Were I fastidiously anxious for the symmetry of this book, it would
close with the notes. But the times are such that patriotism—not free
from solicitude—urges a claim overriding all literary scruples.
It is more than a year since the memorable surrender, but events have
not yet rounded themselves into completion. Not justly can we complain
of this. There has been an upheaval affecting the basis of things; to
altered circumstances complicated adaptations are to be made; there are
difficulties great and novel. But is Reason still waiting for Passion
to spend itself? We have sung of the soldiers and sailors, but who
shall hymn the politicians?
In view of the infinite desirableness of Re-establishment, and
considering that, so far as feeling is concerned, it depends not mainly
on the temper in which the South regards the North, but rather
conversely; one who never was a blind adherent feels constrained to
submit some thoughts, counting on the indulgence of his countrymen.
And, first, it may be said that, if among the feelings and opinions
growing immediately out of a great civil convulsion, there are any
which time shall modify or do away, they are presumably those of a less
temperate and charitable cast.
There seems no reason why patriotism and narrowness should go together,
or why intellectual impartiality should be confounded with political
trimming, or why serviceable truth should keep cloistered because not
partisan. Yet the work of Reconstruction, if admitted to be feasible at
all, demands little but common sense and Christian charity. Little but
these? These are much.
Some of us are concerned because as yet the South shows no penitence.
But what exactly do we mean by this? Since down to the close of the war
she never confessed any for braving it, the only penitence now left her
is that which springs solely from the sense of discomfiture; and since
this evidently would be a contrition hypocritical, it would be unworthy
in us to demand it. Certain it is that penitence, in the sense of
voluntary humiliation, will never be displayed. Nor does this afford
just ground for unreserved condemnation. It is enough, for all
practical purposes, if the South have been taught by the terrors of
civil war to feel that Secession, like Slavery, is against Destiny;
that both now lie buried in one grave; that her fate is linked with
ours; and that together we comprise the Nation.
The clouds of heroes who battled for the Union it is needless to
eulogize here. But how of the soldiers on the other side? And when of a
free community we name the soldiers, we thereby name the people. It was
in subserviency to the slave-interest that Secession was plotted; but
it was under the plea, plausibly urged, that certain inestimable rights
guaranteed by the Constitution were directly menaced, that the people
of the South were cajoled into revolution. Through the arts of the
conspirators and the perversity of fortune, the most sensitive love of
liberty was entrapped into the support of a war whose implied end was
the erecting in our advanced century of an Anglo-American empire based
upon the systematic degradation of man.
Spite this clinging reproach, however, signal military virtues and
achievements have conferred upon the Confederate arms historic fame,
and upon certain of the commanders a renown extending beyond the sea—a
renown which we of the North could not suppress, even if we would. In
personal character, also, not a few of the military leaders of the
South enforce forbearance; the memory of others the North refrains from
disparaging; and some, with more or less of reluctance, she can
respect. Posterity, sympathizing with our convictions, but removed from
our passions, may perhaps go farther here. If George IV could, out of
the graceful instinct of a gentleman, raise an honorable monument in
the great fane of Christendom over the remains of the enemy of his
dynasty, Charles Edward, the invader of England and victor in the rout
of Preston Pans—upon whose head the king’s ancestor but one reign
removed had set a price—is it probable that the granchildren of General
Grant will pursue with rancor, or slur by sour neglect, the memory of
Stonewall Jackson?
But the South herself is not wanting in recent histories and
biographies which record the deeds of her chieftains—writings freely
published at the North by loyal houses, widely read here, and with a
deep though saddened interest. By students of the war such works are
hailed as welcome accessories, and tending to the completeness of the
record.
Supposing a happy issue out of present perplexities, then, in the
generation next to come, Southerners there will be yielding allegiance
to the Union, feeling all their interests bound up in it, and yet
cherishing unrebuked that kind of feeling for the memory of the
soldiers of the fallen Confederacy that Burns, Scott, and the Ettrick
Shepherd felt for the memory of the gallant clansmen ruined through
their fidelity to the Stuarts—a feeling whose passion was tempered by
the poetry imbuing it, and which in no wise affected their loyalty to
the Georges, and which, it may be added, indirectly contributed
excellent things to literature. But, setting this view aside,
dishonorable would it be in the South were she willing to abandon to
shame the memory of brave men who with signal personal
disinterestedness warred in her behalf, though from motives, as we
believe, so deplorably astray.
Patriotism is not baseness, neither is it inhumanity. The mourners who
this summer bear flowers to the mounds of the Virginian and Georgian
dead are, in their domestic bereavement and proud affection, as sacred
in the eye of Heaven as are those who go with similar offerings of
tender grief and love into the cemeteries of our Northern martyrs. And
yet, in one aspect, how needless to point the contrast.
Cherishing such sentiments, it will hardly occasion surprise that, in
looking over the battle-pieces in the foregoing collection, I have been
tempted to withdraw or modify some of them, fearful lest in presenting,
though but dramatically and by way of poetic record, the passions and
epithets of civil war, I might be contributing to a bitterness which
every sensible American must wish at an end. So, too, with the emotion
of victory as reproduced on some pages, and particularly toward the
close. It should not be construed into an exultation misapplied—an
exultation as ungenerous as unwise, and made to minister, however
indirectly, to that kind of censoriousness too apt to be produced in
certain natures by success after trying reverses. Zeal is not of
necessity religion, neither is it always of the same essence with
poetry or patriotism.
There are excesses which marked the conflict, most of which are perhaps
inseparable from a civil strife so intense and prolonged, and involving
warfare in some border countries new and imperfectly civilized.
Barbarities also there were, for which the Southern people collectively
can hardly be held responsible, though perpetrated by ruffians in their
name. But surely other qualities—exalted ones—courage and fortitude
matchless, were likewise displayed, and largely; and justly may these
be held the characteristic traits, and not the former.
In this view, what Northern writer, however patriotic, but must revolt
from acting on paper a part any way akin to that of the live dog to the
dead lion; and yet it is right to rejoice for our triumphs, so far as
it may justly imply an advance for our whole country and for humanity.
Let it be held no reproach to any one that he pleads for reasonable
consideration for our late enemies, now stricken down and unavoidably
debarred, for the time, from speaking through authorized agencies for
themselves. Nothing has been urged here in the foolish hope of
conciliating those men—few in number, we trust—who have resolved never
to be reconciled to the Union. On such hearts everything is thrown away
except it be religious commiseration, and the sincerest. Yet let them
call to mind that unhappy Secessionist, not a military man, who with
impious alacrity fired the first shot of the Civil War at Sumter, and a
little more than four years afterward fired the last one into his heart
at Richmond.
Noble was the gesture into which patriotic passion surprised the people
in a utilitarian time and country; yet the glory of the war falls short
of its pathos—a pathos which now at last ought to disarm all animosity.
How many and earnest thoughts still rise, and how hard to repress them.
We feel what past years have been, and years, unretarded years, shall
come. May we all have moderation; may we all show candor. Though,
perhaps, nothing could ultimately have averted the strife, and though
to treat of human actions is to deal wholly with second causes,
nevertheless, let us not cover up or try to extenuate what, humanly
speaking, is the truth—namely, that those unfraternal denunciations,
continued through years, and which at last inflamed to deeds that ended
in bloodshed, were reciprocal; and that, had the preponderating
strength and the prospect of its unlimited increase lain on the other
side, on ours might have lain those actions which now in our late
opponents we stigmatize under the name of Rebellion. As frankly let us
own—what it would be unbecoming to parade were foreigners concerned—
that our triumph was won not more by skill and bravery than by superior
resources and crushing numbers; that it was a triumph, too, over a
people for years politically misled by designing men, and also by some
honestly-erring men, who from their position could not have been
otherwise than broadly influential; a people who, though, indeed, they
sought to perpetuate the curse of slavery, and even extend it, were not
the authors of it, but (less fortunate, not less righteous than we),
were the fated inheritors; a people who, having a like origin with
ourselves, share essentially in whatever worthy qualities we may
possess. No one can add to the lasting reproach which hopeless defeat
has now cast upon Secession by withholding the recognition of these
verities.
Surely we ought to take it to heart that that kind of pacification,
based upon principles operating equally all over the land, which lovers
of their country yearn for, and which our arms, though signally
triumphant, did not bring about, and which lawmaking, however anxious,
or energetic, or repressive, never by itself can achieve, may yet be
largely aided by generosity of sentiment public and private. Some
revisionary legislation and adaptive is indispensable; but with this
should harmoniously work another kind of prudence, not unallied with
entire magnanimity. Benevolence and policy—Christianity and
Machiavelli—dissuade from penal severities toward the subdued.
Abstinence here is as obligatory as considerate care for our
unfortunate fellowmen late in bonds, and, if observed, would equally
prove to be wise forecast. The great qualities of the South, those
attested in the War, we can perilously alienate, or we may make them
nationally available at need.
The blacks, in their infant pupilage to freedom, appeal to the
sympathies of every humane mind. The paternal guardianship which for
the interval government exercises over them was prompted equally by
duty and benevolence. Yet such kindliness should not be allowed to
exclude kindliness to communities who stand nearer to us in nature. For
the future of the freed slaves we may well be concerned; but the future
of the whole country, involving the future of the blacks, urges a
paramount claim upon our anxiety. Effective benignity, like the Nile,
is not narrow in its bounty, and true policy is always broad. To be
sure, it is vain to seek to glide, with moulded words, over the
difficulties of the situation. And for them who are neither partisans,
nor enthusiasts, nor theorists, nor cynics, there are some doubts not
readily to be solved. And there are fears. Why is not the cessation of
war now at length attended with the settled calm of peace? Wherefore in
a clear sky do we still turn our eyes toward the South as the
Neapolitan, months after the eruption, turns his toward Vesuvius? Do we
dread lest the repose may be deceptive? In the recent convulsion has
the crater but shifted Let us revere that sacred uncertainty which
forever impends over men and nations. Those of us who always abhorred
slavery as an atheistical iniquity, gladly we join in the exulting
chorus of humanity over its downfall. But we should remember that
emancipation was accomplished not by deliberate legislation; only
through agonized violence could so mighty a result be effected. In our
natural solicitude to confirm the benefit of liberty to the blacks, let
us forbear from measures of dubious constitutional rightfulness toward
our white countrymen—measures of a nature to provoke, among other of
the last evils, exterminating hatred of race toward race. In
imagination let us place ourselves in the unprecedented position of the
Southerners—their position as regards the millions of ignorant
manumitted slaves in their midst, for whom some of us now claim the
suffrage. Let us be Christians toward our fellow-whites, as well as
philanthropists toward the blacks, our fellow-men. In all things, and
toward all, we are enjoined to do as we would be done by. Nor should we
forget that benevolent desires, after passing a certain point, can not
undertake their own fulfillment without incurring the risk of evils
beyond those sought to be remedied. Something may well be left to the
graduated care of future legislation, and to heaven. In one point of
view the co-existence of the two races in the South, whether the negro
be bond or free, seems (even as it did to Abraham Lincoln) a grave
evil. Emancipation has ridded the country of the reproach, but not
wholly of the calamity. Especially in the present transition period for
both races in the South, more or less of trouble may not unreasonably
be anticipated; but let us not hereafter be too swift to charge the
blame exclusively in any one quarter. With certain evils men must be
more or less patient. Our institutions have a potent digestion, and may
in time convert and assimilate to good all elements thrown in, however
originally alien.
But, so far as immediate measures looking toward permanent Re-
establishment are concerned, no consideration should tempt us to
pervert the national victory into oppression for the vanquished. Should
plausible promise of eventual good, or a deceptive or spurious sense of
duty, lead us to essay this, count we must on serious consequences, not
the least of which would be divisions among the Northern adherents of
the Union. Assuredly, if any honest Catos there be who thus far have
gone with us, no longer will they do so, but oppose us, and as
resolutely as hitherto they have supported. But this path of thought
leads toward those waters of bitterness from which one can only turn
aside and be silent.
But supposing Re-establishment so far advanced that the Southern seats
in Congress are occupied, and by men qualified in accordance with those
cardinal principles of representative government which hitherto have
prevailed in the land—what then? Why, the Congressmen elected by the
people of the South will—represent the people of the South. This may
seem a flat conclusion; but, in view of the last five years, may there
not be latent significance in it? What will be the temper of those
Southern members? and, confronted by them, what will be the mood of our
own representatives? In private life true reconciliation seldom follows
a violent quarrel; but, if subsequent intercourse be unavoidable, nice
observances and mutual are indispensable to the prevention of a new
rupture. Amity itself can only be maintained by reciprocal respect, and
true friends are punctilious equals. On the floor of Congress North and
South are to come together after a passionate duel, in which the South,
though proving her valor, has been made to bite the dust. Upon
differences in debate shall acrimonious recriminations be exchanged?
Shall censorious superiority assumed by one section provoke defiant
self-assertion on the other? Shall Manassas and Chickamauga be retorted
for Chattanooga and Richmond? Under the supposition that the full
Congress will be composed of gentlemen, all this is impossible. Yet, if
otherwise, it needs no prophet of Israel to foretell the end. The
maintenance of Congressional decency in the future will rest mainly
with the North. Rightly will more forbearance be required from the
North than the South, for the North is victor.
But some there are who may deem these latter thoughts inapplicable, and
for this reason: Since the test-oath operatively excludes from Congress
all who in any way participated in Secession, therefore none but
Southerners wholly in harmony with the North are eligible to seats.
This is true for the time being. But the oath is alterable; and in the
wonted fluctuations of parties not improbably it will undergo
alteration, assuming such a form, perhaps, as not to bar the admission
into the National Legislature of men who represent the populations
lately in revolt. Such a result would involve no violation of the
principles of democratic government. Not readily can one perceive how
the political existence of the millions of late Secessionists can
permanently be ignored by this Republic. The years of the war tried our
devotion to the Union; the time of peace may test the sincerity of our
faith in democracy.
In no spirit of opposition, not by way of challenge, is anything here
thrown out. These thoughts are sincere ones; they seem natural—
inevitable. Here and there they must have suggested themselves to many
thoughtful patriots. And, if they be just thoughts, ere long they must
have that weight with the public which already they have had with
individuals.
For that heroic band—those children of the furnace who, in regions like
Texas and Tennessee, maintained their fidelity through terrible
trials—we of the North felt for them, and profoundly we honor them. Yet
passionate sympathy, with resentments so close as to be almost domestic
in their bitterness, would hardly in the present juncture tend to
discreet legislation. Were the Unionists and Secessionists but as
Guelphs and Ghibellines? If not, then far be it from a great nation now
to act in the spirit that animated a triumphant town-faction in the
Middle Ages. But crowding thoughts must at last be checked; and, in
times like the present, one who desires to be impartially just in the
expression of his views, moves as among sword-points presented on every
side.
Let us pray that the terrible historic tragedy of our time may not have
been enacted without instructing our whole beloved country through
terror and pity; and may fulfillment verify in the end those
expectations which kindle the bards of Progress and Humanity.