AFTER THE DEATH BLOW WAS DEALT.
Just as dawn broke through the smoke-eddies over the deserted Capital,
the morning after its evacuation, two carriages crept through the empty
streets, toward the fortifications. In them--grave-faced and sad--sat
the Mayor of Richmond and a committee of her council, carrying the
formal surrender to the Federal commander on the northern bank of the
James.
Many a sad, a few terrified, faces peered at them through closed
shutters; but the eager groups about the fires, striving still to
secure scraps from the flames, never paused for a glance at the men who
bore the form of the already accomplished fact.
Before long, eager watchers from Chimborazo Heights saw bluecoats rise
dim over the distant crest. Then came the clatter of cavalry, sabers
drawn and at a trot; still cautiously feeling their way into the
long-coveted stronghold. Behind followed artillery and infantry in
compact column, up the River Road, through Rockett's to Capitol Square.
There they halted; raised the Stars-and-stripes on the staff from which
the Stars-and-bars had floated--often in their very sight--for four
weary, bitter years!
It was a solemn and gloomy march; little resembling the people's idea
of triumphal entry into a captured city. The troops were quiet, showing
little elation; their officers anxious and watchful ever; and dead
silence reigned around them, broken only by the roar and hiss of
flames, or the sharp explosion as they reached some magazine. Not a
cheer broke the stillness; and even the wrangling, half-drunken bummers
round the fires slunk sullenly away; while but few negroes showed their
faces, and those ashen-black from indefinite fear; their great mouths
gaping and white eyes rolling in curious dread that took away their
faculty for noise.
By the time Weitzel's brigade of occupation had been posted--and
several regiments massed on the Capitol--the fire had become general.
Intending only to destroy munitions and supplies of war--the firing
party had been more hasty than discreet. A strong breeze sprang up, off
the river, and warehouse followed warehouse into the line of the
flames. Old, dry and crammed with cotton, or other inflammable
material, these burned like tinder; and at many points, whole blocks
were on fire.
A dense pall of smoke hovered low over the entire city; and through it
shone huge eddies of flames and sparks, carrying great blazing planks
and rafters whirling over the shriveling buildings. Little by little
these drew closer together; and by noon, one vast, livid flame roared
and screamed before the wind, from Tenth street to Rockett's; licking
its red tongue around all in its reach and drawing the hope--the very
life of thousands into its relentless maw!
Should the wind shift, that rapidly-gaining fire would sweep uptown and
devour the whole city; but, while the few men left looked on in
dismayed apathy, deliverance came from the enemy. The regiments in
Capitol Square stacked arms; were formed into fire-squads; and sped at
once to points of danger. Down the deserted streets these marched; now
hidden by eddying smoke--again showing like silhouettes, against the
vivid glare behind them. Once at their points for work, the men went at
it with a will; and--so strong was force of discipline--with no single
attempt at plunder reported!
Military training never had better vindication than on that fearful
day; for its bonds must have been strong indeed, to hold that army,
suddenly in possession of city so coveted--so defiant--so deadly, for
four long years.
Whatever the citizens may vaguely have expected from Grant's army, what
they received from it that day was aid--protection--safety! Demoralized
and distracted by sorrow and imminent danger; with almost every male
absent--with no organization and no means to fight the new and terrible
enemy--the great bulk of Richmond's population might have been
houseless that night, but for the disciplined promptitude of the Union
troops. The men worked with good will; their officers, with ubiquitous
energy. If the fire could not be stayed, at any particular point, a
squad entered each house, bore its contents to a safe distance; and
there a guard was placed over them.
Sad and singular groups were there, too. Richmond's best and tenderest
nurtured women moved among their household gods, hastily piled in the
streets, selecting this or that sacred object, to carry it in their own
hands--where? Poor families, utterly beggared, sat wringing their hands
amid the wreck of what was left, homeless and hopeless; while, here and
there, the shattered remnant of a soldier was borne, on a stretcher in
kindly, if hostile, hands, through clouds of smoke and mourning
relatives to some safer point.
Ever blacker and more dense floated the smoke-pall over the deserted
city; ever louder and more near roared the hungry flames. And
constantly, through all that dreadful day, the _whoo!_ of shells from
magazines, followed by the thud of explosion, cut the dull roar of the
fire. For--whether through negligence or want of time--charged shells
of all sizes had been left in the many ordnance stores when the torch
was applied. These narrow brick chambers--now white hot and with a
furnace-blast through them--swept the heaviest shells like cinders over
the burning district. Rising high in air, with hissing fuses, they
burst at many points, adding new terrors to the infernal scene; and
some of them, borne far beyond the fire's limit, burst over the houses,
tearing and igniting their dry roofs.
Slowly the day, filled with its hideous sights and sounds, wore on; and
slowly the perseverance of man told against the devouring element. The
fire was, at last, kept within its own bounds; then gradually forced
backward, to leave a charred, steaming belt between it and the unharmed
town. Within this, the flames still leaped and writhed and wrangled in
their devilish glee; but Richmond was now comparatively safe, and her
wretched inhabitants might think of food and rest. Little had they
recked of either for many a dread hour past!
The provost-marshal, that unfailing adjunct to every occupation, had
fixed his office at the court-house. There a mixed and singular crowd
waited gloomily, or jostled eagerly, for speech of the autocrat of the
hour. Captured officers stood quietly apart, or peered out earnestly
through the smoke drifts, while their commitments to Libby Prison were
made out; anxious and wan women, of every sphere in life, besieged the
clerk preparing "protection papers;" while a fussy official, of higher
grade, gave assurance to every one that guards should be placed about
their homes. For the deserted women of Richmond dreaded not only the
presence of the victorious enemy, but also that of the drunken and
brutalized "bummers" and deserters who stayed behind their own army.
The guards were really stationed as promptly as was practicable; the
fire-brigade men were sent to quarters; pickets in blue patroled the
outskirts; and, by nightfall, the proud Capital of the Southern
Confederacy was only a Federal barrack!
For two days after their entrance the Union army might have supposed
they had captured a city of the dead. The houses were all tightly
closed, shutters fastened and curtains drawn down; and an occasional
blue-coated sentry in porch, or front yard, was the sole sign of life.
In the streets it was little different. Crowds of soldiers moved
curiously from point to point, large numbers of negroes mixing with
them--anxious to assist their new found brotherhood, but wearing most
awkwardly their vested rights. Here and there a gray jacket would
appear for a moment--the pale and worn face above it watching with
anxious eyes the unused scene; then it would disappear again. This was
all. The Federals had full sweep of the city--with its silent streets
and its still smoking district, charred and blackened; where, for acre
after acre, only fragments of walls remained, and where tall chimney
stacks, gaunt and tottering, pointed to heaven in witness against the
useless sacrifice.
For two days this lasted. The curious soldiers lounged about the silent
town, the burned desert still sent up its clouds of close, fetid smoke;
the ladies of Richmond remained close prisoners. Then necessity drove
them out, to seek food, or some means to obtain it; to visit the sick
left behind; or to make charitable visits to those who might be even
less provided than themselves.
Clad almost invariably in deep mourning--with heavy veils invariably
hiding their faces--the broken-hearted daughters of the Capital moved
like shadows of the past, through the places that were theirs no
longer. There was no ostentation of disdain for their conquerors--no
assumption of horror if they passed a group of Federals--no affected
brushing of the skirt from the contact with the blue. There was only
deep and real dejection--sorrow bearing too heavily on brain and heart
to make an outward show--to even note smaller annoyances that might
else have proved so keen. If forced into collision, or communication,
with the northern officers, ladies were courteous as cold; they made no
parade of hatred, but there was that in their cold dignity which spoke
plainly of impassable barriers.
And, to their credit be it spoken, the soldiers of the North respected
the distress they could but see; the bitterness they could not
misunderstand. They made few approaches toward forcing their
society--even where billeted in the houses of the citizens, keeping
aloof and never intruding on the family circle.
For several days the water-approaches to the city could not be cleared
from the obstructions sunk in them; all railroad communication was
destroyed, and the whole population was dependent upon the slender
support of the wagon trains. Few even of the wealthiest families had
been able to make provision ahead; scarcely any one had either gold, or
greenbacks; and suffering became actual and pinching. Then came the
order that the Federal commissary was to issue rations to those needing
them. Pinching themselves, as they did; preferring to subsist on the
slenderest food that would sustain life, to accepting the charity of
the enemy--many of those suffering women were driven by sheer
hunger--by the threatened starvation of their children, or of the loved
wounded ones near them--to seek the proffered bounty. They forced their
way into the surging, fighting crowd of greasy and tattered negroes, of
dark-faced "bummers" and "loyal" residents--and they received small
rations of cornmeal and codfish; bearing them home to be eaten with
what bitter seasoning they might of tears from pain and humiliation.
The direst destitution of the war had been nothing to this. With their
own people around them, with hope and love to sustain them, the women
of Richmond did not wince under the pinch of want. But now, surrounded
by enemies, with not a pound of flour, or a cent of currency, actual
starvation--as well as humiliation--stared them in the face. The few
who went to draw rations, sat down in blank despair. They _could not_
make up their minds to go again. The fewer still, who had the least
surplus from immediate wants, distributed it freely; and a cup of sugar
from a slender stock was bartered here for a few slices of the hoarded
ham, or a pound or two of necessary meal.
Meantime, sutlers, peddlers and hucksters swarmed in like locusts, on
the very first steamers up the river. They crowded Broad street, the
unburned stores on Main, and even the alleyways, with great piles of
every known thing that could be put up in tin. They had calculated on a
rich harvest; but they had reckoned without their host. There was no
money in Richmond to spend with them; and after a profitless sojourn,
they took up their tin cans, and one by one returned North--certainly
wiser and, possibly, better men. It was peculiar to note the
universality of southern sympathy among these traders. There was
scarcely one among them who didn't think the war "a darned shame;" they
were intensely sympathetic and all came from South of the Pennsylvania
line. But the supporters, either of their principles, or their trade,
were the few lucky negroes who could collect "stamps," in never so
small qualities; and to such the sutlers were a joy forever.
Shut off entirely from any communication with their retreating troops
and mingling so little with their captors, Richmond people got only
most startling and unreliable rumors from the army. Clinging, with the
tenacity of the drowning, to the least straw of hope, they would not
yet give up utterly that army they had looked on so long as
invincible--that cause, which was more than life to them! Though they
knew the country around was filled with deserters and stragglers;
though the Federals had brigades lying round Richmond in perfect
idleness--still for a time the rumor gained credit that General Lee had
turned on his pursuer, at Amelia Court House, and gained a decisive
victory over him. Then came the more positive news that Ewell was cut
off with 13,000 men; and, finally, on the 9th of April, Richmond heard
that Lee had surrendered. Surely as this result should have been looked
forward to--gradually as the popular mind had been led to it--still it
came as a blow of terrific suddenness. The people refused to believe
it--they said it was a Yankee trick; and when the salute of one hundred
guns rang out from forts and shipping, they still said, bitterly, it
was a ruse to make them commit themselves.
Gradually they came to accept the inevitable; and, as the last ray of
hope died out, its place was filled with the intense yearning to know
the fate of those lost and loved ones--to know if they had died at the
bitter ending, or lived to be borne away into captivity. Forgetting
pride, hostility--all but their anxiety for those so precious to them
now--the women caught at every shred of information; questioned
ignorant soldiers eagerly; and listened patiently to the intelligible
news the officers were only too willing to give. And at last these
rumors assumed tangible form--there was no longer any room to doubt.
General Lee, weakened by desertion and breaking down of his men--by
General Ewell's capture and by the sense of hopelessness of further
resistance, had on the morning of the 9th of April, surrendered 24,000
men--including the volunteer citizens, and the naval brigade of all the
Richmond ship's-crews--and with them 8,000 muskets! Such, too, was the
condition of the horses that the Federals refused even to drive them
away from their stands. Little need, indeed, had there been for those
extra brigades around the city.
Then Richmond, sitting like Rachel in her desolation, waited for the
return of her vanquished--heroes still to her. News came of the general
parole; and every sound across the river--every cloud of dust at the
pontoon bridge--was the signal for a rush to doorstep and porch. Days
passed and the women--not realizing the great difficulties of
transportation--grew impatient to clasp their loved ones once more to
their hearts. False outcries were made every hour, only to result in
sickening disappointment and suspense. At last the evening of the third
day came and, just at dusk, a single horseman turned slowly into
deserted Franklin street.
Making no effort to urge his jaded beast, travel-stained and weary
himself, he let the reins fall from his hands and his head droop upon
his chest. It was some time before any one noticed that he wore the
beloved gray--that he was Major B., one of the bravest and most staunch
of the noble youth Richmond had sent out at the first. Like electricity
the knowledge ran from house to house--"Tom B. has come! The army is
coming!"
Windows, doorsteps and curbstones became alive at the words--each woman
had known him from childhood--had known him joyous, and frank, and ever
gay. Each longed to ask for husband, son, or brother; but all held back
as they saw the dropped head, and felt his sorrow too deep to be
disturbed.
At last one fair wife, surrounded by her young children, stepped into
the road and spoke. The ice was broken. The soldier was surrounded;
fair faces quivering with suspense, looked up to his, as soft voices
begged for news of--"somebody's darling;" and tender hands even patted
the starved beast that had borne the hero home! The broad chest heaved
as it would burst, a great sob shook the stalwart frame, and a huge
teardrop rolled down the cheek that had never changed color in the
hottest flashes of the fight. And then the sturdy soldier--conquering
his emotion but with no shame for it--told all he could and lightened
many a heavy heart. And up to his own door they walked by his side,
bareheaded and in the roadway, and there they left him alone to be
folded in the embrace of the mother to whom he still was "glorious in
the dust."
Next morning a small group of horsemen appeared on the further side of
the pontoons. By some strange intuition, it was known that General Lee
was among them, and a crowd collected all along the route he would
take, silent and bareheaded. There was no excitement, no hurrahing;
but, as the great chief passed, a deep, loving murmur, greater than
these, rose from the very hearts of the crowd. Taking off his hat and
simply bowing his head, the man great in adversity passed silently to
his own door; it closed upon him, and his people had seen him for the
last time in his battle harness.
Later others came, by scores and hundreds; many a household was made
glad that could not show a crust for dinner; and then for days Franklin
street lived again. Once more the beloved gray was everywhere, and once
more bright eyes regained a little of their brightness, as they looked
upon it.
Then suddenly the reins were tightened. On the morning of the 14th, the
news of Lincoln's murder fell like a thunderclap upon victor and
vanquished in Richmond. At first the news was not credited; then an
indignant denial swelled up from the universal heart, that it was for
southern vengeance, or that southern men could have sympathy in so vile
an act. The sword and not the dagger was the weapon the South had
proved she could use; and through the length and breadth of the
conquered land was a universal condemnation of the deed.
But the Federal authorities--whether sincere in their belief, or
not--made this the pretext for a thorough change of policy in Richmond.
First came uniform orders, that none of the insignia, or rank marks, of
the South should be worn--a measure peculiarly oppressive to men who
had but one coat. Then came rules about "congregations of rebels," and
three Confederates could not stand a moment on a corner, without
dispersion by a provost-guard.
Finally came the news of Johnston's surrender--of the last blow to the
cause, now lost indeed. Still this fact had been considered a certain
one from the date of Lee's surrender; and it bore none of the crushing
weight that had made them refuse to believe in the latter. Confident as
all were in General Johnston's ability to do all that man might, they
still knew his numerical weakness; that he must ere long be crushed
between the upper and nether millstones. So this news was received with
a sigh, rather than a groan.
There was a momentary hope that the wise covenant between Generals
Johnston and Sherman, as to the basis of the surrender, would be
indorsed by the Government; but the result of its refusal and of the
final surrender on the 13th--was after all little different from what
all had expected. Even the wild and maddened spirits, who refused to
accept Lee's cartel, and started to work their way to Johnston, could
have had no hope of his final success in their calmer moments.
But Johnston's surrender did not lift the yoke from Richmond, in any
degree. Police regulations of the most annoying character were imposed;
the fact of a parole bearing any significance was entirely ignored; no
sort of grace was shown to its possessor, unless he took the oath; and
many men, caught in Richmond at this time and far from home, were
reduced to distress and almost starvation by the refusal of
transportation.
All this the southern people bore with patience. They submitted to all
things but two: they would not take the oath and they would not mix
socially with their conquerors. In that respect the line was as
rigorously drawn in Richmond, at that time, as ever Venice drew it
against the Austrian. Not that any attempt was omitted by the Federals
to overcome what they called this "prejudice." There was music in
Capitol Square, by the best bands of the army, and the ladies were
specially invited by the public prints. Not one went; and the officers
listened to their own music in company with numbers of lusty black
emancipated, who fully felt themselves women and sisters. Next it was
given out that the negroes would not be admitted; but then the officers
listened alone, and finally gave it up. Failing in public, every
effort--short of rudeness and intrusion, which were never resorted
to--was made to effect a social lodgment in private. But no Federal
uniform ever crossed a rebel threshold, in those days, save on
business. The officers occupied parts of many houses; but they were
made to feel that the other part, occupied by the household, was
private still.
Another infliction, harder to bear, was the well-meant intrusion of old
friends from the North. Pleasure parties to Richmond were of constant
occurrence; and for the time quite eclipsed in popularity, with the
Washington idlers, the inevitable pilgrimage to Mt. Vernon. Gaily
dressed and gushing over in the merriment of a party of pleasure, these
visitors often sought out their _ante-bellum_ friends; and then and
there would condone the crime of rebellion to them--sitting in
desolation by the ashes of their household gods. It is not hard to
understand how bitter was proffered forgiveness, to those who never
admitted they could have been wrong; and perhaps the soft answer that
turneth away wrath, was not always given to such zealously officious
friends.
There was little bitterness expressed, however much may have fermented
in the hearts of the captured; and, as a general thing, the people were
grateful for the moderation of the Yankees, and appreciated the good
they had done at the fire. But, deeper than any bitterness could have
sunk, was that ingrained feeling that there were two peoples that these
could never again mingle in former amity, till oil and water might mix.
The men especially--and with much apparent reason--were utterly
hopeless of the future; and, collecting in knots, they would gloomily
discuss the prospect of emigration, as if that were the sole good the
future held. There can be little doubt that had the ability been
theirs, a large majority of the young men of the South would have gone
abroad, to seek their fortunes in new paths and under new skies.
Luckily, for their country, the commander at Richmond failed to keep
his agreement with the paroled officers; and--after making out rolls of
those who would be granted free permission and passage to Canada,
England or South America--those rolls were suddenly annulled and the
whole matter given up. Thus a number of useful, invaluable men who have
ever since fought the good fight against that outrage--the imposition
of negro dominance over her--were saved to the South.
And that good fight, begun in the natural law of self-preservation, has
eventuated to the interests of a common country. For no one who does
not intimately understand the character of the negro--his mental and
moral, as well as his physical, constitution--can begin to comprehend
the sin committed against him, even more than against the white man, by
putting him in the false attitude of equality with, or antagonism to,
the latter.
No one, who did not move among the negroes, immediately after conquest
of the South--and who did not see them with experience-opened eyes--can
approach realization of the pernicious workings of that futile attempt.
Writing upon the inner details of the war and its resulting action upon
the morale of the southern people, omission can not be made of that
large and unfortunate class; driven--first by blind fanaticism, later
by fear of their own party existence--into abnormal condition by the
ultra radicals. The negro rapidly changed; "equality" frittered away
what good instincts he had and developed all the worst, innate with
him. It changed him from a careless and thriftless, but happy and
innocent producer, into a mere consumer, at best; often indeed, into a
besotted and criminal idler, subsisting in part upon Nature's
generosity in supplying cabbage and fish, in part upon the
thoughtlessness of his neighbor in supplying chickens and eggs.
Yet--so powerful is result of habit; on so much foundation of nature is
based the Scythian fable--the negroes of the South, immediately
succeeding the surrender, used the new greatness thrust upon them with
surprising innocence. Laziness, liquor and loud asseverations of
freedom and equality were its only blessings claimed; and the
commission of overt acts, beyond those named, were rare enough to prove
the rule of force of habit. Lured from old service for a time, most of
them followed not far the gaudy and shining Will-o'-the-Wisp; and
almost all--especially the household and personal servants--soon
returned to "Ole Mas'r" once more, sadder and wiser for the futile
chase after freedom's joys. But, even these were partly spoiled and
rendered of far less practical use to themselves, or to their
employers.
The "negro question" to-day is made merely a matter of politics, rather
than one of political economy. At the date of the Confederacy's death,
it is a matter of history.
Gradually--by very slow degrees--people in Richmond--as elsewhere in
the South, further removed from victor's contact--began to grow so far
accustomed to the chains imposed upon them, that they seemed less
unbearably galling. Little by little--forced by the necessities of
themselves and of those still dearer--men went to work at new and
strange occupations; doing not what they would, but what they could, in
the bitter struggle with want for their daily bread. But, spite of
earnest resolve and steady exertion,
"There was little to earn and many to keep--"
and every month it seemed to grow harder and harder to make the bare
means of life. And not alone did the men work--hard and steadily, early
and late. As the women of the South had been the counsellors, the
comforters, the very life of the soldiers when the dark hour was
threatened; so they proved themselves worthy helpmeets now that it had
come.
No privation was too great, no work too unaccustomed for them to
undergo. Little hands that had never held even a needle until the war,
now wrought laboriously at the varied--sometimes even menial--occupations
that the hour demanded. And they worked, as they had borne the war--with
never a murmur; with ever a cheering word for the fellow-laborer beside
them--with a bright trust in the future and that each one's particular
"King should have his own again."
And here the author's task is ended--albeit far from completed; for so
little has been told, where there was so much to tell. But, there was
no longer a Rebel Capital, to offer its inside view; and what followed
the fall--were it not already a twice-told tale--has no place in these
pages. Disjointed sketches, these have perchance told some new, or
interesting, facts. Certes, they have omitted many more, well worth the
telling, noted during those four unparalleled years; but plainly not
compressible, within the limits of one volume.
Happily, the trials, the strain, the suffering of those years remain
with us, but as a memory. That memory is, to the South, a sacred
heritage which unreasoning fanaticism may not dim--which Time, himself,
shall not efface. To the North that memory should be cleared of
prejudice and bitterness, becoming thus a lesson priceless in worth.
Happily, too, the sober second thought of a common people, aided by the
loyalty of the South--to herself and to her plighted faith--has changed
into recemented union of pride and of interest, that outlook from the
crumbled gates of Richmond, which made her people groan in their
hearts:
_Solitudinem faciunt appellantque pacem!_
FINIS.
APPENDIX.
_FIRST AND LAST BLOOD OF THE WAR._
While the battle of Bethel is recorded in the foregoing pages as the
first decided fight of the war between the States, it may leave
erroneous impression not to note the date of "first blood" really shed
in action on southern soil. In the report of the Adjutant-general of
the State of Virginia, for 1866, occurs this entry:
J. Q. Marr, graduated July 4, 1846. Lawyer, Member of the Virginia
Convention. Entered military service as Captain of Virginia
Volunteers, April 1, 1861. Killed at Fairfax Courthouse, Virginia,
May 13, 1861. First blood of the war.
Naturally, many conflicting statements as to the last effective shot of
the long struggle were made and received as true. The most reliable
would appear to be the following, reproduced from a paper printed by
the boys of Mr. Denson's school, in the village of Pittsboro, N.C., in
1866:
The accomplished author of that series of interesting papers, "The
Last Ninety Days of the War in North Carolina," published in _The
Watchman_, New York, states that the last blood of the war was shed
near the Atkins plantation, a few miles from Chapel Hill, on the
14th April, 1865. In a later number of the same paper, a member of
the First Tennessee Cavalry says that it is a mistake; that
companies E and F, of the same regiment to which he belonged,
skirmished sharply with the Federals on the 15th, and claims that
this was the last blood shed. Both are in error; there was a
skirmish near Mt. Zion church, two miles south-east of Pittsboro,
North Carolina, between a body of Wheeler's cavalry and a party of
Federals, on the 17th of April; two Yankees were wounded, and three
others, with several horses, captured. There was other skirmishing
in the neighborhood about this time, and as late as the 29th (two
days after General Johnston surrendered), a squad of Federal
cavalry rode through Pittsboro, firing upon the citizens and
returned soldiers, and receiving their fire in return. These men
were pursued and overtaken near Haw river, where a skirmish
occurred, in which two of the Yankees were killed and two others
wounded, one mortally. This Haw river incident is a familiar and
well authenticated one and most probably it really showed the last
of the long bloodshed.
* * * *
_WHY NO PURSUIT AFTER MANASSAS._
Attention has frequently been drawn to the restiveness of the entire
southern people, under alleged neglect to seize golden opportunities
for pressing the enemy, after Confederate successes. Most frequently
repeated of all these charges, is that which puts upon the shoulders of
Jefferson Davis the onus of delay--and of all resulting evil--after the
first victory on Manassas Plains. This charge receives semi-official
sanction, from ex-Vice-President Stephens; for his history of the war
plainly asserts that to the President was due "the failure of the
Confederate troops to advance after the battle of Manassas." The
following correspondence between the two men most interested in that
mooted question may therefore be read with interest by all candid
thinkers:
RICHMOND, VA., November 3, 1861.
_General J. E. Johnston, Commanding Department of the Potomac:_
SIR: Reports have been and are being widely circulated to the
effect that I prevented General Beauregard from pursuing the enemy
after the battle of Manassas, and had subsequently restrained him
from advancing upon Washington City. Though such statements may
have been made merely for my injury, and in that view their notice
might be postponed to a more convenient season, they have acquired
importance from the fact that they have served to create distrust,
to excite disappointment, and must embarrass the administration in
its further efforts to re-enforce the armies of the Potomac, and
generally to provide for the public defense.
For these public considerations, I call upon you as the commanding
general, and as a party to all the conferences held by me on the
21st and 22d of July, to say whether I obstructed the pursuit of
the enemy after the victory at Manassas, or have ever objected to
an advance or other active operation which it was feasible for the
army to undertake?
Very respectfully yours, etc.,
JEFFERSON DAVIS.
HEADQUARTERS, CENTREVILLE, November 10, 1861.
_To His Excellency, the President:_
SIR: I have had the honor to receive your letter of the 3d instant,
in which you call upon me, as the "Commanding General, and as a
party to all the conferences held by you on the 21st and 22d of
July, to say:
"Whether I obstructed the pursuit after the battle of Manassas.
"Or have ever objected to an advance, or other active operations
which it was feasible for the army to undertake."
To the first question I reply: No. The pursuit was "obstructed" by
the enemy's troops at Centreville, as I have stated in my official
report. In that report I have also said why no advance was made
upon the enemy's capital (for reasons) as follows:
The apparent freshness of the United States troops at Centreville,
which checked our pursuit; the strong forces occupying the works
near Georgetown, Arlington and Alexandria; the certainty, too, that
General Patterson, if needed, would reach Washington with his army
of more than 30,000, sooner than we could; and the condition and
inadequate means of the army in ammunition, provision and
transportation, prevented any serious thoughts of advancing against
the Capital.
To the second question, I reply, that it has never been feasible
for the army to advance further than it has done--to the line of
Fairfax Courthouse, with its advanced posts at Upton's, Munson's
and Mason's Hills. After a conference at Fairfax Courthouse with
the three senior General officers, you announced it to be
impracticable to give this army the strength which those officers
considered necessary to enable it to assume the offensive. Upon
which, I drew it back to its present position.
Most respectfully your obedient servant,
J. E. JOHNSTON.
A true copy:
G. W. C. LEE, Col. and A.D.C.
* * * *
_THE FIRING UNDER THE WHITE FLAG, IN HAMPTON ROADS._
Reference has been made in these pages, to the peculiar circumstances
of the wounding of Flag-Lieutenant Robert D. Minor, in the "Merrimac"
fight on the 8th March, 1862. The official report of Fleet-Captain
Franklin Buchanan distinctly states the facts and formulates the
charge, accepted by the author. From that lengthy and detailed official
document is reproduced verbatim this
EXTRACT FROM REPORT OF FLAG-OFFICER BUCHANAN.
NAVAL HOSPITAL,
NORFOLK, March 27, 1862.
_To Hon. S. R. Mallory, Secretary of the Navy:_
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
While the Virginia was thus engaged in getting her position, for
attacking the Congress, the prisoners state it was believed on
board that ship that we had hauled off; the men left their guns and
gave three cheers. They were soon sadly undeceived, for a few
minutes after we opened upon her again, she having run on shore in
shoal water. The carnage, havoc and dismay, caused by our fire,
compelled them to haul down their colors, and to hoist a white flag
at their gaff half-mast, and another at the main. The crew
instantly took to their boats and landed. Our fire immediately
ceased, and a signal was made for the Beaufort to come within hail.
I then ordered Lieutenant-Commanding Parker to take possession of
the Congress, secure the officers as prisoners, allow the crew to
land, and burn the ship. He ran alongside, received her flag and
surrender, from Commander William Smith and Lieutenant Pendergrast,
with the side-arms of those officers. They delivered themselves as
prisoners of war on board the Beaufort, and afterward were
permitted, at their own request, to return to the Congress, to
assist in removing the wounded to the Beaufort. They never
returned, and I submit to the decision of the Department whether
they are not our prisoners. While the Beaufort and Raleigh were
alongside the Congress, and the surrender of that vessel had been
received from the commander, she having two white flags flying,
hoisted by her own people, a heavy fire was opened upon them from
the shore and from the Congress, killing some valuable officers and
men. Under this fire the steamers left the Congress; but as I was
not informed that any injury had been sustained by those vessels at
that time, Lieutenant-Commanding Parker having failed to report to
me, I took it for granted that my order to him to burn her had been
executed and waited some minutes to see the smoke ascending from
her hatches. During this delay we were still subjected to the heavy
fire from the batteries, which was always promptly returned.
The steam frigates Minnesota and Roanoke, and the sailing frigate
St. Lawrence, had previously been reported as coming from Old
Point; but as I was determined that the Congress should not again
fall into the hands of the enemy, I remarked to that gallant young
officer, Flag-Lieutenant Minor, "that ship must be burned." He
promptly volunteered to take a boat and burn her, and the Teazer,
Lieutenant-Commanding Webb, was ordered to cover the boat.
Lieutenant Minor had scarcely reached within fifty yards of the
Congress, when a deadly fire was opened upon him, wounding him
severely and several of his men. On witnessing this vile treachery,
I instantly recalled the boat and ordered the Congress destroyed by
hot shot and incendiary shell.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
FRANKLIN BUCHANAN, _Flag Officer_.
* * * *
_DEPRECIATION OF CONFEDERATE CURRENCY._
In the chapters on Finance and Dollars and Cents, reference has been
made to the rapid depreciation of C.S. Treasury notes. The condensed
table appended--gathered from most reliable data--will explain this
more clearly than could a volume:
RELATIVE VALUE OF GOLD FROM JANUARY 1, 1861, TO MAY 12, 1865.
1861.--January 1st to May 1st, 5 per cent.; to October 1st, 10 per
cent.; October 15th, 12 per cent.; November 15th, 15 per cent.;
December 1st, 20 per cent.
1862.--January 1st, 20 per cent.; February 1st, 25 per cent.;
February 15th, 40 per cent.; March 1st, 50 per cent.; March 15th,
65 percent.; April 1st, 75 percent.; April 15th, 80 per cent.; May
1st. 90 per cent.; May 15th, 95 per cent.; June 15th, 2 for 1;
August 1st, 2.20 for 1; September 1st, 2.50 for 1.
1863.--February 1st, 3 for 1; February 15th, 3.10 for 1; March 1st,
3.25 for 1; March 15th, 5 for 1; May 15th, 6 for 1; June 1st, 6.50
for 1; June 15th, 7.50 for 1; July 1st, 8 for 1; July 15th, 10 for
1; August 15th, 15 for 1; November 15th, 15.50 for 1; December
15th, 21 for 1.
1864.--March 1st, 26 for 1; April 1st, 19 for 1; May 1st, 20 for 1;
August 15th, 21 for 1; September 15th, 23 for 1; October 15th, 25
for 1; November 15th, 28 for 1; December 1st, 32 for 1; December
31st, 51 for 1.
1865.--January 1st, 60 for 1; February 1st, 50 for 1; April 1st, 70
for 1; April 15th, 80 for 1; April 20th, 100 for 1; April 26th, 200
for 1; April 28th, 500 for 1; April 29th, 800 for 1; April 30th,
1,000 for 1, May 1st (last actual sale of Confederate notes), 1,200
for 1.
* * * *
_GENERAL LEE'S FAREWELL ORDER TO THE ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA._
HEADQUARTERS ARMY NORTHERN VIRGINIA,
April 10, 1865.
GENERAL ORDER, }
NO. 9. }
After four years of arduous service, marked by unsurpassed courage
and fortitude, the Army of Northern Virginia has been compelled to
yield to overwhelming numbers and resources. I need not tell the
brave survivors of so many hard-fought battles, who have remained
steadfast to the last, that I have consented to this result from no
distrust of them; but, feeling that valor and devotion could
accomplish nothing that would compensate for the loss that must
have attended the continuance of the contest, I determined to avoid
the useless sacrifice of those whose past services have endeared
them to their countrymen.
By the terms of agreement, officers and men can return to their
homes and there remain until exchanged. You will take with you the
satisfaction that proceeds from the consciousness of duty well
performed; and I earnestly pray that a merciful God will extend to
you His blessing and protection. With unceasing admiration of your
constancy and devotion to your country and a grateful remembrance
of your kind and generous consideration for myself, I bid you an
affectionate farewell.
R. E. LEE, _General_.
* * * *
_GENERAL JOHNSTON'S FAREWELL ORDER TO THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE._
HEADQUARTERS ARMY TENNESSEE,
Near Greensboro, N.C., April 27, 1865.
GENERAL ORDER, }
NO. 18. }
By the terms of a military convention made on the 26th instant, by
Major-General W. T. Sherman, United States Army, and General J. E.
Johnston, Confederate States Army, the officers and men of this
army are to bind themselves not to take up arms against the United
States until properly relieved from that obligation, and shall
receive guarantees from the United States officers against
molestation by the United States authorities so long as they
observe that obligation and the laws in force where they reside.
For these objects, duplicate muster-rolls will be made out
immediately, and after the distribution of the necessary papers,
the troops will be marched under their officers to their respective
States, and there be disbanded, retaining all private property.
The object of this convention is pacification, to the extent of the
authority of the commanders who made it. Events in Virginia which
broke every hope of success by war, imposed on its general the duty
of sparing the blood of this gallant army and saving our country
from further devastation and our people from ruin.
J. E. JOHNSTON, _General_.
* * * *
_GENERAL SHERMAN'S ORDER ON HIS CONVENTION WITH GENERAL JOHNSTON._
HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
In the Field, Raleigh, N.C., April 27, 1863.
SPECIAL FIELD ORDER, }
NO. 65. }
The General Commanding announces a further suspension of
hostilities and a final agreement with General Johnston, which
terminates the war as to the armies under his command and the
country east of the Chattahoochee.
Copies of the terms of convention will be furnished Major-Generals
Schofield, Gillmore and Wilson, who are specially charged with the
execution of its details in the Department of North Carolina,
Department of the South, and at Macon and Western Georgia.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
General Schofield will procure at once the necessary blanks, and
supply the Army Commanders, that uniformity may prevail; and great
care must be taken that the terms and stipulations on our part be
fulfilled with the most scrupulous fidelity, whilst those imposed
on our hitherto enemies be received in a spirit becoming a brave
and generous army.
Army Commanders may at once loan to the inhabitants such of the
captured mules, horses, wagons and vehicles as can be spared from
immediate use; and the Commanding Generals of Armies may issue
provisions, animals and any public supplies that can be spared, to
relieve present wants and to encourage the inhabitants to renew
their peaceful pursuits, and to restore the relations of friendship
among our fellow-citizens and countrymen.
Foraging will forthwith cease, and, when necessity or long marches
compel the taking of forage, provisions or any kind of private
property, compensation will be made on the spot; or, when the
disbursing officers are not provided with funds, vouchers will be
given in proper form, payable at the nearest Military Depot.
By order of
MAJOR-GENERAL W. T. SHERMAN.
L. M. DAYTON, _Assistant Adjutant-General_.
RECENTLY ISSUED--BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
Juny: or Only One Girl's Story.
271 PAGES. PAPER COVERS. PRICE, 50 CENTS.
Sold by all Dealers; or Mailed (Prepaid), on receipt of Price, by
THE GOSSIP PRINTING CO., Mobile, Ala.
CONDENSED PRESS COMMENT.
"Juny" is a lively story.--[_Cincinnati Enquirer._
A racily written, exciting tale of the South.--[_Portland Argus._
A dramatic story of southern life. It is full of incident.--[_Albany
(N.Y.) Express._
Vividly told, with a beautiful Octoroon as the central figure.--_Harrisburg
Telegram._
Entertaining romance of the "Society crust"--upper and under.--[_Kansas
City Journal_.
More dramatic than "Creole and Puritan;" more genuine fun than "Rock or
the Rye."--[_Augusta News._
Showing varied phases of the great city, in the _salon_, the clubs and
the slums.--[_Syracuse Herald._
It is full of excitement and adventure and, on that score alone, will
prove interesting--[_Evening Wisconsin._
The plot is good; and the author's name sufficient guarantee for
literary excellence.--[_Columbus Despatch._
By a writer who has attained reputation, the romance will prove
interesting reading.--[_San Francisco Call._
A bright, readable story, full of action; the dialects true to life and
the climax artistically managed.--[_Toledo (O.) Bee._
There is much to be commended in "Juny," and the character of the
heroine is certainly well drawn.--[_Town Topics._
The characters are strongly drawn; and the story, sensational and
romantic, has dramatic force.--[_American Stationer._
From the author of "Creole and Puritan" and other stories; and is very
bright and readable.--[_Rochester Post-Express._
Above any Mr. DeLeon has yet written; and can be placed above the best
work of modern times.--[_New Orleans Picayune._
A book of merit. The author shows close acquaintance with Miss
Murfree's dealing with the same class.--[_Minneapolis Journal._
Contains many good situations and some striking types of life, of which
the "Leading Man" is the most comic.--[_The Bookseller._
Most ambitious of this author's works; containing a plot of thrilling
interest and several new American types.--[_Baltimore American._
Cleverly constructed and containing more than one good character. The
reader who begins it will be sure to read it to the close.--[_New York
Sun._
Has been complimented very highly. It is very readable, the characters
strong; and the plot contains many dramatic situations.--[_Savannah
News._
An exceedingly bright and cleverly written story; charmingly told; most
especially felicitous in all that treats of southern character and
life. The old negro is a masterpiece of _genre_ sketching; and the
Louisiana girl and her Octoroon mother are no less clean cut and
graphic. Mr. DeLeon is the promising writer of the South. He knows his
people and region thoroughly.--[_Chicago Times._
A very romantic story. The book is sensational; but the skill with
which the story is told saves it from being ridiculous.--[_San
Francisco Chronicle._
Most successful descriptive and character studies. Animated from the
very first chapter; and once beginning, one can scarcely leave
it.--[_New Orleans Bee._
The sketch of moonshining life in the North Carolina mountains is, to
say the least, clever. The author has made a distinct success in
this.--[_Hartford Post._
The devotion of the old negro for his "chile" and the affection
springing up between her and Wilmot Browne are the features of the
book.--[_North American._
A highly exciting story of life, in widely differing circles. All of
the bad characters are disposed of rapidly, but with a proper eye to
effect.--[_New York Herald._
Just the thing for the car or hammock; a lively novel, introducing many
odd characters in many odd situations of high and low life.--[_Minneapolis
Housekeeper._
Well written and full of "situations," many of them wrought up to a
point of thrilling interest. The many characters are drawn in natural
colors.--[_Brooklyn Citizen._
Mr. DeLeon has written several novels which had a run; but this one
surpasses any in cleverness of plot, thrilling situations and general
interest.--[_Salt Lake Herald._
Brightness of dialogue and richness of incident. The suicide of the
gambler is a startling effect; worthy of the imagination and
descriptive power of Zola!--[_Mobile Register._
The same authority pronounces "the leading man of the Grand Duke's
Opera House" the most original type in comic fiction since we met _Sam
Weller_.--[_Denver Republican._
Some situations, especially those in the slums of the "East Side," are
intensely dramatic. _Juny_ and the characters that surround her are
exceedingly well drawn.--[_Philadelphia Times._
"Juny" is bright and sensational. * * The Mobile novelist is especially
happy in his southern scenes and characters; but his plots have wide
range and embrace high and low life.--[_Atlanta Constitution._
T. C. DeLeon has recommended himself as a writer of talent and power.
His latest work is perhaps his best, as his wit, his dramatic force and
his striking ability for character drawing are all forcibly
exhibited.--[_Columbus (O.) Journal._
We have not read a better story for many a day. Mr. DeLeon has advanced
rapidly to foremost rank among American novelists of the present day.
The plot is skillfully framed and many thrilling, as well as humorous,
situations keep the reader's mind alert.--[_Chicago Herald._
T. C. DeLeon, whose "Rock or the Rye," a clever parody of Amelie Rives,
was a decided success, has added "Juny" to the list of his novels; the
scene changing from a moonshiner's camp to New York, with the heroine a
beautiful Octoroon girl.--[_San Francisco Argonaut._
Southern authors are coming to the front. Among those named more and
more frequently of late is T. C. DeLeon. The story is as full of plot
as it can hold; and if action plays as large a part in fiction, as
Demosthenes averred it did in oratory, "Juny" should be a popular
book.--[_Boston Commonwealth._
Mr. DeLeon's "Creole and Puritan" proved most conclusively that he
could write well; and his satire on the "Quick or the Dead" was laughed
over by the whole country. The story of "Juny" shows the creative power
of the author. It is strong and his descriptive powers have full
sway.--[_New Orleans Picayune._
The old negro and the detective, Mr. Hunter Beagle, seem to have been
taken from life and are carefully elaborated. * * The "Art Evolutionist"
is a very clever portrayal of the creature who is made possible by, and
subsists upon, the _fads_ for which the present century must ever
remain responsible.--[_Courier-Journal._
End of Project Gutenberg's Four Years in Rebel Capitals, by T. C. DeLeon