Soon after dark the commissaries, having loaded all the army wagons

with supplies, began the destruction of what they could not carry

away. In the medical purveyor's department were several hundred

barrels of whiskey, which were rolled into the street and stove in by

soldiers with axes. As the liquor ran down the gutter, officers and

soldiers filled their flasks and canteens, while those who had no

canteen threw themselves upon the ground and drank from the fiery

stream. The rabble with pitchers, basins, dipped it up and drank as if

it were the wine of life. The liquor soon began to show its effects.

The crowd became a mob, and rushed upon the stores and government

warehouses. The soldiers on guard at first kept them at bay, but as

the darkness deepened the whiskey-maddened crowd became more furious.

By midnight there was a grand saturnalia. The flour in the government

stores was seized. Men were seen rolling hogsheads of bacon through

the streets. Women filled their aprons with meal, their arms with

candles. Later in the night the floating _debris_ of the army reached

the city,--the teamsters, servants, ambulance-drivers, with stragglers

from the ranks, who pillaged the stores. First attacking the clothing,

boot, and hat stores, then the jewellers' shops and the saloons, and

lastly the dry-goods establishments. Costly panes of glass were

shivered by the butts of their muskets, and the reckless crowd poured

in to seize whatever for the moment pleased their fancy, to be thrown

aside the next instant for something more attractive.

"As I passed the old market-house," writes a Rebel soldier, "I met a

tall fellow with both arms full of sticks of candy, dropping part of

his sweet burden at every step."

"Stranger," said he, "have you got a sweet tooth?"

"I told him that I did not object to candy."

"Then go up to Antoni's and get your belly full, and all for nothing."

"A citizen passed me with an armful of hats and caps. 'It is every man

for himself and the Devil for us all to-night,' he said, as he rushed

past me."[97]

[Footnote 97: A Rebel Courier's Experience.]

The train which bore Jeff Davis from the city left at eight o'clock in

the evening. He took his horses and coach on board for a flight across

the country, in case Sheridan stopped the cars. He was greatly

depressed in spirits, and his countenance was haggard and care-worn.

At the station there was a crowd of men who had fawned upon

him,--office-holders, legislators, and public-spirited citizens who

had made great sacrifices for the Rebellion,--who, now that they

wished to obtain standing room upon the train, found themselves rudely

thrust aside by the orders of the President. They were of no more

account than the rest of the excited populace that knew Davis but to

execrate him.

In the Sabbath evening twilight, the train, with the fugitive

government, its stolen bullion, and its Doctors of Divinity on board,

moved out from the city.

At the same hour the Governor of Virginia, William Smith, and the

Legislature, embarked in a canal-boat, on the James River and Kanawha

Canal, for Lynchburg. On all the roads were men, women, and children,

in carriages of every description, with multitudes on horseback and on

foot, flying from the Rebel capital. Men who could not get away were

secretly at work, during those night-hours, burying plate and money in

gardens; ladies secreted their jewels, barred and bolted their doors,

and passed a sleepless night, fearful of the morrow, which would bring

in the despised "Vandal horde of Yankee ruffians"; for such were the

epithets they had persistently applied to the soldiers of the Union

throughout the war.

But the government was not quite through with its operations in

Richmond. General Ewell remained till daylight on Monday morning to

clear up things,--not to burn public archives in order to destroy

evidence of Confederate villany, but to add to the crime already

committed another so atrocious that the stanchest friends of the

Confederacy recoiled with horror even from its contemplation.

It was past midnight when the Mayor learned that Ewell had issued

orders for firing the government buildings and the tobacco warehouses.

He sent a deputation of prominent citizens to remonstrate. They were

referred to Major Melton, who was to apply the torch.

"It is a cowardly pretext on the part of the citizens, trumped up to

save their property for the Yankees," said he.

The committee endeavored to dissuade him from the act.

"I shall execute my orders," said he.

They went to General Ewell, who with an oath informed them that the

torch would be applied at daylight. Breckenridge was there, who said

that it would be a disgrace to the Confederate government to endanger

the destruction of the entire city. He was Secretary of War, and could

have countermanded the order. Will not history hold him accountable?

To prevent the United States from obtaining possession of a few

thousand hogsheads of tobacco, a thousand houses were destroyed by

fire, the heart of the city burnt out,--all of the business portion,

all the banks and insurance-offices, half of the newspapers, with

mills, depots, bridges, founderies, workshops, dwellings,

churches,--thirty squares in all, swept clean by the devouring flames.

It was the final work of the Confederate government. Inaugurated in

heat and passion, carried on by hate and prejudice, its end was but in

keeping with its career,--the total disregard of the rights of person

and property.

In the outskirts of the city, on the Mechanicsville road, was the

almshouse, filled with the lame, the blind, the halt, poor, sick,

bed-ridden creatures. Ten rods distant was a magazine containing

fifteen or twenty kegs of powder, which might have been rolled into

the creek near at hand, and was of little value to a victorious army

with full supplies of ammunition; but the order of Jeff Davis to blow

up the magazines was peremptory and must be executed.

"We give you fifteen minutes to get out of the way," was the sole

notice to that crowd of helpless beings lying in their cots, at three

o'clock in the morning. Men and women begged for mercy; but their

cries were in vain. The officer in charge of the matter was

inexorable. Clotheless and shoeless, the inmates ran in terror from

the spot to seek shelter in the ravines; but those who could not run

while the train to fire it was being laid, rent the air with shrieks

of agony. The match was applied at the time. The concussion crushed in

the broad side of the house as if it had been pasteboard. Windows flew

into flinders. Bricks, stones, timbers, beams, and boards were whirled

through the air. Trees were twisted off like withes in the hands of a

giant. The city was wrenched and rocked as by a volcanic convulsion.

The dozen poor wretches whose infirmities prevented their leaving the

house wore horribly mangled; and when the fugitives who had sought

shelter in the fields returned to the ruins they found only the

bruised and blackened remains of their fellow-inmates.

Let us take a parting glance at the Rebel army as it leaves the city.

The day is brightening in the east. The long line of baggage-wagons

and the artillery has been rumbling over the bridges all night. The

railroad trains have been busy in conveying the persons and property

of both the government and the people; but the last has departed, and

still a disappointed crowd is left at the depot. The roads leading

west are filled with fugitives in all sorts of vehicles, and on

horseback and on foot.

Men are rolling barrels of tar and turpentine upon the bridges. Guards

stand upon the Manchester side to prevent the return of any soldier

belonging to Richmond. Custis Lee's division has crossed, and

Kershaw's division, mainly of South Carolinians, follows. The troops

march silently; they are depressed in spirit. The rabble of Manchester

have found out what fine times their friends in Richmond are having,

and old women and girls are streaming across the bridges laden with

plunder,--webs of cloth, blankets, overcoats, and food from the

government storehouses. The war-worn soldiers, ragged and barefoot,

behold it, and utter curses against the Confederate government for

having deprived them of clothing and food.

General Ewell crosses the bridge, riding an iron-gray horse. He wears

an old faded cloak and slouch hat. He is brutal and profane, mingling

oaths with his orders. Following him is John Cabel Breckenridge, the

long, black, glossy hair of other days changed to gray, his high,

broad forehead wrinkled and furrowed. He is in plain black, with a

talma thrown over his shoulders. He talks with Ewell, and gazes upon

the scene. Suddenly a broad flash of light leaps up beyond the city,

accompanied with a dull, heavy roar, and he sees the air filled with

flying timbers of the hospital, whose inmates, almost without warning,

and without cause or crime, are blown into eternity.

The last division has crossed the river. The sun is up. A match is

touched to the turpentine spread along the timbers, and the bridges

are in flames; also the tobacco warehouses, the flouring-mills, the

arsenals, and laboratory. The Rebel troops behold the conflagration as

they wind along the roads and through the green fields towards the

southwest, and memory brings back the scenes of their earlier

rejoicing. It is the 2d of April, four years lacking two weeks since

the drunken carousal over the passage of the ordinance of Secession.

[Illustration: Ruins of Richmond.]

It was a little past four o'clock when Major A. H. Stevens of the

Fourth Massachusetts cavalry, and Provost Marshal of the Twenty-Fifth

Army Corps, with detachments from companies E and H, started upon a

reconnoissance of the enemy's intrenchments. He found them evacuated

and the guns spiked. A deserter piloted the detachment safely over the

torpedoes which had been planted in front of them. A mile and a half

out from the city, Major Stevens met a barouche and five men mounted

bearing a white flag. The party consisted of the Mayor, Judge Meredith

of the Confederate States Court, and other gentlemen, who tendered the

surrender of the city. He went into the city and was received with joy

by the colored people, who shouted their thanks to the Lord that the

Yankees had come. He proceeded to the Capitol, ascended the roof,

pulled down the State flag which was flying, and raised the guidons of

the two companies upon the building.

The flames were spreading, and the people, horror-struck and stupefied

by the events of the night, were powerless to arrest them. On, on,

from dwelling to warehouse, from store to hotel, from hotel to banks,

to the newspaper offices, to churches, all along Main Street from near

the Spottswood Hotel to the eastern end of the town; then back to the

river, to the bridges across the James, up to the large stone

fire-proof building, erected by the United States for a post-office,

full of Confederate shinplasters, around this, on both sides of it, up

to Capitol Square, the flames roared and leaped and crackled,

consuming all the business part of the city. In the arsenal were

several thousand shells, which exploded at intervals, throwing

fragments of iron, burning timbers, and blazing brands and cinders

over the surrounding buildings, and driving the people from their

homes.

Major Stevens ordered the fire-engines into position, posted his

soldiers to preserve order, and called upon the citizens to work the

engines, and did what he could to stop the progress of the devouring

element.

General Weitzel triumphantly entered the city at eight o'clock, the

colored soldiers singing the John Brown song. With even ranks and

steady step, colors waving, drums beating, bands playing, the columns

passed up the streets, flanked with fire, to the Capitol. Then

stacking their guns, and laying aside their knapsacks, they sprang to

the engines, or mounted the roofs and poured in buckets of water, or

tore down buildings, to stop the ravages of the fire kindled by the

departing Rebels,--emulating the noble example of their comrades in

arms at Charleston; like them manifesting no vindictiveness of spirit,

but forgetting self in their devotion to duty, forgetting wrong and

insult and outrage in their desire to serve their oppressors in their

hour of extremity.

The business portion was a sea of flame when I entered the city in the

afternoon. I tried to pass through Main Street, but on both sides the

fire was roaring and walls were tumbling. I turned into a side street,

rode up to the Capitol, and then to the Spottswood Hotel. Dr. Reed's

church in front was in flames. On the three sides of the hotel the

fire had been raging, but was now subdued, and there was a fair

prospect that it would be saved.

"Can you accommodate me with a room?"

"I reckon we can, sir, but like enough you will be burnt out before

morning. You can have any room you choose. Nobody here."

I registered my name on a page which bore the names of a score of

Rebel officers who had left in the morning, and took a room on the

first floor, from which I could easily spring to the ground in case

the hotel should be again endangered by the fire.

Throwing up the sash I looked out upon the scene. There were swaying

chimneys, tottering walls, streets impassable from piles of brick,

stones, and rubbish. Capitol Square was filled with furniture, beds,

clothing, crockery, chairs, tables, looking-glasses. Women were

weeping, children crying. Men stood speechless, haggard, wobegone,

gazing at the desolation.

In Charleston the streets echoed only to the sound of my own footsteps

or the snarling of hungry curs. There I walked through weeds, and trod

upon flowers in the grassy streets; but in Richmond I waded through

Confederate promises to pay, public documents, and broken furniture

and crockery.

Granite columns, iron pillars, marble facades, broken into thousands

of pieces, blocked the streets. The Bank of Richmond, Bank of the

Commonwealth, Traders' Bank, Bank of Virginia, Farmers' Bank, a score

of private banking-houses, the American Hotel, the Columbian Hotel,

the _Enquirer_ and the _Dispatch_ printing-offices, the Confederate

Post-Office Department, the State Court-House, the Mechanics'

Institute, all the insurance offices, the Confederate War Department,

the Confederate Arsenal, the Laboratory, Dr. Reed's church, several

founderies and machine-shops, the Henrico County Court-House, the

Danville and the Petersburg depots, the three bridges across the

James, the great flouring-mills, and all the best stores of the city,

were destroyed.

Soldiers from General Devens's command were on the roof of the

Capitol, Governor's house, and other buildings, ready to extinguish

the flames. The Capitol several times caught fire from cinders.

"If it had not been for the soldiers the whole city would have gone,"

said a citizen.

The colored soldiers in Capitol Square were dividing their rations

with the houseless women and children, giving them hot coffee,

sweetened with sugar,--such as they had not tasted for many months.

There were ludicrous scenes. One negro had three Dutch-ovens on his

head, piled one above another, a stew-pan in one hand and a skillet in

the other. Women had bags of flour in their arms, baskets of salt and

pails of molasses, or sides of bacon. No miser ever gloated over his

gold so eagerly as they over their supply of provisions. They had all

but starved, but now they could eat till satisfied.

How stirring the events of that day! Lee retreating, Grant pursuing;

Davis a fugitive; the Governor and Legislature of Virginia seeking

safety in a canal-boat; Doctors of Divinity fleeing from the wrath

they feared; the troops of the Union marching up the streets; the old

flag waving over the Capitol; Rebel ironclads blowing up; Richmond on

fire; the billows rolling from square to square, unopposed in their

progress by the bewildered crowd; and the Northern Vandals laying down

their arms, not to the enemy in the field, but the better to battle

with a foe not more relentless, but less controllable with the weapons

of war. Weird the scenes of that strange, eventful night,--the

glimmering flames, the clouds of smoke hanging like a funeral pall

above the ruins, the crowd of homeless creatures wandering the

streets.

"Such resting found the soles of unblest feet!"

In the morning I visited the Capitol building, which, like the

Confederacy, had become exceedingly dilapidated, the windows broken,

the carpets faded, the paint dingy.

General Weitzel was in the Senate Chamber issuing his orders; also

General Shepley, Military Governor, and General Devens.

The door opened, and a smooth-faced man, with a keen eye, firm, quick,

resolute step, entered. He wore a plain blue blouse with three stars

on the collar. It was the hero who opened the way to New Orleans, and

who fought the battle of the Mobile forts from the masthead of his

vessel,--Admiral Farragut. He was accompanied by General Gordon of

Massachusetts, commanding the Department of Norfolk. They heard the

news Monday noon, and made all haste up the James, landing at Varina

and taking horses to the city. It was a pleasure to take the brave

Admiral's hand, and answer his eager questions as to what Grant had

done. Being latest of all present from Petersburg, I could give him

the desired information. "Thank God, it is about over," said he of the

Rebellion.

It was a little past noon when I walked down to the river bank to view

the desolation. While there I saw a boat pulled by twelve rowers

coming up stream, containing President Lincoln and his little son,

Admiral Porter, and three officers. Forty or fifty freedmen--sole

possessors of themselves for twenty-four hours--were at work on the

bank of the canal, under the direction of a lieutenant, securing some

floating timber; they crowded round the President, forgetting work in

their wild joy at beholding the face of the author of the great

Emancipation Proclamation. As he approached I said to a colored

woman,--

"There is the man who made you free."

"What, massa?"

"That is President Lincoln."

"Dat President Linkum?"

"Yes."

She gazed at him a moment in amazement, joy, rapture, as if in

supernal presence, then clapped her hands, jumped and shouted,

"Glory! glory! glory!"

[Illustration: Farragut at Mobile.]

"God bless you, Sah!" said one, taking off his cap and bowing very

low.

"Hurrah! hurrah! President Linkum hab come! President Linkum hab

come!" rang through the street.

The lieutenant found himself without men. What cared those freedmen,

fresh from the house of bondage, for floating timber or military

commands? Their deliverer had come,--he who, next to the Lord Jesus,

was their best friend! It was not a hurrah that they gave so much as a

wild, jubilant cry of inexpressible joy.

They pressed round the President, ran ahead, and hovered upon the

flanks and rear of the little company. Men, women, and children joined

the constantly increasing throng. They came from all the streets,

running in breathless haste, shouting and hallooing, and dancing with

delight. The men threw up their hats, the women waved their bonnets

and handkerchiefs, clapped their hands, and shouted, "Glory to God!

glory! glory! glory!"--rendering all the praise to God, who had given

them freedom, after long years of weary waiting, and had permitted

them thus unexpectedly to meet their great benefactor.

"I thank you, dear Jesus, that I behold President Linkum!" was the

exclamation of a woman who stood upon the threshold of her humble

home, and with streaming eyes and clasped hands, gave thanks aloud to

the Saviour of men.

Another, more demonstrative, was jumping and swinging her arms,

crying, "Bless de Lord! Bless de Lord! Bless de Lord!" as if there

could be no end of her thankfulness.

No carriage was to be had, so the President, leading his son, walked

to General Weitzel's head-quarters,--Jeff Davis's mansion. Six

sailors, wearing their round blue caps and short jackets and baggy

pants, with navy carbines, formed the guard. Next came the President

and Admiral Porter, flanked by the officers accompanying him, and the

writer, then six more sailors with carbines,--twenty of us in all.

The walk was long, and the President halted a moment to rest. "May de

good Lord bless you, President Linkum!" said an old negro, removing

his hat and bowing, with tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. The

President removed his own hat and bowed in silence: it was a bow which

upset the forms, laws, customs, and ceremonies of centuries of

slavery. It was a death-shock to chivalry, and a mortal wound to

caste. Recognize a nigger! Disgusting. A woman in an adjoining house

beheld it, and turned from the scene with unspeakable contempt. There

were men in the surging mass who looked daggers from their eyes, and

felt murder in their hearts, if they did not breathe it from their

lips. But the hour of sacrifice had not yet come; the chosen assassin

was not there; the crowning work of treason and traitors yet remained

to be performed. Not the capital of the defunct slave Confederacy, but

of the restored nation, was to be the scene of the last brutal act in

the tragedy of horrors perpetrated in the name of Christianity. The

great-hearted, noble-minded, wise-headed man, whom Providence had

placed in the Executive chair to carry successfully through the bloody

war of freedom against slavery to its glorious consummation, passed on

to the mansion from whence the usurping President had fled.

When the soldiers saw him amid the noisy crowd they cheered lustily.

It was an unexpected ovation. Such a welcome, such homage, true,

heartfelt, deep, impassioned, no prince or prelate ever received.

[Illustration: President Lincoln in Richmond.]

The streets becoming impassable on account of the increasing

multitude, soldiers were summoned to clear the way. How strange the

event! The President of the United States--he who had been hated,

despised, maligned above all other men living by the people of

Richmond--was walking its streets, receiving every evidence of love

and honor! How bitter the reflections of that moment to some who

beheld him, who remembered, perhaps, that day in May, 1861, when

Jefferson Davis entered the city,--the pageant of that hour, his

speech, his promise to smite the smiter, to drench the fields of

Virginia with richer blood than that shed at Buena Vista! How that

part of the promise had been kept; how their sons, brothers, and

friends had fallen; how all else predicted had failed; how the land

had been filled with mourning; how the State had become a desolation;

how their property, wealth, had disappeared! They had been invited to

a gorgeous banquet; the fruit was fair to the eye, golden and

beautiful, but it had turned to ashes. They had been promised a high

place among the nations. Cotton was the king of kings; and England,

France, and the whole civilized world would bow in humble submission

to his majesty. That was the promise; but now their king was

dethroned, their government overthrown, their President and his

cabinet vagrants. They had been promised affluence, Richmond was to be

the metropolis of the Confederacy, and Virginia the all-powerful State

of the new nation. How terrible the cheat! Their thousand-dollar bonds

were not worth a penny. A million dollars would not purchase a dinner.

Their money was valueless, their slaves were freemen, the heart of

their city was in ashes. They had been deluded in everything. Those

whom they had most trusted had most abused their confidence; and at

last, in the most unfeeling and inhuman manner, had fired their

dwellings, destroying property they could no longer use or levy upon,

thus adding arson and robbery to the already long list of their

crimes.

The people of Richmond were in despair, having no means for present

subsistence, or to rebuild or commence business again. All their

heroism, hardship, suffering, expenditure of treasure, and sacrifice

of blood had availed them nothing. There could be no comfort in their

mourning, no alleviation to their sorrow. All had been lost in an

unrighteous cause, which God had not prospered, and no satisfaction

could be derived from their participation in it. For try to deceive

themselves as they might into a belief that the conflict was

unavoidable by the encroachments of the North upon the South, they

could but remember the security and peace they enjoyed in the Union,

little of which they had felt or dared hope for in their Utopian

scheme of slavery.

At length we reached the house from which Jeff Davis had so recently

departed, where General Weitzel had established his head-quarters. The

President entered and sat wearily down in an arm-chair which stood in

the fugitive President's reception-room. General Weitzel introduced

the officers present. Judge Campbell entered. At the beginning of the

war he was on the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States,

afterwards espoused Secession, and was appointed assistant Secretary

of War under Seddon. He was tall, and looked pale, care-worn,

agitated, and bowed very low to the President, who received him with

dignity, and yet cordially.

President Lincoln, accompanied by Admiral Porter, General Weitzel, and

General Shepley, rode through the city, escorted by a squadron of

cavalry, followed by thousands of colored people, shouting "Glory to

God!" They had seen great hardship and suffering. A few were well

dressed. Some wore pants of Union blue and coats of Confederate gray.

Others were in rags. The President was much affected as they crowded

around the carriage to touch his hands, and pour out their thanks.

"They that walked in darkness had seen a great light." Their great

deliverer was among them. He came not as a conqueror, not as the head

of a mighty nation,--

"Not with the roll of the stirring drum,

Nor the trumpet that sings of fame,"--

but as a plain, unpretending American citizen, a representative

republican Chief Magistrate, unheralded, almost unattended, with

"malice towards none, with charity for all," as he had but a few weeks

previously proclaimed from the steps of the Capitol at Washington.

He visited Libby prison, breathed for a moment its fetid air, gazed

upon the iron-grated windows and the reeking filth upon the slippery

floors, and gave way to uncontrollable emotions.

Libby Prison! What horrors it recalls! What sighs and groans! What

prayers and tears! What dying out of hope! What wasting away of body

and mind! What nights of darkness settling on human souls! Its door an

entrance to a living charnel-house, its iron-barred windows but the

outlook of hell! It was the Inferno of the slave Confederacy. Well

might have been written over its portal, "All hope abandon, ye who

enter here."

Visiting the prison the next morning, I found it occupied by several

hundred Rebels, who were peering from the grated windows, looking

sadly upon the desolation around them. A large number were upon the

roof, breathing the fresh air, and gazing upon the fields beyond the

James, now green with the verdure of spring. Such liberty was never

granted Union prisoners. Whoever approached the prison bars, or laid

his hand upon them, became the victim of a Rebel bullet.

[Illustration: A. Lincoln.]

There was a crowd of women with pails and buckets at the windows,

giving the prisoners provisions and talking freely with their friends,

who came not only to the windows, but to the door, where the

good-natured sentinel allowed conversation without restraint.

The officer in charge conducted our party through the wards. The air

was saturated with vile odors, arising from the unwashed crowd,--from

old rags and dirty garments, from puddles of filthy water which

dripped through the floor, ran down the walls, sickening to all the

senses. From this prison fifteen hundred men were hurried to the

flag-of-truce boat on Sunday, that they might be exchanged before the

evacuation of the city. Many thousands had lived there month after

month, wasting away, starving, dying of fever, of consumption, of all

diseases known to medical science,--from insanity, despair,

idiocy,--having no communication with the outer world, no food from

friends, no sympathy, no compassion,--tortured to death through rigor

of imprisonment, by men whose hearts grew harder from day to day by

the brutality they practised.

"Please give me a bit of bread, Aunty, I am starving," was the plea

one day of a young soldier who saw a negro woman passing the window.

He thrust his emaciated hand between the bars and clutched the bit

which she cheerfully gave him; but before it had passed between his

teeth he saw the brains of his benefactress spattered upon the

sidewalk by the sentinel!

Although the city was in possession of the Union forces, there were

many residents who believed that Lee would retrieve the disaster.

"I was sorry," said a citizen, "to see the Stars and Stripes torn down

in 1861. It is the prettiest flag in the world, but I shed tears when

I saw it raised over the Capitol of Virginia on Sunday morning."

"Why so?" I asked.

"Because it was done without the consent of the State of Virginia."

"Then you still cling to the idea that a State is more than the

nation."

"Yes; State rights above everything."

"Don't you think the war is almost over,--that it is useless for Lee

to contend further?"

"No. He will fight another battle, and he will win. He can fight for

twenty-five years in the mountains."

"Do you think that men can live in the mountains?"

"Yes; on roots and herbs, and fight you till you are weary of it, and

whip you out."

A friend called upon one of the most aristocratic families of the

place. He found that men and women alike were exceedingly bitter and

defiant. They never would yield. They would fight through a

generation, and defeat the Yankees at last.

They were proud of the Old Dominion, the mother of States and of

Presidents, proud of their ancestry, of the chivalry of Virginia, and

gave free expression to their hatred.

Having heard that a brigade of colored troops had been enlisted in

Richmond for the Rebel army, I made inquiries to ascertain the facts.

All through the war the Rebel authorities had engaged a large number

of slaves as teamsters and laborers. The immense fortifications thrown

up around Richmond, Yorktown, Petersburg, Wilmington, Charleston, and

Savannah were the work of slaves. The Rebels said that slavery,

instead of being a weakness, was an element of strength. Slaves built

the fortifications and raised the corn and wheat, which enabled the

Confederacy to send all of its white fighting population to the field.

But the fighting material was used up. Men were wanted. An unsparing

conscription failed to fill up the ranks. Then came the agitation of

the question of employing negro soldiers.

General Lee advocated the measure. "They possess," said he, "all the

physical qualifications, and their habits of obedience constitute a

good foundation for discipline. I think those who are employed should

be freed. It would neither be just nor wise, in my opinion, to require

them to serve as slaves. The best course to pursue, it seems to me,

would be to call for such as are willing to come,--willing to come,

with the consent of their owners. An impressment or draft would not be

likely to bring out the best class, and the use of coercion would make

the measure distasteful to them and to their owners."

The subject was debated in secret session in Congress, and a bill

enacted authorizing their employment.

A great meeting was held in the African church to "fire the Southern

heart," and speeches were made. A recruiting-office was opened. The

newspapers spoke of the success of the movement. Regiments were

organizing.

"I fear there will soon be a great scarcity of arms when the negroes

are drilled," wrote the Rebel war clerk in his diary on the 11th of

March; and five days later, on the 17th, "We shall have a negro army.

Letters are pouring into the department from men of military skill and

character, asking authority to raise companies, battalions, and

regiments of negro troops. It is the desperate remedy for the very

desperate case, and may be successful. If three hundred thousand

efficient soldiers can be made of this material, there is no

conjecturing when the next campaign may end."

A week later the colored troops had a parade in Capitol Square. There

were so few, that the war clerk said it was "rather a ridiculous

affair."

"How many colored men enlisted?" I asked of a negro.

"'Bout fifty, I reckon, sir. Dey was mostly poor Souf Carolina

darkies,--poor heathen fellers, who didn't know no better."

"Would you have fought against the Yankees?"

"No, sir. Dey might have shot me through de body wid ninety thousand

balls, before I would have fired a gun at my friends."

"Then you look upon us as your friends?"

"Yes, sir. I have prayed for you to come; and do you think that I

would have prayed one way and fit de other?"

"I'll tell you, massa, what I would have done," said another, taking

off his hat and bowing: "I would have taken de gun, and when I cotched

a chance I'd a shooted it at de Rebs and den run for de Yankees."

This brought a general explosion from the crowd, and arrested the

attention of some white men passing.

We were in the street west of the Capitol. I had but to raise my eyes

to see the Stars and Stripes waving in the evening breeze. A few paces

distant were the ruins of the Rebel War Department, from whence were

issued the orders to starve our prisoners at Belle Isle, Salisbury,

and Andersonville. Not far were the walls of Dr. Reed's church, where

a specious Gospel had been preached, and near by was the church of Dr.

Minnegerode. The street was full of people. I was a stranger to them

all, but I ventured to make this inquiry,--

"Did you ever see an Abolitionist?"

"No, massa, I reckon I neber did," was the reply.

"What kind of people do you think they are?"

"Well, massa, I specs dey is a good kind of people."

"Why do you think so?"

"'Case when I hear bad white folks swearing and cursing about 'em, I

reckon dar must be something good about 'em."

"Well, my friends, I am an Abolitionist; I believe that all men have

equal rights, and that I have no more right to make a slave of you

than you have of me."

Every hat came off in an instant. Hands were reached out toward me,

and I heard from a dozen tongues a hearty "God bless you, sir!"

White men heard me and scowled. Had I uttered those words in Richmond

twenty-four hours earlier I should have had no opportunity to repeat

them, but paid for my temerity with a halter or a knife; but now those

men who stretched out their hands to me would have given the last drop

of their blood before they would have seen a hair of my head injured,

after that declaration.

The slaves were the true loyal men of the South. They did what they

could to help put down the Rebellion by aiding Union prisoners to

escape, by giving trustworthy information. The Stars and Stripes was

their banner of hope. What a life they led! I met a young colored man,

with features more Anglo-Saxon than African, who asked,--

"Do you think, sir, that I could obtain employment in the North?"

"What can you do?"

"Well, sir, I have been an assistant in a drug store. I can put up

prescriptions. I paid forty dollars a month for my time before the

Confederate money became worthless, but my master thought that I was

going to run away to the Yankees, and sold me awhile ago; and he was

my own father, sir."

"Your own father?"

"Yes, sir! They often sell their own flesh and blood, sir!"

Among the correspondents accompanying the army was a gentleman

connected with the Philadelphia _Press_, Mr. Chester, tall, stout, and

muscular. God had given him a colored skin, but beneath it lay a

courageous heart. Visiting the Capitol, he entered the Senate chamber

and sat down in the Speaker's chair to write a letter. A paroled Rebel

officer entered the room.

"Come out of there, you black cuss!" shouted the officer, clenching

his fist.

Mr. Chester raised his eyes, calmly surveyed the intruder, and went on

with his writing.

"Get out of there, or I'll knock your brains out!" the officer

bellowed, pouring out a torrent of oaths; and rushing up the steps to

execute his threat, found himself tumbling over chairs and benches,

knocked down by one well-planted blow between his eyes.

Mr. Chester sat down as if nothing had happened. The Rebel sprang to

his feet and called upon Captain Hutchins of General Devens's staff

for a sword.

"I'll cut the fellow's heart out," said he.

"O no, I guess not. I can't let you have my sword for any such

purpose. If you want to fight, I will clear a space here, and see that

you have fair play, but let me tell you that you will get a tremendous

thrashing," said Captain Hutchins.

The officer left the hall in disgust. "I thought I would exercise my

rights as a belligerent," said Mr. Chester.

I ascended the steps of the Capitol and stood on the roof of the

building to gaze upon the panorama, hardly surpassed in beauty

anywhere,--a lovely combination of city, country, valley, hill, plain,

field, forest, and foaming river. The events of four years came to

remembrance. First, the secession of the state on the 17th of April,

1861, by the convention which sat with closed doors in the hall below,

the threats of violence uttered against the Union delegates from the

western counties, the wild tumult of the "People's Convention," so

called, in Metropolitan Hall,--a body of Jacobins assembling to

browbeat the convention in the Capitol; and when the ordinance was

passed, the appearance of John Tyler, once President of the United

States, with Governor Wise, among the fire-eaters, welcomed with noisy

cheers; it seemed as if I could hear the voice of Tyler as he said

that Virginia and the people of the South had submitted to aggression

till secession was a duty, and that the Almighty would smile upon the

work of that day. They were the words of a feeble old man, whose every

official act was in the interest of slavery. Vehement the words of

Wise, who imagined that the Yankees had seized one of his children as

a hostage for himself.

"If they suppose," said he, "that hostages of my own heart's blood

will stay my hand in a contest for the maintenance of sacred rights,

they are mistaken. Affection for kindred, property, and life itself

sink into insignificance in comparison with the overwhelming

importance of public duty in such a crisis as this."

Mason, the lordly senator, and Governor Letcher, the drunken executive

of the State, also addressed the crazy crowd, fired to a burning heat

of madness by passion and whiskey.

On that occasion the Confederate flag was raised upon the flagstaff

springing from the roof of the Capitol, although the State had not

joined the Confederacy. The people were to vote on the question, and

yet the Convention had enjoined that the act of secession should be

kept a secret till Norfolk Navy Yard and Harper's Ferry Arsenal could

be seized.[98] The newspapers of Richmond had no announcement to make

the next morning that the State was no longer a member of the Union.

What honorable, high-minded, "chivalrous" proceedings!

[Footnote 98: Rebel War Clerk's Diary, Vol. I. p. 24.]

Then came the volunteers thronging the streets. Professor Jackson

(Stonewall) was drilling the cadets. Three days after the passage of

the ordinance of secession, troops were swarming in the yard around

the Capitol, and A. H. Stephens, Vice-President of the Confederacy,

and Ex-President Tyler, and the drunken Letcher were negotiating an

alliance offensive and defensive between the sovereign State of

Virginia and the States already confederated to establish a

slaveholding republic.

Next in order was the arrival of Jeff Davis and the perambulating

government of the Confederacy, to tarry a few days in Richmond before

proceeding to Washington. Davis and his followers made boastful

promises of what they could and would do, breathing out threatenings

and slaughter against the hated Yankees. Then the hurly-burly,--the

rush of volunteers, the arrival of troops, welcomed with cheers and

smiles, the streets through which they passed strewn with flowers by

the ladies of Richmond. The Confederate Congress and heads of

departments came,--Stephens, Toombs, Cobb, Floyd, Wigfall, Memminger,

Mallory,--with thousands of place-hunters, filling the city to

overflowing, putting money into the pockets of the citizens,--not gold

and silver, but Confederate currency, to be redeemed two years after

the ratification of the treaty of peace with the United States.

Beauregard, the rising star of the South, came from Charleston, to

reap fresh laurels at Manassas. Richmond was solemn on that memorable

Sabbath, the 21st of June, 1861, for through the forenoon the reports

were that the Yankees were winning the day; but at night, when the

news came from Davis that the "cowardly horde" was flying,

panic-stricken, to Washington, how jubilant the crowd!

A year later there were pale faces, when the army of McClellan swept

through Williamsburg. Jeff Davis packed up his furniture, and made

preparations to leave the city. There was another fright when the

Rebels came back discomfited from Fair Oaks.

From the roof of the Capitol anxious eyes watched the war-clouds

rolling up from Mechanicsville and Cold Harbor. Those were mournful

days. Long lines of ambulances, wagons, coaches, and carts, filled

with wounded, filed through the streets. How fearful the slaughter to

the Rebels in those memorable seven days' fighting! Deep the

maledictions heaped upon the drunken Magruder for the carnage at

Malvern Hill.

Beneath the roof on which I stood Stuart, Gregg, and Stonewall

Jackson,--dead heroes of the Rebellion,--had reposed in state, mourned

by the weeping multitude.

Before me were Libby Prison and Belle Isle. What wretchedness and

suffering there! Starvation for soldiers of the Union, within sight of

the fertile fields of Manchester, waving with grain and alive with

flocks and herds! Nearer the Capitol was the mansion of Jeff Davis,

the slave-trader's jail and the slave-market. What agony and cries of

distress within the hearing of the Chief Magistrate of the

Confederacy, as mothers pressed their infants to their breasts for the

last time.

In front of the Capitol was the stone building erected by the United

States, where for four years Jeff Davis had played the sovereign,

where Benjamin, Memminger, Toombs, Mallory, Sedden, Trenholm, and

Breckenridge had exercised authority, dispensing places of profit to

their friends, who came in crowds to find exemption from conscription.

Beyond, and on either side, was the forest of blackened chimneys,

tottering walls, and smoking ruins of the fire which had swept away

the accumulated wealth of years in a day. How terrible the

retribution! Before the war there was quiet in the city, but there

came a reign of terror, when ruffians ruled, when peaceful citizens

dared not be abroad after dark. There was sorrow in every household

for friends fallen in battle, and Poverty sat by many a hearthstone.

Hardest of all to bear was the charity of their enemies. Under the

shadow of the Capitol the Christian and Sanitary Commissions were

giving bread to the needy. Standing there upon the roof I could look

down upon a throng of men, women, and children receiving food from the

kind-hearted delegates, upon whose lips were no words of bitterness,

but only the song of the angels,--"Peace on earth, good-will to men!"

[Illustration: U. S. Christian Commission.]

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE CONFEDERATE LOAN.

[Sidenote: April, 1865.]

The attitude of Great Britain towards the United States during the

Rebellion will make a strange chapter in history. The first steamship

returning from that country after the firing upon Fort Sumter brought

the intelligence that the British government had recognized the Rebels

as belligerents. Mr. Adams, the newly appointed Minister to the Court

of St. James, was on his way to London, but without waiting to hear

what representations he might have to make, the ministry with unseemly

haste gave encouragement to the Rebels.

Palmerston, Russell, the chief dignitaries of state, and of the Church

also, with the London _Times_ and Morning _Post_, espoused the cause

of the slaveholders, while the weavers of Lancashire, though thrown

out of employment by the blockade, gave their sympathies to the North.

They were ignorant of the causes which led to hostilities. The English

press informed them that it was the tariff; that the people of the

South had a right to secede; that the United States had no right to

restrain them; that the South was fighting for liberty: but

notwithstanding this, the operatives, from the beginning, ranged

themselves on the side of the Union. They stood in opposition to

Palmerston and the peers of the realm,--the press, the aristocracy,

and the mill-owners. In this they were guided, perhaps, more by

instinct than by reason.

They knew that in the North labor was free, but that the South had

made slavery the corner-stone of their Confederacy. Their life was

ever a battle, for Labor was the slave of Capital. They knew nothing

of State rights, or the rights of belligerents, or of American

tariffs, but instinct by a short road led them to the conclusion that

the conflict was not merely national, but world-wide, and that the

freemen of the North were fighting for the rights of men everywhere.

The London _Times_ was foremost among the newspapers to prophesy the

disruption of the Union. Its utterances were oracular. It claimed

superior knowledge and a deeper insight of the American question than

any of its contemporaries, and its opinions were accepted as truth by

all Englishmen who approved the slaveholders' war. Ship-builders,

cotton-brokers, and capitalists regulated their faith and works by the

leading articles of that journal, and loaned their money to the South.

"The great republic is gone, and no serious attempt will be made by

the North to save it," wrote Mr. W. H. Russell to the _Times_ in

April, 1861.

"General bankruptcy is inevitable, and agrarian and socialist riots

may be expected very soon," was the despatch of that individual

immediately after the battle of Bull Run.

The tradespeople of England believed him. The South was victor; the

Confederacy was to become a nation. The agents of the South were

already in England purchasing supplies, paying liberal prices. They

found that Englishmen were ready to engage in any scheme of

profit,--in running the blockade, building war-ships for the

Confederate government, or selling arms and ammunition, in violation

of the laws of the realm.

As a large number of letters written by Rebel agents and emissaries in

England and France have fallen into my hands, I purpose in this

chapter to give a _resume_ of their contents, which expose the secret

history of the Cotton Loan.

Soon after the beginning of hostilities the Liverpool correspondent of

the _Times_, Mr. James Spence, entered heartily into the support of

the cause of the South. He was engaged in commercial pursuits, but

found leisure not only to keep up his correspondence with the _Times_,

but to write a book entitled the "American Union," in which he

advocated the right of the South to secede, and extolled slavery as a

superior condition of life for the laboring man.

"The negroes," said he, "have at all times abundant food: the

sufferings of fireless winters are unknown to them, medical attendance

is always at command; in old age there is no fear of a workhouse;

their children are never a burden or a curse; their labor, though

long, is neither difficult nor unhealthy. As a rule, they have their

own ground and fowls and vegetables, of which they sell a surplus. So

far, then, as merely animal comforts extend, their lot is more free

from suffering than those of many classes of European laborers."

Such sympathy with slavery received its reward in the appointment of

Mr. Spence as financial agent of the Confederacy. Large sums of money

were sent from Charleston, Savannah, and Richmond to England. Vessels

found little difficulty in running the blockade during the first year

of the war, and Nassau became the half-way station, and thousands of

Englishmen counted up their gains from blockade-running with glee.

Societies were formed in London and other principal cities, called

"Confederate Aid Associations."

An address to the British public was issued, setting forth the

barbarism of the North against the South, struggling for her rights.

"The women of the South," reads the address, "have been insulted,

imprisoned, flogged, violated, and outraged in a most inhuman and

savage manner. Their homes and goods have been destroyed, their

houses forcibly entered, the helpless and unresisting inmates

murdered, the fleeing overtaken and cut down in cold blood by the

savage soldiery of the North.... They are now glutting their

hellish rage against the people they seek to destroy in

inflicting every kind of torture, punishment, and misery that

their fruitful minds can invent upon those that they would fain

call fellow-citizens.... The atrocities, cruelties, crimes, and

outrages committed against the South in this war are without a

parallel in the history of the world....

"In the name of suffering Lancashire, civilization, justice,

peace, liberty, humanity, Christianity, and a candid world; and

by the highest considerations that can call men into action, we

beg you to come forward to aid, contribute, and support a brave

and valiant people that are fighting for their homes, firesides,

birthright, lives, independence, sacred honor, and all that is

dear to mankind. By all the sorrows, deprivations, bereavements,

losses, hardships, and suffering that now ingulf the Confederate

people, we appeal to you to arouse, and rush to their aid with

your pence, shillings, and pounds; give them your sympathy,

countenance, and influence, to hurl the tyrants from their

country, and obtain the greatest boon to man,--self-government.

Fairest and best of earth, for the sake of violated innocence,

insulted virtue, and the honor of your sex,--come in woman's

majesty and omnipotence, and give strength to a cause that has

for its object the highest human aims, the amelioration and

exaltation of humanity."

The address was issued by Englishmen, had a wide circulation, and

undoubtedly was accepted as a true representation of affairs.

Then Whittier sent his stinging words, "To Englishmen," across the

Atlantic:--

"But yesterday you scarce could shake,

In slave-abhorring rigor,

Our Northern palms, for conscience' sake;

To-day you clasp the hands that ache

With 'walloping the nigger'!

* * * * *

"And is it Christian England cheers

The bruiser, not the bruised?

And must she run, despite the tears

And prayers of eighteen hundred years,

A-muck in Slavery's crusade?

"O black disgrace! O shame and loss

Too deep for tongue to phrase on!

Tear from your flag its holy cross,

And in your van of battle toss

The pirate's skull-bone blazon!"

The Trent affair had inflamed the British public, and Rebel

sympathizers were fierce for war, that the South might reap the

advantage; but Mason and Slidell had been given up by President

Lincoln, and Mr. Mason stood hat in hand at the gate of St. James. But

Earl Russell could not conveniently see him just then. Lancashire had

spoken. Men upon whose humble hearths no fire warmed the wintry air,

in whose homes poverty was ever a guest, around whose doors the wolf

of want was always prowling,--the bone and muscle of England, with

whom the instinct of Liberty was stronger to persuade than distress

and famine to subdue,--they, the hardy workers of England, were with

the North.

At home, in the valley of the Shenandoah, Mr. Mason had been a

Virginia lord. It was his nature to be proud, imperious, and haughty.

He lived in the greatness of an ancient family name. He expected ready

admittance at St. James; but though he rang the bell early and often,

and sent in his card, Earl Russell was not "at home" to him.

He was ready to turn away in disgust, but the wants of the

Confederacy compelled him to submit to whatever humiliation Earl

Russell might choose to administer. He told his griefs to Mr.

Benjamin, the Confederate Secretary of State, and received condolence.

"Your correspondence with Lord Russell," wrote the Secretary,

"shows with what scant courtesy you have been treated, and

exhibits a marked contrast between the conduct of the English and

French statesmen now in office, in their intercourse with foreign

agents, eminently discreditable to the former. It is lamentable

that at this late period of the nineteenth century, a nation so

enlightened as Great Britain should have failed yet to discover

that a principal cause of the dislike and hatred towards England,

of which complaints are rife, in her Parliament and press, is the

offensive arrogance of some of her public men. The contrast is

striking between the polished courtesy of M. Thouvenal and the

rude incivility of Lord Russell.

"Your determination to submit to these annoyances in the service

of your country, and to overlook personal slights, while hope

remains that your continued presence in England may benefit our

cause, cannot fail to command the approval of your

government."[99]

[Footnote 99: Benjamin's letter to Mason, October 28, 1862.]

Englishmen wanted to see the great republic broken to pieces, but

there were repulsive features in that system of civilization which the

South was attempting to establish. The Union dead were mangled at

Manassas; their bones were carved into charms and amulets. Among the

mountains of Tennessee old men were dragged from their beds at

midnight, and hung without judge or jury, because they loved the flag

of their country. In Missouri bridges were burned at night, and men,

women, and children upon railroad trains were precipitated into

yawning gulfs by their neighbors! This was the work of the "master

race," too "refined," "chivalric," and "gentlemanly" to associate with

the laboring men of the North. Were the workingmen of Old England any

more worthy than they of New England to associate with the

slave-masters of the South? British operatives and mechanics

understood the question,--that it was a conflict between two systems

of labor,--and they rejected with disdain all overtures from the

South.

The intervention of England and France was necessary to insure the

success of the Rebel cause, and English and European public sentiment

must be brought round to the Southern side by the power of the press.

Mr. Edwin De Leon therefore was made an agent of the Confederacy to

subsidize the press of Europe. The wires were pulled by Mr. Benjamin,

who wrote thus to Mr. De Leon:--

"I will take measures to forward you additional means to enable

you to extend the field of your operations, and to embrace, if

possible, the press of Central Europe in your campaign. Austria

and Prussia, as well as the smaller Germanic powers, seem to

require intelligence of the true condition of our affairs, and

the nature of our struggle; and it is to be hoped that you may

find means to act with efficiency in moulding public opinion in

those countries."[100]

[Footnote 100: Benjamin's letter to Mr. De Leon, December 13,

1862.]

That this scheme of bribery was successful will appear further on. The

British government having with precipitate haste recognized the Rebels

as belligerents, English merchants were quick to follow in the track

of Palmerston and Russell. Merchants, bankers, admirals of the navy,

officers of the army, speculators, spendthrifts, adventurers from the

slums and stews of London and Liverpool, in common with members of

Parliament and peers of the realm, engaged in blockade-running, not

only to enrich themselves, but to aid in establishing a government

based on human slavery. The agents of the Confederacy in England found

hearty welcome from all classes, especially the ship-builders.

[Illustration: Captain Winslow and the Kearsarge.]

Soon after the attack upon Sumter Mr. Mallory, Secretary of the

Confederate Navy, sent Captain Bullock of Savannah to England, to

engage ship-builders to fit out privateers. He found W. C. Miller &

Son of Liverpool, and the Lairds of Birkenhead, ready to engage in the

work of destroying American commerce. He contracted with the first for

the building of the Oreto, or Florida, and with the Lairds for the

"290," or Alabama. He also found warm welcome from Roebuck, Gregory,

and other members of Parliament, and from capitalists, who subscribed

liberally in aid of the enterprise.

[Illustration: Admiral Farragut.]

Funds were needed for the payment of Rebel debts in England, and the

Confederate Congress passed a bill in April, 1862, authorizing the

exchange of bonds for articles in kind, and Mr. Benjamin thereupon

wrote to Mr. Mason, advising him of the financial arrangements which

had been made.

"At your suggestion," said Mr. Benjamin, "I have appointed Mr.

James Spence of Liverpool financial agent, and have requested him

to negotiate for the sale of five million dollars of our eight

per cent bonds, if he can realize fifty per cent on them. I have

already sent over two millions of bonds, and will send another

million in a week or ten days. Mr. Spence is directed to confer

with Messrs. Fraser, Trenholm & Co. who had previously been made

our depositaries at Liverpool.... I have also directed Mr. Spence

to endeavor to negotiate for the application of two and a half

millions of coin, which I have here, for the purchase of supplies

and munitions for our army. I hope that this coin will be

accepted by British houses in payment at the rate of sterling in

England, less freight and insurance. It seems to me that upon its

transfer to British owners, they could obtain transportation for

it on their vessels of war from any Confederate port, inasmuch as

it would be _bona fide_ British property, and in any event the

holder of the transfer would have a certain security."[101]

[Footnote 101: Benjamin's Letter, October 24, 1862.]

This scheme of an alliance between British naval officers and the

Rebel government was carried out, and a portion of the coin shipped in

a British man-of-war, the Vesuvius, from Bahama, by the English

consul.[102]

[Footnote 102: Earl Russell's letter to Mr. Adams, Diplo.

Cor. 1863, Part I. p. 129.]

The bonds referred to by Mr. Benjamin were the regularly issued bonds

of the Confederacy. Cotton certificates were also issued; but in

addition to these means, the Rebel government deemed it advisable to

bring out a loan based exclusively on cotton.

The proposition came from Mr. Slidell, who was in Paris, envoy to the

Court of France, but who, instead of attending the receptions of the

Emperor at the Tuileries, was endeavoring to obtain social and

political recognition by giving luxurious entertainments. Napoleon was

ready to recognize the Confederacy, but Palmerston and Russell

hesitated, and he was not quite prepared to move alone in the matter.

He was anxious to see the great republic broken up, not that he

particularly desired the establishment of the Confederacy, but for

the furtherance of his own designs in Mexico. While professing to Mr.

Slidell good-will, and a readiness to give substantial aid to the

Rebellion, his agents, M. de Saligny, French minister in Mexico, M.

Theron, French consul at Galveston, and M. Tabouelle, French

vice-consul at Richmond, were intriguing to dismember Texas from the

Confederacy.

"The Emperor of the French," wrote Mr. Benjamin to Mr. Slidell, "has

determined to conquer and hold Mexico as a colony, and is desirous of

interposing a weak power between his new colony and the Confederate

States, in order that he may feel secure against interference with his

designs on Mexico.... The evidence thus afforded of a disposition on

the part of France to seize on this crisis of our fate as her occasion

for the promotion of selfish interests, and this too after the

assurances of friendly disposition, or, at worst, impartial

neutrality, which you have received from the leading public men of

France, cannot but awaken solicitude."[103]

[Footnote 103: Benjamin to Slidell, October 17, 1862.]

The French consuls at Galveston and Richmond were dismissed by Jeff

Davis, but that did not outwardly ruffle the temper of the Emperor,

nor stop the cotton loan, as will presently be seen. The Rebel

congressmen looked upon Slidell's scheme with distrust, but the bill

was eventually passed in secret session. The finances of the

Confederacy were going to wreck. There were heavy debts in Europe,

and, unless the bills were promptly paid, there would be an end of

supplies. England was suffering for cotton, and the time had come for

the successful negotiation of a loan, based on cotton, with great

apparent advantages to the subscribers. The mill-owners of Manchester

were ready to enter upon any speculation which would start their

machinery; the aristocracy would subscribe out of sympathy for the

slaveholders; the Liverpool shippers would take stock, as it would

give employment to their blockade-runners; while the unusual risks and

great chances of profit would make it attractive to the multitude with

whom the Derby is the whitest day of the year.

Mr. Slidell had made the acquaintance of Baron Ermile d'Erlanger of

Paris, a Jewish banker, who had a branch house in Frankfort conducted

by his brother, Raphael d'Erlanger. This firm was recommended by

Slidell as a suitable agency for bringing out the loan, and the

contract was given them by Mr. Memminger. D'Erlanger began

preparations for putting it on the market in February, 1863. He

desired to issue it in England, France, Holland, and Germany at the

same time, to bring to the Confederacy the financial support of

Europe. The considerations were political as well as financial. He

found some difficulty, however, in obtaining English agents. The

Barings and Rothschilds stood aloof. He offered the London management

to Messrs. John H. Gilliat & Co., but that firm declined having

anything to do with it. It was offered to other bankers, but refused.

He found willing agents at last in Messrs. John Henry Schroeder & Co.,

and the firm of Messrs. Lawrence, Son, and Pearce. In Liverpool

Messrs. Frazer, Trenholm, & Co. had been acting as agents of the

Confederacy, and the management was placed in their hands. Schroeder's

agents in Amsterdam managed it there, while D'Erlanger's branch house

in Frankfort brought it out in that city. D'Erlanger himself

manipulated it in Paris.

D'Erlanger and Mr. Beer, of his firm, visited England, and arranged

matters with Mason and Spence, and with Frazer, Trenholm, & Co., all

of whom were acting as agents of the Confederacy. A special agent had

been appointed by the Rebel government to take charge of the

loan,--General C. J. McRae,--who was on his way from Richmond to

Paris; but as the needs of the Confederacy were urgent, the loan was

opened before his arrival.

The support of the press was secured,--all but two or three papers

being brought, through the agency of Mr. De Leon, Mr. Mason, and Mr.

Spence, to praise the Confederacy, cry down the Union, and urge

recognition by France and England as the surest way to put an end to

the war.

The correspondence in my possession between the parties opens on the

1st of March. Mr. Spence, sitting in his parlor in the Burlington

Hotel, Old Burlington Street, London, writes to Baron d'Erlanger, who

is in Paris, asking for a copy of the contract.

D'Erlanger did not place a very high estimate on the ability of Mr.

Spence as a financial manager; but as he was the correspondent of the

_Times_, and commercial agent of the Confederacy, thought best not to

offend him. Spence, on the other hand, saw an opportunity to make

money. A week later, on the 6th of March, he wrote thus to

D'Erlanger:--

"You said something in the last interview of L50,000 of the

stock. If it had occurred to you to put down to me that quantity

at the gross price of seventy-seven, I should be disposed to

consider it, looking to the advantage to all concerned of having

a common interest."

As the loan was issued at 90, this proposal of Mr. Spence to take it

at 77,--giving him a margin of 13 per cent under the contract

price,--was, in the language of bankers, "a shave" for his services as

correspondent of the _Times_,--a transaction upon which more light

will be thrown further on in this history.

The loan was put upon the market on the 19th of March. Fifteen per

cent was to be paid at the time of subscribing. The stock was limited

to three million pounds sterling ($15,000,000); but so desirous were

Englishmen to take it, the applications were for L9,000,000

($45,000,000).

On the evening of the 19th Mr. Spence wrote to D'Erlanger of its

success in Liverpool:--

"All goes well here. The cotton trade take it up with strong

interest, and it will come out for large sums. I applied very

early for L20,000, and thought I should have been first, but

found P---- was before me, with his L100,000. You will have a lot

of applications in London from the storgs,--that is, those who

join to sell at the premium. Here we have no class of that kind,

and our applicants, as in Manchester, being more _bona fide_,

will, as a rule, take a day or two to digest its merits. The

market closed here at 4-1/4,--quite high enough for the first

day."

On the next day, the 20th, Mr. Spence writes:--

"We shall very much exceed a million here, I think, by noon

to-morrow. The political effect will be enormous. It is the

recognition of the South by the intelligence of Europe."

On the 21st, congratulations were received by D'Erlanger from Slidell,

who was in London.

"Allow me to congratulate you," said he, "on your _magnific_ success.

Apart from the direct advantages of the affair, it cannot fail to

give great prestige to your house."

"_The Emperor himself, through the medium of his Chef de Cabinet_,"

wrote D'Erlanger to Memminger, "_complimented us upon the great

success; a proof with what interest the operation had been received by

all friends of the South._"

Notwithstanding the "intelligence of Europe" had rushed to secure it,

bankers of respectability--men who prized honor and integrity above

pounds and pence--stood aloof, for they remembered that Mr. Jefferson

Davis, President of the slaveholding Confederacy, was a repudiator. No

allegation against him had been made through the press, but the

_Times_ came to the rescue before the attack. On the 19th, the day on

which the loan was issued, Mr. Sampson, editor of the city article,

said:--

"Those among the English people who are still suffering from

Mississippi repudiation will perhaps view with wonder and regret

the negotiation of a loan for a government of which Mr. Jefferson

Davis, by whom that repudiation was defended in his place in

Congress, is the head. But the Southern Confederacy includes

Virginia, Georgia, and other honorable States, and it is by the

prospect of what the Confederacy will do as a whole that people

will make their calculation. The reasoning that would exclude the

South from a loan on account of the conduct of Mississippi, would

apply equally to the North, since the North embraces Michigan. It

would also have applied to the United States loans negotiated

while Mississippi was a State of the Union, and especially while

Mr. Jefferson Davis was an influential member of the Federal

government, and regarded with high favor by all the Northern

population, by whom the remarks of the _Times_ on his financial

views were then declared to be nothing but the outpourings of

British rancor."[104]

[Footnote 104: _Times_, March 19, 1863.]

Turning to the _Times_ of July 13th, of 1849, we find a letter written

by Jeff Davis, copied from the Washington _Union_, in which the

repudiator says:--

"The crocodile tears which have been shed over ruined creditors

are on a par with the lawless denunciations which have been

heaped upon that State."

To this the _Times_ replied:--

"Taking its principles and its tone together, it is a doctrine

which has never been paralleled. Let it circulate throughout

Europe, that a member of the United States Senate in 1849 has

openly proclaimed that at a recent period the Governor and

Legislative assemblies of his own State deliberately issued

fraudulent bonds for five million dollars to sustain the credit

of a rickety bank, that the bonds in question having been

hypothecated abroad to innocent holders, such holders have not

only no claim against the community by whose Executive and

Representatives this act was committed, but that they are to be

taunted for appealing to the verdict of the civilized world,

rather than to the judgment of the legal officers of the State by

whose functionaries they have been robbed, and that the ruin of

toil-worn men, of women and of children, and the crocodile tears

which that ruin has occasioned, is a subject of jest on the part

of those by whom it has been accomplished, and then let it be

asked if any foreigner ever penned a libel on the American

character equal to that against the people of Mississippi by

their own Senator."[105]

[Footnote 105: _Times_, July 13, 1849.]

Mr. Davis published a rejoinder, dated at Briarfield, Miss., August

29, 1849, addressed to the editor of the _Mississippian_. "It is a

foreigner's slander," said he, "against the government, the judiciary,

and the people of the Mississippi. It is an attack upon our republican

government, the hypocritical cant of stock-jobbers and pensioned

presses,--by the hired advocates of the _innocent_ stock dealers of

London change. It is a calumnious imputation."

The State of Mississippi had obtained the money in London on the

solemn pledge of the faith of the State, and loaned it to the

citizens; but the State had broken its pledge, repudiated the debt,

and Mr. Jeff Davis eulogized the proceeding! The courts of the State

decreed in 1842 that the debt was valid, and the decision was

reaffirmed in 1853. Jeff Davis was then Secretary of War, and through

his efforts and influence the State continued to repudiate the claims

of the British bondholders. In 1863 Mississippi was indebted to

Englishmen not only for the principal, $5,000,000, but for twenty-five

years of unpaid interest; yet, notwithstanding this, the _Times_,

eating its words of other days, came before the English people with a

certificate of character for the repudiator, also publishing one from

Slidell. "I am inclined to think," wrote Slidell, "that the people in

London confound Mr. Reuben Davis, whom I have always understood to

have taken the lead on the question of repudiation, with President

Jefferson Davis. I am not aware that the latter was ever identified

with the question."

The _Times_, commenting upon Slidell's letter, said:--

"It is satisfactory to find that the friends of the President of

the Confederate States are anxious to free him from the charge of

having been an advocate of the repudiation which has now been

practised for exactly a quarter of a century by the State of

Mississippi....

"Should it turn out that there has been a mistake, the

announcement will be hailed with warm gratification,--not from

any idle feeling of partisanship for the South, on the one hand,

or the merely sordid consideration of the prospects of the

bondholders on the other, but because there can be no question,

whether his course be judged by Northerners or Southerners, that

in his conduct of the existing war Mr. Jefferson Davis has

displayed such qualities as to give the world an interest in

wishing that the dishonorable classes who are to be found in

every nation should not, either now or in the future, be able to

point to him as an instance of the possibility of a heartless

disregard of pecuniary rights being compatible with real

greatness of character. It is to be apprehended, however, that

the solution will not come in the manner contemplated.

Nevertheless, in another way it is not out of reach, and the best

probability is that the unhappy blot upon Mr. Davis's reputation

was caused by the influence of an unscrupulous community upon a

then young and aspiring politician, deriving his views, perhaps,

from the sophistical perversions of fraudulent lawyers, and that

he has since discovered his mistake, and learnt to feel and

acknowledge that if he had again to act in the matter, it would

be in a very different spirit."[106]

[Footnote 106: _Times_, March 23, 1863.]

It was necessary, for the success of the loan, to show that the South

was sure of obtaining its independence, and while the editor of the

city article was whitewashing Jeff Davis, the editor in chief was

assuring the public that the Union was forever broken up.

Thus wrote Mr. Delaine, the editor in chief, on the 19th:--

"So far as it is concerned, the once United States are a mere

heap of loose materials, a caldron of molten stuff, ready to

receive whatever form fortune may determine. In that vast _melee_

are two centres, which severally strive to give law and order to

the whole. At Washington a body of men, not without courage,

ability, and enterprise, are laboring, not to restore the

Union,--they might as well try to restore the Heptarchy,--but to

reconquer what has been lost, and, let the worst come to worst,

to establish a military power."

On the 27th another leader was given to American affairs. Said the

editor:--

"As to the final issue of the war, all the world, except some

politicians, soldiers, and contractors at Washington and New

York, have made up their minds, ... excepting a few disappointed

gentlemen of Republican tendencies, we all expect, we nearly all

wish, success to the Confederate cause."

And again, on the 28th:--

"There was room enough for two states on one continent, could the

Americans but have believed it. We do not affect to be surprised

at the course they have taken. It was natural that a blow should

be struck for the Union; but all Europe has long seen that the

Union could never be restored."

That men act from motives is a fundamental truth of moral philosophy.

Why the _Times_ gave such earnest advocacy to the slaveholders may be

inferred from what follows. Opening now the correspondence of

D'Erlanger with the Rebel Secretary of the Treasury, we read, under

date of June 6, 1863:--

"_A great margin had to be given to interest the newspapers, pay

commissions, and captivate the opinions of those who treated the loan

and its support as a question of profit and loss._"

And further on, in the same letter:--

"_Thanks to great pecuniary sacrifices made, AND THE SUPPORT OF ALL

THE NEWSPAPERS, the subscriptions for the loan surpassed our own

expectations. It reached five times the amount of the loan, and

success made everybody friends._"

At a later date, J. Henry Schroeder & Co., in a note marked "private,"

writes to D'Erlanger:--

"For the advertisements in the _Times_, through Mr. Sampson, and later

on in the _Index_, concerning the payment of the coupons, _we shall do

the needful_."

Thus we learn, from the statement of D'Erlanger, that the _Times_,

upon which John Bull pins his faith, was not only by sympathy, but

through interest, the advocate of the loan and of the slave-lords'

Confederacy. Its financial articles and its leaders were written to

the order of D'Erlanger. By the aid of the _Times_, a Parisian Jew,

taking advantage of the sympathy expressed for the South by lords,

members of Parliament, bankers, business men, and adventurers, and of

the general gullibility of the British public, was able to secure a

subscription of forty-five million dollars,--or thirty million in

excess of the loan! On page 532 we have seen that the Liverpool

correspondent of the _Times_ had been quieted by a commission of

L6,500 ($30,000), not for services rendered, but to secure his

interest, as explained in D'Erlanger's letter to Memminger, written on

the 8th of July, 1863. The banker says:--

"When our loan contract was coming back from America, this

gentleman [Mr. Spence] wanted to interfere in the matter, by all

means, and claimed a partnership to the contract of one sixth,

under the pretence that he was the financial agent of the

Confederate government in England, and that our making the loan

had put him out of business which he might otherwise have

transacted for the South. We knew that Mr. Spence wrote

frequently for the _Times_, that as a public writer he could do a

great deal of harm if not any good. We succeeded in escaping his

intrusion, and when I had made arrangements to bring out the loan

in England, I followed his invitation to arrange matters with him

in Liverpool, and went down there myself. I gave him L50,000 of

the loan at seventy-seven, taking them back at ninety, which gave

him a commission as profit of L6,500."

These extracts from D'Erlanger's correspondence will serve to show the

American people that the London _Times_ was in the service and pay of

Jeff Davis during the Rebellion.

On the evening of the 23d Lord Campbell called up the American

question in Parliament, making a speech in favor of recognizing the

Confederacy. He spoke of the remarkable success of the loan as a proof

that the English public were ready to aid the South. The loan being

thus bolstered up rose to four and a half per cent premium.

Mr. McRae having arrived in France, there was a meeting of

distinguished Rebels in Paris on the 4th of June, at D'Erlanger's

banking-house. Mason, Slidell, and L. J. C. Lamar, who had been

purchasing supplies in London for the Confederacy,--and McRae were

present. The object of the meeting was to consider the financial

condition of the Confederate government in Europe. The indebtedness of

the Confederacy abroad, for cannon, arms, ships, and supplies, at that

time, was put down at L1,741,000 ($8,705,000). "At the same time,"

reads the correspondence, "Ermile d'Erlanger & Co. furnished the

meeting with a full statement concerning the loan. According to which,

L1,850,000 ($9,250,000) of the loan is in circulation; a part of which

is full paid, having been subscribed for by the creditors of the

government."

The balance of L1,150,000 was in the hands of D'Erlanger for disposal.

In a letter written two days later, on the 6th, by D'Erlanger to

Memminger, we learn how there happened to be so large an amount of the

stock on hand. Unfavorable news from America caused a feeling of

uneasiness, and speculative holders began to sell at depreciated

rates.

"An arrangement," says D'Erlanger, "was thereupon entered into with

Mr. Mason, and heartily approved by Mr. Slidell, which enabled us to

buy for the government L1,000,000 of the stock; but so eager was the

speculation, that this did not suffice, and the sum had to be extended

to L1,500,000. This operation had its effect, and better tidings

helped the market."

Upon this amount purchased by D'Erlanger to sustain the price of the

loan, 35 per cent had been paid in by the subscribers.

"We would not," writes the banker, "have recommended the course of

buying back part of the loan for the government, but for its peculiar

character. The first Confederate loan was as much a political as a

commercial transaction, and we have done everything that it may be

regarded in both ways.... We, as well as our friends Messrs.

Schroeder, are happy to have been able to lend our names and credit to

the first financial operation of the South."

On the 13th of June McRae wrote to D'Erlanger a sharp letter, charging

him with "unauthorized proceedings." D'Erlanger was playing a good

game for himself.

"These important modifications of the contract," wrote McRae, "_have

in every case inured to the benefit of the contractors_."

D'Erlanger replied on the same day, saying, "The operation [the

repurchase of the stock] was not conducted on any selfish ground, but

for the political feeling attached to the loan." It made no difference

to D'Erlanger whether he bought or sold on government account, so long

as he received his commissions. He objected, however, to receiving the

full amount of his commission in bonds; he must have part cash.

"We should," wrote he, "be under too heavy an outlay if we had to take

the L150,000 commission in bonds." This commission, therefore, up to

the 15th of June, 1863, had reached the nice little sum of $750,000!

D'Erlanger having disposed of the stock to good advantage, was anxious

to bring out a second loan on the same terms. In a letter written to

Memminger on the 8th of July we discover what those terms were.

"We are ready," said he, "to make a new loan contract, taking exactly

the terms of the old contract, and engaging to divide with the

government the profits to be realized, between the rate of 77 and the

issue price."

The loan then on the market was issued at 90, which gave D'Erlanger a

commission of 6-1/2 per cent,--a portion of which doubtless went into

the pocket of Slidell. D'Erlanger was fearful that the success of the

loan would bring proposals from other banking-houses. "We wish," said

he, "that the circumstance of our names being the first connected with

a large financial transaction for the government in Europe shall tell

in our favor, and that a preference shall be granted to us, which we

are quite ready to merit, by making better terms to the government

than any other respectable house may offer."

This proposition was indorsed by McRae, who the following week

accompanied D'Erlanger to Rippaldson, where "a charming company" had

gathered, and "an agreeable week was passed in the society of Madame

Caroline and Miss Theresa." McRae, in a letter written on the 17th,

urges a new loan, but the news from Gettysburg and Vicksburg had

"lessened the appetite," and we hear no more of the proposition for a

second loan.

At a later date, in December, the correspondence is in regard to the

purchase of boats for the government, in which the Paris banker takes

the part of Shylock:--

"Well then, it now appears you need my help:

Go to then; you come to me, and you say,

_Shylock, we would have moneys_."

McRae wanted L200,000 on government account, and applied to

D'Erlanger, whose terms will be seen from the following extract from

McRae's letter:--

"Your proposition amounts to this: That the government should pay

100 per cent for the use of L200,000, for probably less than six

months, with no risk on the part of the lenders, as the L650,000

of bonds deposited, and the lien on the boats purchased with the

sum lent, would protect them against loss in any event. My

proposition was to pay 33-1/3 for L200,000, for a period of

probably ten or twelve months. This I considered sufficiently

favorable for the lenders, as they would have been secured by the

deposit of L333,333 of bonds, and a lien on the boats."

The American people, doubtless, care very little who among Rebel

agents and manipulators of the loan, or who of the bondholders, made

or lost money, and I pass over the details of the interesting

correspondence. That D'Erlanger managed it shrewdly for his own

benefit is very evident. He charged interest, commission, and exchange

on all the stock passing through his hands. In the transaction

L140,000, raised from the sale of bonds, was set aside as "caution

money" by Mason and Slidell, who wished, for political considerations,

to keep the stock at par. D'Erlanger charged commission on the

repurchase of this stock, although he held it in his own name, and

received interest on the same! McRae was not then in Europe, but upon

arriving he refused to ratify the act of Mason and Slidell, but made a

proposition to D'Erlanger that the banker should place L704,000 of

unsold stock. It is not stated what commission he was to receive. The

agreement was verbal, and D'Erlanger was to forfeit L140,000 if the

stock was not placed at the end of six months. The months rolled away,

and the stock was not placed, and D'Erlanger, instead of paying his

forfeiture, held on to the L140,000 of caution money, and helped

himself to the interest from government funds in his hands! McRae had

no redress except to appeal to Memminger. D'Erlanger wrote a honeyed

letter to the Rebel Secretary of Treasury, and offered to

"compromise" by giving up one half! McRae finally accepted terms from

D'Erlanger; what they were is not stated, but McRae writes a doleful

letter to the banker, saying that he is afraid Memminger and Davis

will censure him. D'Erlanger seems to have wound McRae round his

finger at will.

Schroeder & Co. were in the "ring" with D'Erlanger, and received

commission and brokerage on the entire amount of the loan, L3,000,000.

D'Erlanger, Schroeder, and McRae each took L50,000 of stock in the

"Franco-English Steam Navigation Company," which was to bring out

cotton on government account. D'Erlanger fixed the date of issuing the

bonds, and thus brought advantage to himself. Among the payments made

through Mr. Mason were L55,000 to Captain Crenshaw, L26,000 to Captain

North, L38,000 to Captain Maury, L31,000 to Captain Bullock and Mr.

Spence. A portion of these sums went into the hands of the Lairds for

the rams which they were building. Isaac Campbell & Co. received

L515,000 ($2,575,000). This firm took L150,000 of the loan. Bonds to

the amount of L117,000 were converted into cotton. It appears that

D'Erlanger endeavored to sweep these into his drag-net, and obtain

commission and brokerage wholly unauthorized.

Since the close of the war the British holders of the loan have called

upon D'Erlanger for an account of his operations, but can obtain no

satisfaction. They have despatched an agent to the United States,

appealing to the magnanimity of the Federal government for an

adjustment and payment of their claims! Such insolent audacity has

been promptly rebuked by Mr. Seward. Marvellous their stupidity and

effrontery,--to ask pay for the coals on which they sought to roast

us, for the rope that was to strangle the young giant of the West,

whose growth they had beheld with alarm, and whose power they feared!

As is evident from the correspondence in my possession, the whole

scheme was well contrived and manipulated by Slidell and D'Erlanger

for the benefit of themselves, and also of Campbell & Co., Schroeder &

Co., Spence, the Lairds, and McRae, who, by the aid of the London

_Times_, and "all the _papers_," were able to fleece the English

aristocracy out of fifteen million dollars.

From mercenary motives they enlisted in the cause of slavery to

destroy a friendly republican government. They had persistently

asserted that a constitutional democracy like ours must ultimately

fail to secure the rights and liberties of the people,--that internal

war would crumble it into ruins like the ancient republics; and now

they thought the fulfilment of their prophecy so near at hand it was

unnecessary longer to disguise their hatred, and openly gave their

"aid and comfort" to the enemy, jeering at our efforts and denouncing

our measures to maintain our existence among the nations. They

ventured their money on the doubtful issue and lost, and now so

lugubriously bewail their folly as to make themselves ridiculous in

the eyes of the world, and the laughing-stock of the American people.

[Illustration: Patriot Orphan Home, Flushing, L. I.]

CHAPTER XXXIII.

SURRENDER OF LEE.

[Sidenote: April, 1865.]

At three o'clock Monday morning, April 3d, Wilcox's division of the

Ninth Corps entered Petersburg just in season to see the rear guard of

Lee's army disappear over the hills on the north bank of the

Appomattox, having burned the bridges and destroyed all the supplies

which could not be transported. Lee's army was divided,--Longstreet,

Pickett, and Johnson being south of the stream, fifteen miles west of

the city. Gordon, Mahone, Ewell, and Elzy, with the immense trains of

supplies and batteries from Richmond, were north of the river,--all

moving southwest, towards Danville, with the intention of joining

Johnston in North Carolina.

"Good by, boys," said the women of Petersburg, some sorrowfully;

others more joyful cried, "We'll drink pure coffee, with sugar in it,

to-morrow. No more hard times."[107] They were weary of war. The

troops passed through the town in silence and dejection. It was a

sorrowful march. The successive disasters of Sunday, the sudden

breaking up, the destruction of property, the scenes of the night,

soon had their effect upon the spirits of the army. Soldiers slipped

from the ranks, disappeared in the woods, and threw away their

muskets, sick at heart, and disgusted with war. Virginia soldiers had

little inclination to abandon the Old Dominion and fight in North

Carolina. They were State-rights men,--each State for itself. If

Secession could cut loose from the Union, why not from the

Confederacy?

[Footnote 107: Lee's Last Campaign, p. 26.]

Before noon the troops moving from Petersburg, and those retreating

from Richmond, with all the baggage-trains and flying citizens, came

together on the Chesterfield road, producing confusion and delay. Had

Lee thrown his supply trains upon the Lynchburg road, and made a day's

march farther west with his army, instead of taking the nearest road

to Danville, he probably would have escaped; but his progress was very

slow. The roads were soft, the wagons overloaded. The stalling of a

single horse in the advance delayed the whole army.

The teamsters were quite as unwilling to go south as the soldiers.

They were expecting every moment to hear the ringing shouts of

Sheridan's men charging upon their flank or rear. There were frequent

panics, which set them into a fever of excitement, and added to the

confusion.

Grant determined to prevent Lee's escape if possible. The Ninth Corps

was detailed to hold the town, guard the railroad, reconstruct it, and

follow the other corps as a reserve. The Second, Fifth, and Sixth

Corps, instead of crossing the river were sent upon the double-quick

along the road which runs between the Appomattox and the South Side

Railroad.

Ord, with the divisions of the Twenty-Fourth and Twenty-Fifth Corps,

marched for Burkesville Junction. Sheridan, being in advance with the

cavalry, reached Jettersville, on the Richmond and Danville road,

forty-four miles from Richmond, on the 4th, tore up the track,

intrenched his position, and waited for the infantry. Meade joined him

on the morning of the 5th, while Ord, by a forced march, reached

Burkesville, south of Sheridan.

Lee crossed the Appomattox at Clemenstown, moved southwest to Amelia

Court-House, where he was joined by Longstreet's, Pickett's, and

Johnson's troops. The Appomattox has its rise in Prince Edward county,

runs northeast, approaching within fifteen miles of the James, then

turns southeast, and joins the James at Petersburg.

[Illustration: Surrender of General Lee.]

The bridge at Clemenstown, on which Lee crossed was narrow and unsafe,

and the army was much hindered. Had he not crossed at all, but marched

round the bend instead, he might have slipped past Sheridan while that

officer was waiting at Jettersville for Meade to join him. On the 5th

Meade, finding that he was ahead of Lee, instead of marching west,

turned northeast, and swept up the railroad toward Amelia, with the

Fifth Corps on the right, the Second in the centre, and the Sixth on

the left with the cavalry. Lee, seeing that he could not go down the

railroad, instead of marching southwest, as he had done the day

before, moved directly west, to give Meade the slip if possible. He

abandoned wagons, caissons, and forage, and everything that impeded

his march.

The Rebels had reached their Bull Run. The trains from Richmond were

crossing the bridge when a panic set in. "While we were gazing," says

a Rebel writer, "at the wagons moving up from the bridge and entering

the road leading to the Court-House, our ears caught the sound of five

or six shots in succession; and, looking in the direction whence the

sound came, we perceived two or three horsemen emerge from a wood

about half a mile distant, and as quickly retire. We could not discern

their uniform, but the supposition was, of course, that they were a

part of Sheridan's cavalry. There was a slight confusion at the head

of the train, and then a halt. 'The Yankees! Sheridan!' As the cry

echoed from man to man, the teamsters began to turn their mules

towards the river, many involving themselves with those in their rear,

while others dismounted and sought the nearest wood. In five minutes

the scene had been changed from quiet to the utmost disorder. The

wagons were turned back with astonishing rapidity, each teamster

unmercifully lashing his jaded animals, as anxious to reach the other

side as an hour before he had been to get to this. The cavalry, who

had been scattered over the fields cooking or eating their breakfasts,

now caught the alarm, and leaving their rations grasped their bridles,

mounted, and spurred their horses towards the bridge. For this point

all were aiming, and the foot-sore infantry now seemed to have but a

poor chance of life in the road now jammed with wagons, mules, and

mounted men. The narrow defile, bounded on either side by tall rocks,

was filled with horses, wagons, and men, all unable to advance a foot

toward the desired point.... Upon the other side (north) the panic was

even greater, the rumor prevailing that five hundred Yankees were in

our front, and that a large number of our wagons had been captured and

burned. Vainly plunging their sharp spurs into the steaming flanks of

the poor mules, and still unable to make them trot through the mud and

up the steep hills, the teamsters cut loose the traces, and

remounting would gallop away, flourishing their long whips, yelling,

and urging their horses to the utmost speed. Forsaking the road, they

leaped the fences, thronged the fields, and sought the wood for

hiding-places.... Scores of broken-down and wrecked wagons and

ambulances were overturned and abandoned, their contents being strewed

over the road; corn and oats, meal and flour covered the ground, while

quartermaster's papers were scattered in every direction. Clothing and

even medicinal stores had been in like manner thrown away."[108]

[Footnote 108: Rebel Courier's Experience.]

When General Meade discovered Lee's new movement, he wheeled toward

the left, and faced the Second and Fifth Corps northwest. The Fifth

Corps moved up to Painesville, which is northwest of Amelia; but

Griffin, commanding, was too late to strike Lee, whose rear-guard had

passed that point. The Second Corps moved through Deatonville, which

is five miles west of Jettersville, while the Sixth Corps, moving

southwest, came upon the Rebels on Little Sailor's Creek, a small

tributary of the Appomattox, running north. The Twenty-Fourth Corps

meanwhile, marching from Burkesville up the railroad, joined the Sixth

Corps at the head of the creek.

Early in the morning of the 6th General Ord directed that the

Petersburg and Lynchburg Railroad bridge across the Appomattox be

seized and held if possible; if not able to hold it, the troops were

to destroy it. The Fifty-Fourth Pennsylvania and One Hundred and

Twenty-Third Ohio were sent to do the work. They moved toward the

river, but suddenly found themselves on the right flank of Lee's army,

which, was in line of battle, between Sailor's Creek and the

Appomattox.

Lee made a stand at this point to save his trains. He was still hoping

to reach Danville. If he could fight a successful battle, his wagons

would have time to slip away from Sheridan. He had already been forced

ten miles out of his direct line of march, and if he failed here he

must give up all expectation of reaching Danville, and strike west

towards Lynchburg.

His army stood on the west bank of Sailors' Creek, facing east and

southeast, behind intrenchments, with the Appomattox, which here runs

northeast, behind him.

Walking along the Union lines we see that the Fifth Corps is not yet

up from its long _detour_ north toward Painesville, but the Second

Corps is approaching the creek four miles above its junction with the

Appomattox. One division of cavalry is on its right flank, reaching

down to the river. The Sixth Corps is on the left of the Second,

facing west. There is a break in the line as we go towards Ord's

command, which is near Burkesville, facing northwest, with Sheridan's

cavalry on both flanks.

The forenoon was passed in skirmishing on the part of the Union

troops. The regiments sent to seize the bridge were not able to

accomplish the task, and were driven with severe loss. But now the

Second Corps came up, a foothold was gained across the creek, and

Lee's left flank was forced towards the river.

It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon before the Sixth Corps

came up with the Rebels. This corps had been marching southwest; but

when the skirmishers discovered the enemy, Wright halted Seymour's

division, which was in advance, faced it west, while Wheaton's

division filed past Seymour's and took position on the left. The third

division was in reserve. The cavalry was on the left of Wheaton.

Sheridan found himself confronted by Ewell's and Kershaw's divisions,

which were strongly intrenched.

Seymour and Wheaton moved from the road west, went down the steep

declivity into the ravine, receiving the fire of the Rebels without

flinching, crossed the creek, ascended the other bank, and dashed upon

the intrenchments. At the same moment Custar's division of cavalry

advanced with sabres drawn, their horses upon the run, goaded with

spur and quickened by shout, till they caught the wild enthusiasm of

their riders, and horses and men unitedly became as fiery Centaurs,

the earth trembling beneath the tread of the thousands of hoofs, the

air resounding with bugle-blasts and thrilling cheers!

The charge of this division was heroic. The Rebel artillery opened

with shells, followed by canister. The infantry, protected by

breastworks, were able to give a galling fire, but the squadrons swept

everything before them, leaping the intrenchments, sabring all who

resisted, crushing the whole of Lee's right wing by a single blow,

gathering up thousands of prisoners, who stood as if paralyzed by the

tremendous shock.

Entire regiments threw down their arms. Miles of wagons, caissons,

ambulances, forges, arms, ammunition,--all that belonged to that

portion of the line, was lost to Lee in a moment. Generals Ewell,

Kershaw, Defoe, Barton, Custis Lee, Borden, and Corse were prisoners

almost before they knew it.

"Further fighting is useless; it will be a waste of life," said Ewell

to Custar.

"Bravely done, Custar," said Sheridan, riding up, and complimenting

his lieutenant in the presence of the whole division.

It was through the co-operation of the other cavalry divisions,

Crook's and Devens's and Merritt's, and of the Sixth Corps, that

Custar was enabled to strike such a crushing blow. Honor is due to

all. Custar had his horse killed; Lieutenant Harwell, Captain

Barnhart, Lieutenant Narvall, Lieutenant Main, and Lieutenant Custar,

all belonging to his staff, also had their horses shot in the splendid

charge, which of itself proves that it was gallant and desperate.

Officers and men alike rushed upon the enemy, rivalling each other in

deeds of daring.

After receiving this paralyzing blow Lee gave up all hope of reaching

Danville. He could move only in the direction of Lynchburg. Caissons,

wagons, and ambulances were burned, cannon abandoned, commissary

supplies left by the roadside.

It was a day of jubilee to the colored people, who swarmed out from

their cabins and appropriated the plunder.

"'Pears like as if we were spiling the Egyptians," said an old man who

had gathered an immense pile of blankets and coats.

There was a skirmish at Farmville the next morning, between the

cavalry and the left wing of Lee's army. The centre, and what remained

of the right wing, crossed the Appomattox ten miles above

Farmville,--both columns moving to Appomattox Court-House, where Lee

hoped to unite his scattered forces.

Grant and Meade, with the Second and Sixth Corps, crossed at

Farmville, and followed Lee along the Petersburg and Lynchburg

turnpike. Ord, joined by the Fifth, starting from Burkesville, took

the shortest road to Appomattox Court-House, nearly fifty miles

distant, while Sheridan, with the main body of the cavalry, made a

rapid movement southwest to cut off Lee's retreat. The pursuit from

Sailors' Creek commenced on Friday morning, and Lee was brought to bay

Saturday noon.

It was an exciting race. There were frequent interchanges of shots

between the cavalry, hovering like a cloud upon Lee's flank, also

captures of abandoned wagons, ambulances, caissons, pieces of

artillery, and picking up of stragglers. Glimpses of the Rebel forces

were sometimes had across the ravines. As a sight of the flying deer

quickens the pursuit of the hound, so an occasional view of the flying

enemy roused the soldiers to a wild and irrepressible enthusiasm, and

their shouts and cheers rang long and loud through the surrounding

woodlands.

Appomattox Court-House is at the head-waters of the Appomattox River,

on the table-land between the rivulets which give rise to that stream

and the James River, which makes its great southern bend at Lynchburg.

The place is sometimes called Clover Hill. It is a small

village,--such as are to be seen throughout the Old Dominion,--one or

two good, substantial houses, surrounded by a dozen or twenty

miserable cabins.

Lee succeeded in reuniting his troops, numbering not more than a

division, such as once marched under his direction up the heights of

Gettysburg, or moved into the fight in the Wilderness; but when

reunited and ready to move upon Lynchburg, he found the cloud which

had hung upon his flank and rear now enveloping him on the north, the

east, the south, the west. Sheridan had swung past him, Ord and

Griffin were south of him, holding the road leading to Danville, while

Wright and Humphrey, east and north, were preparing to drive him over

against Sheridan, who in turn would toss him down towards Ord and

Griffin.

Great was the consternation in the Rebel ranks when, on Saturday

morning, the Rebels discovered that Sheridan was cutting off their

retreat to Lynchburg.

"Yankees at Appomattox! Sheridan!"[109] was the cry of a party of

Rebel officers on a locomotive, hastening to Lynchburg in season to

escape the Union cavalrymen then advancing to tear up the rails.

Sheridan pounced upon the artillery, and on the afternoon of the 8th

captured twenty-five pieces. Meade at the same time came upon the rear

of the Rebels a mile east of the Court-House, and captured a battery.

Lee's men were melting away, worn down by hard marching and fighting,

and discouraged by defeat and disaster. His provisions were getting

low, as the larger part of the supplies had been abandoned. His

condition was critical.

[Footnote 109: Rebel Courier's Experience.]

It was a gloomy night. A courier brought intelligence that Sheridan

had possession of Concord Station.

"We all felt," says a Rebel writer, "our hearts chilled by this new

rumor. Concord Station was between us and Lynchburg, and we had no

knowledge of any other road to that place than that which we were

pursuing. Turning back, our capture was inevitable. The generals

withdrew to consult, the staff officers conversed in low tones, while

the soldiers, teamsters, the cause being unknown, did not hesitate to

declare their impatience at the delay."[110]

[Footnote 110: Rebel Courier's Experience.]

Lee called his last council of war, summoning Longstreet, Pickett,

Gordon, and Hill. The condition of affairs was discussed. It was a sad

hour. Lee was much depressed. He did not know that the infantry under

Ord and Griffin were south of him, but supposed that his way was

disputed only by Sheridan. It was decided to force a passage. The

attack was made; but the volleys of musketry and the vigor of the

cannonade, and the long lines of men in blue, convinced him that he

had little chance of escaping. The skirmishing was kept up through the

day,--both parties too wearied and exhausted to fight a general

battle,--yet each moment of delay made Lee's condition more hopeless.

Grant had despatched a letter to Lee on the 7th, from Farmville,

asking the surrender of the army of Northern Virginia.

Lee replied the same day, asking for terms.

On the 8th Grant sent a second letter, insisting upon one condition

only: "That the men and officers shall be disqualified for taking up

arms against the United States until properly exchanged."

"I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for the surrender of

this army," Lee answered; but at the same time asked for an interview

at ten o'clock next morning. Sheridan had not closed all the roads to

Lynchburg, but was in such a position that it was impossible for Lee

to get away with his army. Breckenridge, with a large number of

officers and many thousands of privates, struck northwest, through

by-roads and fields, crossed James River, reached Lynchburg and passed

into North Carolina.

The Second Corps was in position on Sunday morning, waiting the order

to advance, when a flag of truce was displayed in front of Miles's

division. Captain J. D. Cook, of General Miles's staff, was sent to

receive it. He was met by Colonel Taylor, of Lee's staff, who brought

a note from Lee, wishing for a suspension of hostilities to take into

consideration the terms offered by General Grant on Saturday. General

Meade signified by note that he had no authority to enter into an

armistice, but would wait two hours before making an attack, and would

communicate with General Grant.

Before the expiration of the time General Grant arrived, and a

correspondence with Lee followed, which resulted in the appointment of

a place of meeting for a more full consideration of the terms proposed

by General Grant.

In the little village of Appomattox Court-House there is a large,

square brick house, with a portico in front, the residence of Wilmer

McLean. Roses were budding in the garden on that Sabbath morning,

violets and daffodils were already in bloom, and the trees which

shaded the dwelling were green with the verdure of spring. General Lee

designated it as the place for meeting General Grant. It was a little

past two o'clock in the afternoon when General Lee, accompanied by

General Marshall, his chief of staff, entered the house. A few minutes

later General Grant arrived, accompanied only by Colonel Parker, of

his staff, chief of the Six Nations.

The meeting was in the parlor,--a square room, carpeted, furnished

with a sofa and centre-table. Lee, dressed in a suit of gray, was

sitting by the table when Grant entered. Time had silvered his hair

and beard. He wore an elegant sword, a gift from his friends.

General Grant had left his sword behind, and appeared in the same suit

he had worn in the field through the eventful days,--a plain blue

frock, with double row of buttons, and shoulder-straps bearing the

three silver stars, the insignia of his rank as Lieutenant-General.

The meeting was cordial. After salutations the two commanders sat

down, placed their hats on the table, and conversed as freely as in

other days when both were in the service of the United States. General

Lee alluded to the correspondence which had passed between them.

"General, I have requested this interview, to know more fully the

terms which you propose," said General Lee.

General Grant replied that he would grant a parole to officers and

men, and that the officers might retain their side-arms and their

personal effects. General Lee assented to the proposition, and did not

ask for any modification of the terms, which were then engrossed. The

paper was signed by General Lee at half past three o'clock.

After he had affixed his signature, General Lee asked for General

Grant's understanding of the term "personal effects" which had been

used in the instrument.

"Many of my cavalrymen own their horses," he said.

"I think that the horses must be turned over to the United States,"

was the reply.

"I coincide in that opinion," was Lee's rejoinder.

"But," said General Grant, "I will instruct the officers who are

appointed to carry out the capitulation to allow those who own horses

to take them home. They will need them to do their spring ploughing

and to till their farms."

"Allow me to express my thanks for such consideration and generosity

on your part. It cannot fail of having a good effect," General Lee

replied with emotion.

After further conversation General Lee expressed a hope that each

soldier of his army might be furnished with a certificate, or some

other evidence of parole, to prevent them from being forced into

further service by Confederate conscripting officers.

[Illustration: General Lee's Farewell.]

"I will order such certificates to be issued to every man," said

General Grant; and as soon as the preliminaries were settled, the

head-quarters printing-press was put to work striking off blanks for

that purpose.

"My army is short of rations," said Lee.

"You shall be supplied," and an order was at once issued to the

commissary to furnish rations to the prisoners.

The question of terms had been discussed the evening previous around

Grant's camp-fire. Grant stated that he wanted such a surrender as

would break down the positions which France and England had taken in

recognizing the Rebels as belligerents. He did not wish for

humiliating terms. He would not require a formal grounding of arms.

The Rebels were Americans, and his object was to restore them to the

Union and not to degrade them.

Lee returned to his army and stated the terms of capitulation, which

were received with great satisfaction, especially by those who owned

horses. They cheered loudly, and no doubt heartily. The terms were

such as they had not expected. The newspapers of the South had

persistently represented the men of the North as bloodthirsty and

vindictive,--as vandals, robbers, and murderers,--capable of doing the

work of fiends, and the remarkable leniency of Grant surprised them.

The terms were not altogether acceptable to Grant's army. Many of the

officers remembered that General Pickett never had resigned his

commission in the United States service, but that he had taken up arms

against the country without any scruples of conscience. He was a

deserter and a traitor, found in arms. The soldiers remembered that

scores of their comrades had been shot or hung for deserting the

ranks; the utmost leniency of the government was a long term of

imprisonment in a penitentiary or confinement on the Dry Tortugas.

Sentinels had been shot for falling asleep while on duty; yet General

Pickett and his fellow-traitors were, by the terms of the parole,

granted an indulgence which was equivalent to a pardon. It was General

Pickett who hung the Union men of North Carolina who had enlisted in

the service of the Union, but who, under the fortunes of war, had

fallen into his hands. In General Pickett's estimation they had

committed an unpardonable crime. He considered them as citizens of the

Confederacy, and hung them upon the nearest tree. It was cold-blooded

murder. But his desertion, treason, inhumanity, and murders were

offset by the plea that the North could afford to be magnanimous to a

conquered foe! The soldiers idolized Grant as a commander. They had no

objection to his terms with the privates of Lee's army, but there was

dissent from including Pickett and Ewell, and other Rebel officers who

had been notoriously inhuman to Union soldiers. The Rebel soldiers

were generally humane towards prisoners, especially after the first

year of the war. Many instances might be cited of their kindness to

the wounded on the battle-field and to prisoners in their hands. The

officers in the field were also kind, but the political leaders, the

women, and officers in charge of prisons were cruel and vindictive.

The hour came for Lee to part with his officers. He retained his

calmness and composure, but they could not refrain from shedding

tears. It was to be their last meeting. He was to lead them no more in

battle.

The occasion brought before them an acute sense that all was

over,--all lost; their sacrifices, sufferings, heroism, had been in

vain; their pride was humbled; instead of being victors, they were

vanquished; history and the impartial verdict of mankind perhaps would

hold them responsible for the blood which had been shed. It was a sad

hour to that body of men in gray, wearing the stars of a perished

Confederacy.

The intelligence of the capitulation was communicated to Grant's army

by bulletin. As the news flew along the lines on that Sabbath morning,

the cheering was prolonged and vociferous. For the first time in four

years the veterans who had toiled in the mud of the Peninsula, who had

been beaten back from Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, who had

stood like a wall of adamant on the banks of the Antietam, and the

heights of Gettysburg, who had pressed Lee from the Wilderness to Five

Forks, who had brought him to bay at last, were to have a peaceful

night.

Their fighting was over, and there was to be no more charging of

batteries; nor long watchings in the trenches, drenched by rains,

parched by summer heat, or numbed by the frosts of winter; no more

scenes of blood, of wasting away in hospitals, or murders and

starvation in Rebel prisons. It was the hour of peace. In the radiant

light of that Sabbath sun they could rejoice in the thought that they

had once more a reunited country; that an abject people had been

redeemed from slavery; that the honor of the nation had been

vindicated; that the flag which traitors had trailed in the dust at

the beginning of the conflict was more than ever the emblem of the

world's best hopes.

[Illustration: Study for a statue of Lincoln.]

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CONCLUSION.

[Sidenote: April, 1865.]

Day was breaking on the 12th of April, when General Grant, accompanied

by his staff, alighted from the cars at City Point, after a tedious

night ride from Burkesville. He walked slowly up the steep bank to his

head-quarters, not with the air of a conqueror, but as if sleep and

rest would be far more acceptable than the congratulations of a noisy

crowd. Four years had passed since he left his quiet home in Illinois,

a humble citizen, unknown beyond his village borders; but now his name

was inseparably connected with a great moral convulsion, world-wide in

its influence, enduring as time in its results. The mighty conflict of

ideas had swept round the globe like a tidal wave of the ocean.

Industry had been quickened in every land, and new channels of trade

opened among the nations. Wherever human language was spoken, men

talked of the war between Slavery and Freedom, and aspirations for

good were awakened in the hearts of toiling millions in Europe, on the

burning sands of Africa, and in the jungles of Hindostan, to whom life

was bare existence and the future ever hopeless.

[Illustration: Assassination of Lincoln.]

The four years of fighting were over; the Rebellion was subdued. On

the first of April Lee had a large army, but suddenly he had been

overwhelmed. That which seemed so formidable had disappeared like a

bubble in the sunshine. Though the Rebels saw that the Confederacy was

threatened as it had not been at any other period of the war, there

were few, if any, who, up to the latest hour, dreamed that there could

be such an overturning of affairs. That Lee had held his ground so

long was a warranty that he could successfully resist all Grant's

efforts to take Richmond. The Confederate Congress met daily in the

capital, passed resolutions, enacted laws, and debated questions of

state, as if the Confederacy had a place among the nations, with

centuries of prosperity and glory in prospect. But their performance

came to an unexpected end. The last act of the tragedy was given on

the 14th,--the assassination of the President.

What drama surpasses it in interest? What period of the world's

history is more replete with great events affecting the welfare of the

human race? In 1861, when the curtain rose, the world beheld a nation,

peaceful, happy, prosperous. Then came the spectacle,--the procession

of seceding States, with bugles sounding, colors flying, the

bombardment of Sumter; the uprising of the people of the North, the

drum-beat heard in every village, flags floating from all the

steeples, streamers and banners from all the house-tops, great

battles, defeat, and victory; a ploughman and splitter of rails the

liberator of the enslaved, their enlistment as soldiers of the

Republic; the patriotism of the people; woman's work of love and

mercy; the ghastly scenes in Southern prisons, the conflagration of

cities set on fire by the Rebels, the breaking up of the Confederacy,

the assassination, the capture of the Rebel chief, the return of the

victorious armies, the last grand military pageant at Washington, and

then the retirement of the soldiers to peaceful life! Sublime the

picture!

The conflict commenced as a rebellion, but ended in revolution.

Slavery has disappeared. Civil liberty is stronger than in 1861. Four

millions of freedmen are candidates for citizenship, who at the

beginning of the Rebellion had no rights under the flag of the Union.

"Slaves rise up men; the olive waves,

With roots deep set in battle graves."

The Rebellion was an attempt to suppress Truth and Justice by tyranny.

The effort might have been successful in earlier ages, but not in the

nineteenth century, and never will the attempt be repeated on American

soil, for the tendency of mind is towards a clearer perception of the

rights of man. America uttered her protest against despotic power in

1776. "It was an experiment," said the aristocracies of Europe. The

"republican bubble has burst," said Earl Russell in 1861; but the

Republic lives, and the false and ignoble distinctions in the society

of the Old World, which slavery attempted to establish in the New,

have been reversed. America teaches this truth to the wondering

nations,--that the strongest government rests, not on the few, not on

property, never on injustice, but on the people, on diffused wealth

and enlightened mind, on obligation to man and God.

Kings will yet lay aside their sceptres, and subjects will become

sovereigns, because the people of America, by example, have shown the

world that civil and religious liberty for all, as well as for the

few, is of more value than human life.

How lavish the expenditure of blood! How generous the outpouring of

the wine of life by the heroic dead!

"Song of peace, nor battle's roar,

Ne'er shall break their slumbers more;

Death shall keep his solemn trust,

'Earth to earth, and dust to dust.'"

Dead, yet living. Their patriotism, sacrifice, endurance, patience,

faith, and hope can never die. Loved and lamented, but immortal. Paeans

for the living, dirges for the dead. Their work is done, not for an

hour, a day, a year, but for all time; not for fame or ambition, but

for the poor, the degraded, the oppressed of all lands, for

civilization and Christianity, for the welfare of the human race

through Time and Eternity!

End of Project Gutenberg's The Boys of '61, by Charles Carleton Coffin