SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS--POLITICAL HARANGUES--A SUSPECTED
“INCENDIARY”--BIBLE SOCIETY COLPORTEUR IN SCOTT COUNTY.
“When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth:
All may be well; but if God sort it so,
’Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.”
SHAKS., _Richard III_.
The Civil War begun in 1861 had for years its premonitions even in
so retired a portion of the United States as East Tennessee then
was; but they were not understood by the wisest of observers. The
increased alarm among friends of the institution of slavery for its
safety, would alone have been ominous; for strong fear of losing
possessions tempts to rash and violent means of relief. There were
other signs of coming evils:--the growing desire, especially of
politicians in the South who were extremists, not only to preserve
slavery within its existing limits but to fortify its perpetuity by
extending its area; and also the widened direction of an intense and
long-cherished animosity against abolitionists, so as to include
in it all “Yankees” or “the North” in general. These sectional
sentiments were not shared by the great body of East Tennesseeans.
The large majority of them were not slave-holders. Cotton was not
grown in the region, except that a very few farmers had small
“patches” for domestic use. Even where slaves were owned, “the
peculiar institution” most often wore a homely aspect. The negroes
after a patriarchal fashion, were part of one household--the white
and black children played together without fastidious reserve, and
mutual kindly affections prevailed throughout the whole family. In
1860 the slaves were about one-tenth only of the population, and
in over one-third of the counties less than one-seventeenth. The
unlikeness of the mountainous region which is located centrally in
the Atlantic States, to that of the planting States, is positive,
and the dissimilarity in social and other conditions between their
respective inhabitants could scarcely have escaped the observation
of sagacious minds at the period named, when contemplating the
political future. It may have been not without reference to possible
coming emergencies, and to the promotion of sympathy with sectional
sentiments among these mountaineers that one of the “Southern
Commercial Conventions” which were feeders to disunion, was held in
1857 at the central town of East Tennessee. For its population then
was only something over four thousand and its commercial vitality
was small. Conspicuously apparent in the deliberations of that
Convention was a spirit of sectional zeal, which once fairly excited
and diffused, might easily upon opportunity or need be turned into a
political dissolving temper. It would be interesting to know how many
of those who were prominent in that and other “Southern Commercial
Conventions” were also not long afterwards, active in the work of
secession. Of the _lawyers_ who figured in the Knoxville mercantile
assembly was a Virginia “Hotspur.” A few years later he told the
South Carolinians who stood ready, if possible, to dissolve the
Union; “strike a blow and Virginia will go out!” The blow was struck,
Fort Sumter fell, and Virginia went out.
As the _ante-bellum_ decade drew nigh its close, a South Carolina
gentleman of distinction visited the same very interior town.
Currently told, he was father of the saying that “the Yankees know
nothing of government; their only idea of it is that the majority
shall rule.” To this sentiment a ready-witted editor responded,
that its author “differed from the Yankees in but one particular,
his only idea of government being that the minority shall rule.”
This gentleman was of an aristocratic turn of mind. Evidently he
considered the countrymen among whom he dwelt for the time fit
subjects for a study, the precise nature and conclusions of which
others could only conjecture. One day at his hotel he was wrapped in
long and quiet but intent contemplation of the people on the street.
A citizen-friend who had looked on him as he mused, fancied in the
light thrown back on memory by the flames of war shortly afterwards
kindled, that the silent reflections of the stranger had reference to
the impending conflict; not as an emissary from a disaffected State,
much less bent individually upon unfriendly espionage of the land,
but as a political philosopher, forming an estimate of the capacity
of the people before him for sharing in a life and death national
struggle, and weighing in the scales of his judgment the relative
probabilities of their inclining to favor one or the other of the
antagonists in that struggle.
In 1860, late in the canvass for the Presidency of the United States,
a political discussion took place at Knoxville between three of the
candidates for Elector from the State at large: Mr. W. C. Whitthorne
on the Breckenridge ticket, Mr. Nathaniel G. Taylor on the ticket
for Bell, and Mr. Hopkins on that for Douglass. Mr. Whitthorne spoke
respectably well. Mr. Taylor was truly eloquent. His description of
the civil war, which he declared the friends of Mr. Breckenridge
were contriving to bring upon the country in the event of their
party being defeated and the Republican candidate’s election to the
Presidency, was vivid and powerful. Few, if any, of his hearers,
however, had a real expectation that the calamity he so graphically
depicted would shortly befall the land. He said that the people of
East Tennessee were “determined to maintain the Union by force of
arms against any movement from the South throughout their region of
country to assail the Government at Washington with violence, and
that the secessionists of the cotton States in attempting to carry
out their nefarious design to destroy the Republic, would have to
march over his dead body and the dead bodies of thousands of East
Tennessee mountaineers slain in battle.”
The speech of Mr. Hopkins was lucid and logical, and reflected
much credit upon his skill and power in debate. His antagonism was
especially to the followers of Mr. Breckenridge as the authors of a
ruinous breach in the unity of the Democratic party that had so long
ruled the nation and dispensed its offices and emoluments.
Shortly before the Presidential election in the autumn of 1860,
William L. Yancey of Alabama, came to Knoxville by pre-arrangement
with resident extremists on the subject of “Southern rights,” and
spoke to a popular assembly in the open air. He labored to show that
the South did not receive justice at the hands of the North, that the
negro was never intended by the Federal Constitution and its authors
as anything more than property, that it was the interest of the white
man of the South to perpetuate slavery, because it gave the South a
political power in Congress it would not otherwise have, and also for
other reasons which he stated.
Among those who then heard him for the first time some were
disappointed that they did not find in him the able orator whom Fame
had heralded. His voice, without being disagreeable, had no special
good qualities, and was too monotonous of tone. He showed, however,
great earnestness, and now and then rose to eloquence. Evidently he
had a quick, high and imperious temper, a bold and determined will,
superior readiness and skill in debate, and the disposition to
domineer over opponents. His determination seemed to be not to heal
existing dissensions but to maintain by strife the South’s rival
powder in the nation.
His speech was not well received by many of those who heard it.
At one time being rudely interrupted by a man in the crowd, he
peremptorily silenced the intruder. Before concluding his discourse,
a note was handed to him. Having read it, he asked the writer to
come upon the platform. The note conveyed a desire to know, if, in
the event of Mr. Lincoln’s election to the Presidency, Mr. Yancey
would favor the secession of the Southern States from the Union
and forcible resistance to the Federal Government? The person so
unexpectedly elevated to the side of the orator was Mr. Maney, from
Pennsylvania, but for some years a citizen of Tennessee; endowed
with much good sense, large acquaintance with public affairs and
considerable readiness of speech. A brief colloquy ensued, in
which Mr. Yancey endeavored without success to bring Mr. Maney
into ridicule. At length it came to light that the latter was the
representative of others in the assembly whose names were signed to
the note, and which were then called aloud by Mr. Yancey, with a
request that the persons bearing them should ascend to the platform.
They complied accordingly: Rev. William G. Brownlow, Judge Samuel R.
Rodgers, O. P. Temple, John M. Fleming, and Wm. R. Rodgers, M.D.
The orator proceeded to read an extract from a published speech or
letter of the Hon. John Bell of Tennessee, declaring his mind as
to the course of conduct the slave States ought to adopt, should
Mr. Lincoln be elected. He then desired to know severally from the
gentlemen before him, whether they endorsed Mr. Bell’s sentiments?
Mr. Temple answered that he approved them, if the words in which they
were expressed were taken with their context and rightly interpreted:
at the same time adding, that in his own opinion, any forcible
resistance to the Federal Government would be improper. Of like
purport in general, was the reply made by each of his companions,
except that of Mr. Brownlow. When called on to answer he said “that
not only would he refuse to join in any secession or armed opposition
to the authority of the National Government because of Mr. Lincoln’s
election, but that any body of men attempting to march on Washington
City with hostile purpose through East Tennessee, would find there
thousands of men ready to prevent them by force of arms. Among those
defenders of the Union, he,” Mr. Brownlow, “would take his stand,
and that over their dead bodies they who sought to overthrow the
Government would have to make their way.”
Mr. Yancey replied. He gave it as his opinion that the statement from
Mr. Bell that had been read, favored the idea of resistance under
certain circumstances. Declining to answer at once and in few words
the inquiry first propounded, he went into a historical statement of
the question of secession as it had been agitated in Alabama, and
of his connection with it. Finally he said, that as a loyal son of
that State, he would abide by its decision in the case and go as it
might go. “As for this man,” he said, turning to Mr. Brownlow, “who
talks of confronting the sons of the South in a contest for their
rights, with the armed opposition of East Tennesseeans,--if his
(Mr. Yancey’s) State determined upon resistance, he would meet Mr.
Brownlow in the bloody strife, and” making a violent gesture towards
Mr. B.’s person, “would give him the bayonet up to the muzzle.” At
this utterance and action, a strong sensation passed through the
assembly. The orator went on to reproach his opponent, that being
by profession a minister of the Gospel, he should be a fomenter
of strife, and counseled him to amend his conduct. Mr. Brownlow
replied in his peculiar style with pungent words, and soon the people
dispersed.
The Alabamian’s friends seemed to be jubilant over the victory they
claimed to have won in the wordy encounter. The other party were less
demonstrative but more determined than before, and were moved to
various degrees of wrath by the disunion sentiments to which they had
listened. Some, while stirred to indignation by the sentiments, which
they considered atrocious, and at the speaker’s audacity in uttering
them, had yet a feeling of regret that their own champions were
put on the platform at disadvantage; had been subjected in turn to
questioning by their adversary, as witnesses might be in court by an
adroit attorney; and were compelled to relative silence, while he, on
the point at issue, fully delivered his mind with an air of triumph
to the exhilaration of his friends.
When the result of the Presidential election was known, the political
excitement greatly increased. There had been no electoral ticket in
Tennessee for the Republican candidates: and had any citizen of the
State openly advocated Mr. Lincoln’s election, he would have had to
suffer indignity and injury, or to flee from his home. The general
public sentiment was hostile to the Republican party and at the same
time friendly to the continuance of slavery where it existed, without
interference from abroad. As between secession and the preservation
of the Union, opinions differed both in kind and degree of strength.
A single incident will illustrate the situation:
A citizen of Ohio, selling fruit-tree scions arrived at Knoxville
from Asheville, North Carolina. He was closely followed by the
newspaper of that village, fixing strong suspicion upon him from
slight evidence, as a peregrinating Abolitionist with a sinister
purpose. Meanwhile he with his chattels personal, had found temporary
lodgment on the Deaf and Dumb Asylum grounds. Some medical students
at Philadelphia from Mississippi and Alabama, influenced by political
fervor, when the work of secession began, incontinently abandoned
their professional studies, and departed homewards. Arriving at
Knoxville on their way, and hearing of the alleged anti-slavery
Ohioan, they went without delay and demanded his expulsion from the
community. But because of the Asylum’s Principal, they failed in
their errand, and as rumor told, were humorously rebuked by him for
their impertinent wrath and intolerance.
Their visit was soon succeeded by one of more formidable proportions
from indignant citizens, with a local office-holder of the United
States at their head. The suspected political “incendiary” was
arrested and led a prisoner to the court-house. There excited people
gathered, until the room was filled to its utmost capacity. Nor could
this fact justly occasion surprise. Slaves bore the fatal stigma in
public estimation, generally, of being not _persons_, but _things_.
Their classification therefore, in common with houses, goods and
whatever else could, like them, be bought and sold, was under the
head of property. And any alarm raised that peaceful possession of
them was endangered, naturally enough assembled a crowd. A citizen,
attracted to the meeting by its understood object, entered the
court-room, as Parson Brownlow in concluding a speech, gave no
opinion _pro_ or _con_ about the stranger, but advised the people to
watch, for that fomenters of trouble with the negroes were abroad in
the country.
Afterwards, the committee of citizens appointed to consider and
determine the extent of grievance inflicted upon the community and
what should be its redress, reported through its chairman,--who
had led in making the arrest,--that the stranger was guilty of
Abolitionism and should be ordered to leave the town which his
presence put in danger. But further proceedings in the direct line
of a vote upon the proposition, were halted by the courageous
interposition of the Deaf Mutes’ Asylum Principal in behalf of the
prisoner, with whom he had conversed, and who, he averred, was not an
extreme and dangerous anti-slavery man. This reduction of the guilt
of the accused, was promptly and hotly resented by the committee’s
chairman as a denial of his personal veracity, not to be borne. The
Principal, without disputing the logical sequence of that deduction,
stoutly maintained the truth of his statement, and an altercation
ensued that threatened to end in a general row. The assembly became
tumultuous. Men ready for fight with sticks and pistols sprang upon
the platform, where stood the disputants, between whom a third
person, urged on by others, had interposed himself and essayed
to speak. But he could not be heard because of the great clamor,
accompanied by violent gesticulations, of the assembly. At length a
few words from the _tertium quid_, minimizing the difficulty into a
mere difference of opinion between two gentlemen, were listened to,
and the excitement subsided.
As for the troubled Ohioan, he “stood not upon the order of his
going” from a locality inhospitable and dangerous to strangers who
felt free to say that they did not find their Bibles and human
slavery altogether harmonious. It is to this day, however, an
unsolved question, whether as he went, righteous indignation at the
treatment he had received or sincere joy at his escape from worse
ills, prevailed in his soul.
The mental agitations of people living in towns and in less remote
parts of the country, caused by the work of secession as it
progressed, were painfully shared by many older and conservative
persons. They could not bear the thought of a dissolution of the
Union, and in some instances were moved by it to tears, alternating
with anger. As the possibility of so dire an event grew in their
apprehensions, they shrank back from witnessing its occurrence, as
one might do from looking on at the death of a beloved kinsman.[16]
But the dwellers in the more mountainous parts of East Tennessee,
“far from the madding crowd,” were comparatively free from all such
agitations and griefs.
In the autumn of 1860 a Colporteur of the Knoxville Bible Society[17]
distributed the Book among the people of Scott County, Tennessee,
a very elevated region near the Kentucky border line. On returning
home, he made a report of his labors to Mr. C.,--Depositary of the
society,--who greatly deplored the possible destruction of the Union.
The Colporteur soon afterwards met another Unionist, and said:
“Do you know that Mr. C. is going to Scott County to live?” The
other, knowing Mr. C. to be a person of wealth, who would by such an
exchange lose comfortable surroundings, answered:
“No! how is that?”
“O,” said the Colporteur, “I told him that I asked the people over
in Scott County ‘how were times with them,’ and they said, ‘not very
good.’ I inquired if that was because of the troubles in the country?
They asked, ‘what troubles?’ I said: ‘Troubles to the Union. Haven’t
you heard that South Carolina has seceded?’ They answered, ‘no!’”
“Now,” the Colporteur added, “I told this to Mr. C. and he says he is
going to Scott County to live: for if the Union should be dissolved,
_he will never hear of it over there_.”