, and the weather was so severe that the ink froze in
his tent, Canby thought it his duty to go in person to the "Lava
Beds." Here he was rapidly unearthing the savages from "their caves
and dens in the rocks," when the Peace Commission begged him to send
the Indians a flag of truce and invite them to a "talk." He replied
that it was useless; that he knew the Indians far better than those
gentlemen could; and that the best and most humane method was to
follow up his military advantages. They entreated, and appealed to
his love of peace. He yielded, went unarmed and without escort to the
conference, and was murdered by the savages. Thus died one of the
best, ablest, and purest men the war had brought to the front.
The writer left Louisiana in June, 1866, and shortly afterward, on
his own request, was mustered out of the service. He looks back with
pleasure to the years passed in that lovely and fruitful land. He
regrets the evil days which have fallen upon it, and can not but
think that the upright and honorable men whom he knew there--and
there are plenty of them among its inhabitants--must regret the loss
of the rule of justice, law, order, and economy under Canby, when
they contrast it with the infamous rule of the carpet-baggers--fraud
and corruption on one side met by violence and intimidation on the
other.