Kitabı oku: «Secrets of the Late Rebellion», sayfa 8
CHAPTER X. THE CONFEDERACY AS SEEN FROM WITHIN. PRIDE, PASSION, AND WANT IN THE BACKGROUND
SINCE the war, we have seen, and had long conversations with, a reverend doctor, whom we had known for many years previous to the war, who resided in Virginia when the war commenced, was among the first to take part in it, and who continued in the service until the war closed. We have also met other Confederate officers since the war, some of whom had extraordinary facilities for obtaining information while the war continued. From all these we learned much beyond anything we had ever known before, or ever seen in newspapers or books. To put on record some of the things so learned is the object of the present chapter.
The South well knew, in the very beginning of the contest, that in point of numbers, in wealth, and in material resources, it was greatly inferior to the North. They had hope, however, of dividing the North, or, rather, of having the North divide against itself; and had the one-hundredth part of the promises made them by Northern men been kept, there would indeed have been a division of force, as well as a division of political sentiment, in the North; and the result of such division might have given the final victory to the Confederacy, instead of to the Union cause. But what the South relied upon still more, was assistance from England. They had been led to believe that King Cotton was almost, if not quite, as powerful in England as Queen Victoria, and they had laid the "flattering unction to their souls" that so soon as King Cotton saw those who had made him king in distress, he would rush, pell-mell, to their rescue; scatter the Yankee blockading squadrons to the winds; throw open all the Southern ports; bring men, ammunition, clothing, and provisions to exchange for their cotton, and thus, beyond any reasonable doubt, insure success to the Southern cause.
As well assured as they felt of all this, they still regarded it as important to keep all the while the "best foot foremost;" to keep up an appearance of strength, however weak they might be; to keep up a show of independence, however much they might be hoping and praying for help. Like as an expectant bride, though she has the plighted faith of her lover, will continue to smile, to dress, to allure in every way she can, up to the very hour of the marriage ceremony, so the South continued to smile, to dress, to allure, in every way she could, her Northern allies, who had solemnly plighted their faith to her, and her English sympathizers, whose pecuniary interests lay all in that direction, and these things she continued to do up to the very moment when the Confederacy collapsed, and when it was found that nothing was left of the egg but the shell. As our reverend friend said to us, over and over again, and as other Confederate officers have said to us, over and over again, "none but those within the lines, and behind the scenes, knew of the destitution, of the suffering, of the heart-aches, of the skeletons within closets while those who held the keys were smiling as if they were full of good things, of the turns and shifts which not only the army but which almost every family in the South had to make, in order to preserve life, and yet keep up a fair outside show, during those four terrible years of war." And now for the illustrations – little or none of which has ever before been published.
After the first year of the war, so much in want of food was the Confederate army at times, that, in one instance, an officer, with an escort, travelled sixty miles before he could purchase food enough to load one six-mule wagon which he had with him. Even then they had to go within the Union lines, and run very great risk of being captured.
The same officer from whom we learned the above incident, also told us that, on one occasion, he and the men with him were so ravenous from hunger that he shot an old sow that had had a large litter of pigs only the day before, and that while he and his fellow officers ate the meat (if meat it could be called) of the old sow, his men ate not only the one-day-old pigs, but even the very entrails of the mother.
On another occasion this same officer shot an opossum that had just been having its young, and while, under ordinary circumstances, he could no more have eaten its flesh than he could have eaten a viper, yet such was his hunger at the time that the dish seemed palatable. Often, he said, he had gone for a whole day, and occasionally two or three days at a time, without one "square meal;" and this he knew to be an ordinary experience among officers of the Confederate army, especially during the last year of the war, and largely so during the two or three last years of the war. Certainly, if there was an officer in that army who had opportunities to live on the "fat of the land," he was one of them, and if he suffered thus, God only knows what must have been the sufferings of others!
Early in the war, coffee became scarce, and, during the last year or two, hardly to be had at all within the lines of the Confederacy. To procure it, all manner of devices were resorted to. On one occasion, when two sentinels were within calling distance of each other – one on either side of an intervening deep ravine – a Confederate officer present told his sentinel to ask the Union sentinel whether his company had any coffee which they would exchange for tobacco. The Union sentinel inquired of his captain, and after a time hallooed back that they had of their company rations a bag of coffee left over, which they would exchange for tobacco, provided they could make a good trade. The Confederate officer instructed his sentinel to reply that they would give twenty-five boxes of plug tobacco for one bag of coffee. The offer was accepted, and as soon after as the coffee and the tobacco could be brought to the spot, the Union sentinel rolled down the bag of coffee, the Confederate sentinel rolled down the twenty-five boxes of tobacco, to the foot of the ravine, when, with assistants, each took away the article traded for – hostilities being suspended meanwhile. Each of the parties was highly pleased with the trade. Before the war one or two boxes of tobacco would have brought in the New York market as much, if not more, than one bag of coffee.
Pins and needles became so scarce in the Confederacy that at least one man – a Mr. Webster Sly, of Charles County, Md., brother to a celebrated doctor in that vicinity – made quite a fortune by smuggling trunks full of these articles across the Union lines and selling them within the Confederate lines.
As early as 1863, one of our informants saw dogs in the streets of Charleston so emaciated that they could scarcely walk, and at one time saw one of these animals leaning against a fence and chewing upon an old shoe. In that city and in Richmond he knew of families who had once been wealthy that were, during the war, compelled to sell not only their clothing, but even their beds, to procure food to live upon. Our reverend friend himself, though at one time the owner of a handsome house and of slaves, had, while at Petersburg, been compelled to live, with his wife and daughter, in a garret, and upon food that a dog would scarcely have eaten under ordinary circumstances.
Not only did such destitution prevail throughout the Confederate States during the war, but still worse evils prevailed, engendered by pride, jealousy, and passion. While this fact was carefully concealed from Northern eyes and ears, and from English eyes and ears, yet it prevailed to an alarming extent, and when occasionally it would burst forth in such violence as to cause death, no mention of the fact was made in the newspapers at Richmond lest it might reach Northern or English ears.
Almost at the beginning of the war two parties sprang up in the Confederacy, known as the "Davis party" and the "Stephens party." President Davis advocated one line of policy; Vice-President Stephens advocated another line of policy. Their respective friends took sides, each with his chief, and so bitter became the strife between the two, that when the Government was removed from Montgomery to Richmond Mr. Stephens would not come there to preside over the deliberations of the Senate. At one time, in 1863, the strife between their respective partisans in the Confederate Congress, then meeting in Richmond, became so great, that a Virginian (a Davis man) shot and killed a Georgian (a Stephens man) upon the floor of the House for some words uttered in debate. The excitement for the moment was intense. Pistols and bowie-knives were drawn by dozens of Congressmen, and it seemed that many additional lives would have to be sacrificed then and there before the affray could end, but erelong quiet was restored and the dead body of the slain member removed from the chamber. Our informant saw the dead body as it was carried along the street, inquired after and learned all the incidents of the bloody affair, but neither on that day nor on any day thereafter was a word said about it in the Richmond newspapers.
Another cause of much irritation, much jealousy, and much bad blood, arose in the appointing of general officers for the Confederate army. Mr. Davis, being himself a "West-Pointer," it was not unnatural that he should prefer, in all cases, graduates of West Point; but, as the people of the several States had to furnish not only the money, but the men for the army, it was not unnatural that they should desire to see some of their leading citizens in command of the men they furnished. The people believed that brains were quite as essential to success as technical military knowledge, and were not willing to trust all their interests, personal and pecuniary, to the direction of such as knew little or nothing beyond military tactics. The demand became so strong and so persistent that the administration yielded, so far as to appoint Bishop Polk, Rev. Dr. Pendleton, John C. Breckinridge, and Bradley Johnson, to generalships; but beyond this, few, if any, held high positions in the army, other than West-Point-ers. Towards the close of the war, General Lee said, at a dinner given to army officers, at Orange Court-House, near his headquarters, that from thenceforth the "policy of the government would be to give promotion to such, and such only, as fairly earned it on the field of battle, without regard to their previous military education." This speech was reported at once in every part of the Confederacy, and as he was presumed to speak by authority, it had the effect to quiet, in a great measure, the excitement which had so long existed relative to military appointments.
Another source of demoralization, and, consequently, of weakness in the Confederacy, was the disposition to gamble among so many of its officers and leading citizens. At Richmond, while so many, who had been affluent, were almost starving; while the gradual disappearance, and finally the entire absence, of cats and dogs in the city, proved that meat other than lamb was supplying the tables of many of its citizens; while even the highest officers of State were, at times, sorely perplexed about food for their families, the gambling houses of that city were doing a splendid business, and furnishing free lunches to their patrons far superior to what could be found upon the table of President Davis or any member of his cabinet. Indeed, it became well known among Confederate army officers, and among the leading gentlemen of the city as well, that the best eatables and the best drinkables to be had in the Confederacy were to be had at these gambling saloons, and many a one was induced to patronize them on this account more than on any other. It was said that the proprietors of these saloons could obtain, and did obtain, supplies from the North, when the highest officers and the wealthiest men of Richmond could not obtain them. How done, except through pals and noted gamblers, some of whom were well-known spies, and often in Washington, was never known. Notwithstanding the expensive free lunches given by these gambling houses every day, they made immense amounts of money. What they made in gold and greenbacks they carefully stored away, or made use of in the purchase of supplies. What they got in Confederate money they invested in real estate, so that, when the war ended, the gamblers of Richmond owned more real estate than any other class of persons, if not more than all other classes combined. What was true of Richmond, in all these particulars, was probably true of every other city in the Confederacy.
Still another source of weakness in the Confederacy was the lack of confidence; almost from the beginning, in the currency issued by the government, or by its authority. It was thought to be a terrible condition of things in the North when a gold dollar commanded $2.85 in greenbacks; when muslin, that had sold for ten cents per yard, sold for thirty; when coffee, sugar, meats, almost everything, commanded double, and, in some cases, treble the prices at which they had sold before the war; but these were as nothing when compared with the South. A single chicken leg, or a single chicken wing, with a small piece of corn-bread tied to it, sold at from one to two dollars at many of the railroad depots; a drink of brandy or whiskey, at the Ballard House, Richmond, cost five dollars; a single meal, at the same house, ten dollars; a gentleman's dressing-gown, smuggled through from the North by a land blockade-runner, sold, in Richmond, for eleven hundred dollars. Of course, all these prices mean Confederate currency. Such as were wise enough to invest their Confederate money in real estate had something of real value after the war. Such as failed to do this, had large amounts in what purported to be money, but not one penny in real value, after the war ended. Every dollar of gold or silver that came within the Confederate lines, after the second year of the war, was either hoarded or hid away, or expended for needed supplies, in which case it soon found its way back to the North or to England.
And thus we close this tenth scene of the drama, in which we have endeavored to give our readers a glimpse of the Southern Confederacy as seen from within; and to show, too, that pride, passion, and want formed a fearful picture in the background.
CHAPTER XI. HOW ORDER WAS MAINTAINED. KINDNESS AND POWER (HAND-IN-HAND) BEHIND THE SCENES
THE city of Alexandria is situated about seven miles below Washington, on the Potomac River. It was at one time a part of the District of Columbia, but, by a subsequent arrangement, was retroceded to Virginia. Prior to the war it was a place of considerable business; contained, probably, thirty thousand inhabitants; had some fine streets, and a few handsome buildings; and was a favorite place of resort, as well as of residence, for the more wealthy and influential citizens of that part of Virginia.
After the war commenced, by the firing on Fort Sumter, the first object of the United States Government was to save Washington from falling into the hands of the enemy. Between the 18th of May and the 23d of June, 1861, thirty-one fully organized regiments and three independent companies arrived in that city. Of these, four were from Pennsylvania, also the three independent companies, four from Massachusetts, eleven from New York State, four from New Jersey, two from Rhode Island, three from Connecticut, one from Michigan, and two from Ohio. These regiments numbered about 28,000 men. Besides these, there were about 4,000 District of Columbia militia, organized under Colonel Stone, and about 4,000 regular United States troops. All these were concentrated, thus early, for the defence of the capital, and to form a pivot for future movements.
Though these volunteer regiments had had but little opportunity for drill, the impatience of the North soon made it necessary for them to make a forward movement of some kind; and, as Alexandria was the most approximate point, and as a considerable force of the Confederates were known to be concentrated there, it was resolved to make an attack upon, and, if possible, capture that city. Accordingly, at midnight on the 23d of May, 1861, a small force was pushed across the Long Bridge to the Virginia side, to clear and hold the head of the bridge; and at two o'clock on the following morning a considerable force left Washington on foot, while a regiment of Zouaves, under command of Colonel Ellsworth, left on two steamers – all for Alexandria. The movement was so concerted that the force on foot reached the outskirts of the city at the same time that Ellsworth's force reached the wharves. The Confederate force at Alexandria was far too small to contend with the Union force sent against them, and as the one entered the other retired from the city. But for the unfortunate death of Colonel Ellsworth, who was shot by James Jackson, the proprietor of the Marshall House, while the former was removing a Confederate flag which had been flying from the flag-staff of that hotel, and the killing of Jackson, which followed immediately after, there would have been no blood shed in the capture of that city.
Not only did the Confederate troops retire on the approach of the Union troops, but a large number of families and single citizens left at the same time. Indeed, for several days previous to the coming of the Union troops, it was well known in Alexandria that they were coming, and many of its citizens, some of whom owned farms in other parts of Virginia, some plantations in other parts of the South, and others who had friends and relatives in other parts of the State, or in other parts of the South, had all quietly left for their respective farm-homes, plantations, or friends. Some who could not leave thus suddenly went as soon as they could thereafter, so that, before a Union line had been fully established beyond Alexandria, probably two-thirds of its citizens had left, leaving only about ten thousand out of a previous population of about thirty thousand.
Immediately thereafter, however, the Union forces commenced to establish camps at points beyond, yet not far from, Alexandria. Near the Seminary buildings, only a few miles from the city, a considerable number of troops were encamped; while, at Malvern Hills, at Edsall's farm, at or near Fall's Church, and at many other points, regiments, brigades, or whole divisions were located. As a consequence of this, notwithstanding Alexandria had been so largely abandoned by its own citizens, its streets were more thronged with citizens and soldiers combined, its drinking saloons were more frequented, and there was more of bustle and confusion generally in the city during the summer, fall, and winter of 1861 than there had ever been in any past period of its history.
With the hasty leaving of the leading citizens of Alexandria had gone whatever it had possessed of municipal, county, or State government. The mayor and members of the city council had fled; all the State and county judges had fled; the county clerk, the surrogate, and every other county officer had fled; nor was there a single justice of the peace, a single constable, or a single police-officer – or, at least, not one who declared himself as such – left in the city. There was no formal announcement of the establishing of martial law within the city limits, but its possession by Union troops made it virtually so from the moment they took possession.
The battle of Bull Run occurred on the 21st of July, 1861, and although Alexandria had been bad enough before that time, it was still worse after. For some time after that battle the Union army seemed utterly demoralized. The commanders of regiments, brigades, and divisions seemed for the moment to have lost all control over their men. Officers and men, instead of remaining in camp to drill, flocked into Washington and into Alexandria by scores, yea, by hundreds, every day. Hotels, drinking saloons, restaurants' houses of ill-fame were all doing a rushing business, and meanwhile the legitimate duties of the officer and the soldier were almost wholly neglected. General McClellan reached Washington, and assumed command of the Army of the Potomac, on the 26th of July, 1861, and on the 30th issued an order in which he said, "The general commanding the division has with much regret observed that large numbers of officers and men stationed in the vicinity of Washington (his command included Alexandria and beyond as well) are in the habit of frequenting the streets and hotels of the city. This practice is eminently prejudicial to good order and discipline, and must at once be discontinued." This order had a salutary effect to a certain extent, but it by no means cured the evil. It made officers and men more careful to procure leaves of absence and passes before leaving their camps; for, if found in Washington or Alexandria without such leave or pass, they were liable to be called upon by the provost-marshal, or arrested by the provost-guard; but, after the first week or two, in the lessening of numbers the effect of the order was hardly perceptible. The hotels, drinking saloons, restaurants, and houses of ill-fame still continued to do a thriving business; while fights in saloons, brawls in the streets, insults to persons walking the streets, thefts, robberies, and the like misdemeanors, were of almost daily and nightly occurrence.
Such was the condition of things in Alexandria, when, in August, 1861, General William R. Montgomery, who had been the Colonel of the First New Jersey regiment of volunteers, but had recently been promoted to a brigadier-generalship, was detached from his command, then encamped near the Seminary buildings, and assigned to the command (as Military Governor) of Alexandria. He had for his Assistant Adjutant-General, Jacob R. Freese, of Trenton, N. J., who had been an active business-man all his life (he was then about thirty-five years of age), and who for the four years immediately preceding the war had been the editor and proprietor of the State Gazette, one of the leading newspapers of the State. General Montgomery was then about sixty years of age, a graduate of West Point, had been connected with the regular army nearly all his life – a perfect gentleman in his manners, mild, quiet, unobtrusive, exceedingly kind and gentle; but knew comparatively nothing of business life, and had hardly been in a police-office or a courtroom during his whole life. Though no officer in the army was truer to the Union cause than he, yet so exceedingly kind was he in his general disposition, so disliked to refuse any favor asked of him, and so averse was he to punishment of any kind, that he soon found his new situation a very perplexing one. Hardly had he assumed command, before such of the secessionists as remained in Alexandria commenced to ask favors at his hands. In all cases, where he possibly could, it gave him as much or more pleasure to grant their requests than for them to receive the favors. This soon became known to extreme Unionists, who thereupon called the General "a rebel in disguise." When this came to the General's ears, it distressed him greatly. It also distressed him as much, or more, to learn that some Alexandrians who remained were practising great cruelty towards some white citizens, and especially towards their slaves, because they had dared to express Union sentiments. And still another source of great annoyance to him was, that great numbers of soldiers came into the city every day – some got drunk, abused citizens, created brawls in the streets, and then left without so much as saying "by your leave, sir." Other disputes and disturbances were occurring, almost daily, among the citizens, which, when all other means failed, would be referred to him for settlement, since, as heretofore stated, there were no courts left in the city to whom such disputes could be referred. To organize a court-martial and keep it in session all the while would take a number of officers from their regular duties, and seemed utterly impracticable. To undertake to arbitrate and decide all cases himself, seemed not less impracticable, if not impossible; and as to prescribing punishment to others, he would almost prefer to take it upon himself.
Every day he talked these troublesome matters over with his Assistant Adjutant-General, and finally requested him to draw up, and submit to him, in writing, a plan for governing the city. This he did on the day following the request. The leading feature of the plan submitted was to organize a provost-court, over which some officer should preside as provost-judge, who should hear and adjudicate all cases of whatsoever kind brought before him. To arrest delinquents and enforce the orders of the provost-court, the plan proposed that the soldiers, detailed for sentinel duty in the city, should be organized into a provost-guard, with a provost-marshal at their head; that both the marshal and guard should be subject to the direct orders of the provost-judge; and that the provost-judge should submit his doings, every day, to the military governor for his approval, amendment, or reversal, since he alone was responsible to the general government for what was done within his command. General Montgomery considered the plan carefully and decided to adopt it. He then asked his Adjutant to accept the appointment of provost-judge, and perform its duties, in addition to such as he had as Assistant Adjutant-General of the post. At first the Adjutant declined, not seeing how it was possible for him to perform both duties, since either one of them seemed quite as much as any one man could perform. The General urged that, as he would be held officially responsible for whatever the provost-judge might do, he must have some one in whom he had implicit confidence, some one whom he could see and converse with at every meal-time, some one who was familiar with the workings of courts of justice, and since he, the Adjutant, had drawn up the plan, there was no one whom he could detail that could put the plan in operation so well as he. The Adjutant, on the other hand, urged that his duties were already quite as much as he could perform satisfactorily to himself; that almost every day he had quartermaster, commissary, and hospital reports to examine and sign; passes and permits to consider and issue, etc.; all of which involved the writing, "By order of Brigadier-General Montgomery, J. R. Freese, A. A. G.," from one hundred to five hundred times each day, which usually occupied every minute of his time. It was finally arranged that the General should detail two additional clerks for the Adjutant's office, and one to write up the records of the court at every sitting, and thereupon the Adjutant consented to enter upon the additional duty of provost-judge of the city. The General issued the necessary order, over his own signature, and on the day following the Adjutant entered upon his new duties.
The court-house had not been used for any purpose since the evacuation of the city by the Confederates. Men were now put to work in cleaning and fitting it up for the purposes of the new provost-court. A large building on the outskirts of the city, which had been used for the temporary detention of slaves, and therefore called a "slave-pen," was cleaned and fitted up as a guard-house. The old jail was cleaned, whitewashed, and renovated generally. A large, empty building, in the heart of the city, was fitted up for the provost-marshal's office, and as quarters for the guards. Captain Griffiths, of Pennsylvania, the senior captain of the companies then on duty as sentinels, was appointed provost-marshal, and the two companies then on duty organized as a provost-guard. The duty assigned them was to arrest every drunken man – officer, private, or citizen – whom they observed to be disturbing the peace of the city, whether at hotels, drinking saloons, on the streets, or elsewhere; to take them, so soon as arrested, to the officer in charge at the guard-house and report all the facts to him; if the officer at the guard-house deemed the complaint to be of such seriousness as to require a further hearing, the arrested party was to be locked up until the next sitting of the provost-court, when he was to be brought before that court for trial. This was to be the procedure not only in cases of drunkenness, but in all other cases of petty misdemeanor. If, however, the offence was of a more serious character, the party arrested was to be taken at once before the provost-marshal, and all the facts immediately after reported to the provost-judge. If he deemed the charges sufficiently strong to hold the arrested party, he was then to be sent to the county jail and there held until next day, or until the court was ready to try the case, which usually was on the day following the arrest. It was arranged that a session of the provost-court should be held every day (Sundays excepted) at the court-house, commencing at ten o'clock, and continue until all the cases were disposed of. Usually this could be done between ten and twelve o'clock; but occasionally the sessions extended until late in the afternoon.
After all needed arrangements had been completed, the Judge's horse – saddled, bridled, and with a pair of loaded revolvers in the holsters – might be seen every morning, at precisely nine and a half o'clock, standing before the General's headquarters. At precisely a quarter to ten, Judge Freese would come out of the Adjutant's office in full uniform, mount his horse, and, usually on a full gallop, ride to the court-house, about a quarter of a mile distant from the headquarters. On reaching the court-house the Judge dismounted, a soldier took charge of his horse, and he passed in to take his seat on the bench. Generally, the guards, and the prisoners from the guard-house, were already in waiting – every guard standing at attention, with loaded musket and fixed bayonet. It was from this fact that it was sometimes designated, by New York journals and others, as "Judge Freese's Bayonet Court." The clerk, acting as "crier," then announced that the "court was now open for business," and immediately after handed the Judge a list containing the names of all the prisoners at the bar, with the nature of the offence charged against each. The Judge, beginning with No. I, would call for the evidence of the sentinel making the arrest, and then for the evidence of others who might know anything of the case. When the evidence for the prosecution had closed, the accused was asked to say anything he could in his own defence, and to produce any witnesses he might have. It was plainly to be seen that the Judge always leaned towards mercy; that he encouraged and aided the prisoner in the making of a defence, if any were possible; that never, at any time, did he speak harshly to a prisoner at the bar; but even in his sentences so tempered his words with kindness and good advice as to make the accused determine to do better in the future. At no session of the court, nor at any time after, was a prisoner ever known to complain of his treatment by the Judge, such was his uniform kindness and courtesy towards all who were brought before him, whether citizens or soldiers, white or black. When all the evidence was in on both sides, the Judge announced the sentence and the clerk recorded it The book in which the record was kept was open to the inspection and revision of the General commanding (military governor) every day, so that he might, if he chose, at once change or reverse any sentence which the Judge had passed upon any prisoner. The number of cases tried each day varied from ten to thirty. Most of them were of a minor character, and the punishment, consequently, very light Often the one day or one night's detention in the guard-house, which they had already received, was deemed sufficient; in other more serious cases, a fine of from one to five dollars, or further confinement in the guard-house or in the jail from one to five days, was imposed; but now and then a case of far graver character was brought before the court, one of which we will now relate.
