THE CLOSING OF THE RANKS
A wave of fierce anger swept the North. The fall of Sumter was the one
topic on every lip. Men stopped their trade, their work, their play and
looked about them for the nearest rallying ground of soldiers.
The President of the United States was quick to seize the favorable
moment to call for 75,000 volunteers. That these troops were to fight
the Confederacy was not questioned for a moment.
The effect of this proclamation on the South was a political earthquake.
In a single day all differences of opinion were sunk in the common
cause. A feeling of profound wonder swept every thoughtful man within
the Southern States. To this moment, even a majority of those who
favored the policy of secession had done so under the belief that it was
the surest way of securing redress of grievances and of bringing the
Federal Government back to its original Constitutional principles. Many
of them believed, and all of their leaders in authority hoped, that a
re-formation of the Union would soon take place in peaceful ways on the
basis of the new Constitution proclaimed at Montgomery. Many Northern
newspapers, led by the New York _Herald_, had advocated this course. The
hope of the majority of the Southern people was steadfast that the Union
would thus be continued and strengthened, and made more perfect, as it
had been in 1789 after the withdrawal of nine States from the Old Union
by the adoption of the Constitution of 1787.
Abraham Lincoln's proclamation shattered all hope of such peaceful
adjustment.
Thousands of the best men in Virginia and North Carolina had voted
against secession. Not one of them, in the face of this proclamation,
would dispute longer with their brethren. Whatever they might think
about the expediency of withdrawing from the Union, they were absolutely
clear on two points. The President of the United States had no power
under the charter of our Government to declare war. Congress only could
do that. If the Cotton States were out of the Union, his act was illegal
because the usurpation of supreme power. If they were yet in the Union,
the raising of an army to invade their homes was a plain violation of
the Constitution.
The heart of the South beat as one man. The cause of the war had been
suddenly shifted to a broader and deeper foundation about which no
possible difference could ever again arise in the Southern States.
The demand for soldiers to invade the South was a bugle call to Southern
manhood to fight for their liberties and defend their homes. It gave
even to the staunchest Union men of the Old South the overt act of an
open breach of the Constitution. From the moment Abraham Lincoln
proclaimed a war without the act of Congress, from that moment he became
a dictator and a despot who deliberately sought to destroy their
liberties.
The cause of the South not only meant the defense of their homes from
foreign invasion; it became a holy crusade for the reëstablishment of
Constitutional freedom.
Virginia immediately seceded from the Union by the vote of the same men
who had refused to secede but a few weeks before. The old flag fell from
its staff on her Capitol and the new symbol of Southern unity was
unfurled in its place. As if by magic the new flag fluttered from every
hill, housetop and window, while crowds surged through the streets
shouting and waving it aloft. Cannon boomed its advent and cheering
thousands saluted it.
A great torchlight parade illumined the streets on April 19. In this
procession walked the men who a week ago had marched through Franklin
Street waving the old flag of the Union and shouting themselves hoarse
in their determination to uphold it. They had signed the ordinance of
secession with streaming eyes, but they signed it with firm hands, and
sent their sons to the muster fields next day.
Augusta County, a Whig and Union center, and Rockingham, an equally
strong Democratic Union county, each contributed fifteen hundred
soldiers to the new cause. Women not only began to prepare the equipment
for their men, but many of them began to arm and practice themselves.
Boys from ten to fourteen were daily drilling. In Petersburg three
hundred free negroes offered their services to fight or to ditch and
dig.
The bitterness of the answers of the Southern Governors from the Border
States yet in the Union amazed the President at Washington.
His demand for troops was refused in tones of scorn and defiance.
Governor Magoffin of Kentucky replied:
"The State will furnish no troops for the wicked purpose of subduing her
sister Southern States."
Governor Harris telegraphed from Nashville:
"The State of Tennessee will not furnish a single man for coercion, but
fifty thousand if necessary for the defense of her rights."
The message of Governor Ellis of North Carolina was equally emphatic:
"I will be no party to this wicked violation of the laws of our
country, and to this war upon the liberties of a free people."
Governor Rector of Arkansas replied:
"Your demand adds insult to injury."
Governor Jackson of Missouri was indignant beyond all others:
"Your requisition in my judgment is illegal, unconstitutional, and
revolutionary--its objects inhuman and diabolical."
Tennessee followed Virginia by seceding on May 6. Arkansas on May 18,
and North Carolina by unanimous vote on May 21.
North Carolina had been slow to announce her final separation from the
old Union. But she had been prompt in proclaiming her own sovereign
rights within her territory when the National Government had dared to
call them in question. On the day the President had issued his
proclamation she seized Fort Macon at Beaufort. Fort Caswell was taken
and garrisoned by her volunteers, and on April 19, the arsenal at
Fayetteville was captured without bloodshed. The value of this
achievement to the South was incalculable. The Confederacy thus secured
sixty-five thousand stand of arms, of which twenty-eight thousand were
of the most modern pattern.
Virginia had seceded on April 17 and immediately moved to secure under
the resumption of her complete sovereignty all the arms, munitions of
war, ship stores and military posts within her borders. Two posts of
tremendous importance she attempted to seize at once--the great navy
yard at Norfolk and the arsenal and shops at Harper's Ferry. The navy
yard contained a magnificent dry dock worth millions, huge ship houses,
supplies, ammunition, small arms and cannon, and had lying in its basin
several vessels of war, complete and incomplete.
Harper's Ferry contained ten thousand muskets, five thousand rifles and
a complete set of machinery for the manufacture of arms capable of
turning out two thousand muskets a month.
A force of Virginia volunteers moved on Harper's Ferry. The small
Federal garrison asked for a parley, which was granted. In a short time
flames were pouring from the armory and arsenal. The garrison had set
fire to the buildings and escaped across the railroad bridge into
Maryland.
The Virginia troops rushed into the burning buildings, and saved five
thousand muskets and three thousand unfinished rifles. The garrison had
laid trains of powder to blow up the workshops, but the Virginians
extinguished the flames and saved to the South the invaluable machinery
for making and repairing muskets and rifles. It was shipped to
Fayetteville and Richmond and installed for safety.
The destruction of the navy yard at Norfolk was more complete and
irreparable. The dry dock was little damaged, but the destruction of
stores and property was enormous. All ships in the harbor were set on
fire and scuttled.
Events moved now with swift and terrible certainty.
Massachusetts attempted, on April 19, to send a regiment through the
streets of Baltimore to invade the South, and the indignant wrath of her
citizens could not be controlled by the mayor or police. The street cars
on which they were riding across town to the Camden station were thrown
from the tracks. The crowds jammed the streets and shouted their curses
in the face of the advancing volunteers. Stones were hurled into their
ranks and two soldiers dropped. A volley was poured into the crowd and
several fell dead and wounded.
The crowd went mad. Revolvers were drawn and fired point blank into the
ranks of the soldiers and those who were unarmed rushed to arm
themselves. From Frederic to Smith Streets the firing on both sides
continued with the regular crash of battle. Citizens were falling, but
even the unarmed men continued to press forward and hurl stones into the
ranks of the New Englanders.
The troops began to yield before the determined onslaughts of the
infuriated crowds, bewildered and apparently without real commanders.
They pressed through the streets, staggering, confused, breaking into a
run and turning to fire on their assailants as they retreated.
Harassed, bleeding and exhausted, the regiment at last reached the
Baltimore & Ohio station. The fight continued without pause. Volleys of
stones were hurled into the cars, shattering windows and paneling. The
troops were ordered to lie down on the floors and keep their heads below
the line of the windows. Maddened men pressed to the car windows,
cursing and yelling their defiance. For half a mile along the tracks the
crowd struggled and shouted, piling the rails with new obstructions as
fast as policemen could remove them. Through a steady roar of hoots,
yells and curses the train at last pulled slowly out, the troops pouring
a volley into the crowd.
In this first irregular battle of the sections the Massachusetts
regiment lost four killed and thirty-six wounded. The Baltimoreans lost
twelve killed and an unknown number wounded.
A wave of tremendous excitement swept the State of Maryland. Bridges on
all railroads leading north were immediately burned and the City of
Washington cut off from communication with the outside world. Troops
were compelled to avoid Baltimore and find transportation by water to
Annapolis. Mass meetings were held and speeches of bitter defiance
hurled against the Federal Government. The Baltimore Council
appropriated five hundred thousand dollars to put the city in a state of
defense, though the State had proclaimed its neutrality.
The shrewd, good-natured, even-tempered President at Washington used all
his powers of personal diplomacy to pour oil on the troubled waters of
Maryland. In the meantime with swift, sure, and merciless tread he moved
on the turbulent State with the power of Federal arms. It was impossible
to hold the Capital of the Nation with a hostile State separating it
from the loyal North.
The steps he took were all clearly unconstitutional, but they were
necessary to save the Capital. They were the acts of a dictator, for
Congress was not in session, but he dared to act. Troops were suddenly
thrown into the city of Baltimore and its streets and heights planted
with cannon. The chief of police was arrested and imprisoned, the police
board was suspended and the city brought under the rule of drumhead
court-martial. The writ of _habeas corpus_ was suspended by Federal
authorities in a free and sovereign State whose Legislature had
proclaimed its neutrality in the sectional conflict. Blank warrants were
issued by military officers and the house of every suspect entered by
force and searched. The mayor and his Council were arrested without
warrant, held without trial, and imprisoned in a military fortress, and
when the Legislature dared to protest, its members were arrested and its
session closed by bayonets.
So thoroughly was this work done that within thirty days from the attack
on the troops of New England, Maryland's Governor by proclamation called
for four regiments of volunteers to assist the Washington Government in
the proposed invasion of the South.
In like manner, with hand of steel within a velvet glove, Mr. Lincoln
prevented the secession of Kentucky and Missouri. It was done with less
violence, but it was done, and these rich and powerful States saved to
the Union.
The swift and bloodless conquest of Maryland inspired the North with the
most grotesque conception of the war and its outcome.
The British and French Governments had immediately recognized the
Confederate States as belligerents under the terms of international law
and closed their ports to the armed vessels of both contestants. Mr.
Seward, Lincoln's Secretary of State, hastened to assure the nations of
Europe that a dissolution of the Union was an absurd impossibility. It
had never entered the mind of any candid statesman in America and should
be dismissed at once by statesmen in Europe. And yet at this time eleven
Southern States, stretching from the James to the Rio Grande, with a
population of eight millions, had by solemn act of their Legislatures
withdrawn from the Union and their armies were camping within a few
miles of the City of Washington.
In all the North not a single statesman or a single newspaper appeared
to have any conception of the serious task before them. The fusillades
of rant, passion and bombast which filled the air would have been comic
but for the grim tragedy which was stalking in their wake.
The "Rebellion" was ridiculed and sneered at in terms that taxed the
genius of the writers for words of contempt.
The New York _Tribune_, the greatest and most powerful organ of public
opinion in the North, a paper which had boldly from the first proclaimed
the right of the South to peaceable secession, was now swept away with
the popular fury.
Its editor gravely declared:
"The Southern rebellion is nothing more or less than the natural
recourse of all mean-spirited and defeated tyrannies to rule or ruin,
making of course a wide distinction between the will and the power, for
the hanging of traitors is soon to begin before a month is over. The
Nations of Europe may rest assured that Jeff Davis and Co. will be
swinging from the battlements at Washington, at least by the fourth of
July. We spit upon a later and longer deferred justice."
The New York _Times_ gave its opinion with equal clearness:
"Let us make quick work. The Rebellion is an unborn tadpole. Let us not
fall into the delusion of mistaking a local commotion for a revolution.
A strong active pull together will do our work in thirty days. We have
only to send a column of twenty-five thousand men across the Potomac to
Richmond to burn out the rats there; another column of twenty-five
thousand to Cairo to seize the Cotton ports of the Mississippi and
retain the remaining twenty-five thousand called for by the President at
Washington--not because there is any need for them there but because we
do not require their services elsewhere."
The staid old Philadelphia _Press_ declared:
"No man of sense can for a moment doubt that all this
much-ado-about-nothing will end in a month. The Northern people are
invincible. The rebels are a band of ragamuffins who will fly like chaff
before the wind on our approach."
The West vied with the East in boastful clamor.
The Chicago _Tribune_ shouted from the top of its columns:
"We insist that the West be allowed the honor of settling this little
trouble by herself since she is most interested in its suppression to
insure the free navigation of the Mississippi River. Let the East stand
aside. This is our war. We can end it successfully in two months.
Illinois can whip the whole South by herself. We insist on the affair
being turned over to us."
With prospects of a short war and cheaply earned glory the rage for
volunteering was resistless. The war for three months was to be a
holiday excursion and every man would return a hero crowned with
garlands of flowers, the center of admiring thousands. The blacksmiths
of Brooklyn were busy making handcuffs for one of her crack regiments.
Each volunteer had sworn to lead at least one captive rebel in chains
through the crowded streets in the great parade on their return.
Socola on his arrival at Montgomery from Charleston read these
fulminations from the North with amazement and rage. He sent his bitter
and emphatic protest against such madness to Holt. The faithful Joseph
had been rewarded with an office to his liking. He was now the Judge
Advocate General of the United States Army. He turned Socola's letters
over to Cameron, the new Secretary of War, who read them with rising
wrath.
"The author of those letters," he said with a scowl, "is either a damned
fool, or traitor."
Holt's lower lip was thrust out and the lines of his big mouth drawn
into a knot.
"I assure you, sir--he is neither. He is absolutely loyal. His
patriotism is a religion. He has entered his dangerous and important
mission with the zeal of a religious fanatic."
"That accounts for it then--he's insane. I don't care to read any more
such twaddle and I won't pay for the services of such a man out of the
funds of the War Department."
With the utmost difficulty Holt secured the consent of the Secretary of
War to continue Socola's commission for two months longer.
The only consolation the young patriot found in the contemptuous reply
his Government made to his solemn warnings was the almost equal fatuity
with which the Southern people were now approaching their first test of
battle.
Until the proclamation of President Lincoln, both Jefferson Davis and
the South had believed in the possibility of a peaceful reconciliation.
Even when the proclamation had been made and the wild response of the
North had been instantly given, the Southern people refused to believe
that the millions of Northern voters who still clung to the old forms of
Constitutional Government under the leadership of Stephen A. Douglas
would surrender their principles, arm themselves and march to coerce a
State at the command of a President against whom they had voted.
Senator Barton, from his new position in the Confederate Senate, scouted
the idea of serious war.
"Bah!" he growled to Socola, who was drawing him out. "The Yankees won't
fight!"
"That's what they say about you, sir," was the cool response.
"Who ever heard of a race of shopkeepers turning into soldiers?" The
Senator laughed. "Such men have no martial prowess! They are unequal to
mighty deeds of valor."
The white teeth of the young observer gleamed in a smile.
"On the other hand, Senator, I'm afraid history proves that commercial
communities, once aroused, are the most dogged, pugnacious, ambitious
and obstinate fighters of the world--Carthage, Venice, Genoa, Holland
and England have surely proven this--"
"There's one thing certain," Barton roared. "We'll bring England to her
knees if there is a war. Cotton is the King of Commerce, and we hold the
key of his empire. The population of England will starve without our
cotton. If we need them they've got to come to our rescue, sir!"
Socola did not argue the point. It was amazing how widespread was this
idea in the South. He wrote his Government again and again that the
whole movement of secession was based on this conception.
There was one man in Washington who read these warnings with keen
insight--Gideon Welles, the Secretary of the Navy. The part this quiet,
unassuming man was preparing to play in the mighty drama then unfolding
its first scene was little known or understood by those who were filling
the world with the noise of their bluster.
Jefferson Davis at his desk in Montgomery saw with growing anxiety the
confidence of his people in immediate and overwhelming success. In
answer to Abraham Lincoln's proclamation calling for 75,000 volunteers
to fight the South, he called for 100,000 to defend it. The rage for
volunteering in the South was even greater than the North. An army of
five hundred thousand men could have been enrolled for any length of
service if arms and equipment could have been found. It was utterly
impossible to arm and equip one hundred thousand, before the first
battle would be fought.
Ambitious Southern boys, raging for the smell of battle, rushed from
post to post, begged and pleaded for a place in the ranks. They offered
big bounties for the places assigned to men who were lucky enough to be
accepted.
The Confederate Congress, to the chagrin of their President, fixed the
time of service at six months. Jefferson Davis was apparently the only
man in the South who had any conception of the gigantic task before his
infant government. He begged and implored his Congress for an enrollment
of three years or the end of the war. The Congress laughed at his absurd
fears. The utmost they would grant was enlistment for the term of one
year.
With grim foreboding but desperate earnestness the President of the
Confederacy turned his attention to the organization and equipment of
this force with which he was expected to defend the homes of eight
million people scattered over a territory of 728,000 square miles, with
an open frontier of a thousand miles and three thousand leagues of open
sea.