Until Every Drop of Blood Is Paid: A More Radical American Civil War

Side-story: "Three Farmers"
  • Btw, @DTF955Baseballfan has kindly decided to write another one-shot story set in this TL, and I'm sharing it with you. If anybody else ever wants to write any such short stories, they are more than welcomed :D

    Three farmers

    Rebs all think they’re winning, but we’ve got them trapped,
    Soon we’ll send them running to a place that’s apt.
    With their spirits crushed and weeping on their knees,
    Begging Freedmen for just a few goober peas.

    Peas, peas, peas, peas, eating goober peas.
    Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas


    “Are you from Brooke County?” Fred asked the singer, Matthias. When Matthias replied in the affirmative, Fred extended his hand and introduced himself. “ You must have been one of the many Germans who fled that place.

    “Indeed I am; I even gave a little speech about how we’d chosen this free land… then I pointed across the Ohio and said, ‘Actually, we chose that free land, this here’s a phony!” Matthias declared.

    The two men laughed; though they had slightly different accents, being from different parts of Germany, the men – whose son and daughter would eventually marry 25 years or so later – could tell there was a West Virginia twang to their speech, too.

    After they spoke for a moment, Fred said, “you sure do sound confident; you haven’t seen the lousy fighting we’ve been doing.”

    “I heard about Bull Run; I got faith, though. We were nearly all captured as a regiment in Kentucky.” Matthias shook his head. “Can’tg you people find any good generals? I wish they’d have sent Thomas, give them rebs a Trojan horse, make ‘em think he’ll go easy and then lay down the law,.”

    “I’m pretty confident with Reynolds; and, our regiment didn’t fight, won’t even be anything but on the back lines this time even, unless Lee dares to come north. But, we got called up this far ‘cause so much of the Army got… well, McClellaned.” Fred spat. “I don’t know what else to call it; some of the men say his name will go down like Arnold’s.”

    “Matthias shook his head. “I trust Lincoln; he wouldn’t have let McClellan stay on if he was that bad. Way I say it, Mclellan just didn’t have a lick of sense. He was an idiot.”

    Fred conceded the point. “There’s talk of us going up to quell some draft complaints; I guess you just got combined into ours?”

    “Yeah, they have to put soe regiments together right quick. I reckon they figure Lee’s going to do something, but what? If it’s Washington or Baltimore, the guess is we stay back, if he tried to come into Pennsylvania, it’s anyone’s guess,” Matthias outlined.

    “I guess you are ready for anything.” Fred sighed. “About as ready as I am, I guess.”

    Matthias agreed. “It’s going to be rough. But, we have to remember to turn what them Rebs got around on ‘em, just like the Yankees did to the British during the Revolution. Only, our goal is more important – ending that vile slavery!”

    “Hear, hear! Hyou know, it’s a shame they’re pushin this draft thing so hard. A lot of boys are going to come in here and they won’t have any idea what they’re in for. At least I had some concept when I volunteered; thought long and hard about it, and what that place was all about.”

    “You heard we broke free, right?”

    “I did.” Fred supposed that this was a good thing. “It shows we got leaders with some sense in West Virginia. But, will they end slavery?”

    “I don’t know. I probably rushed in faster, just because I hate slavery with a passion. But, look at it this way; you and I both hightailed it for Ohio pretty fast, even afer the rebs took Washington. How many more volunteers will we get once we win thuis battle?”

    Fred supposed his new friend was right. He just hoped they could get a crushing win quickly.. Their service time wouldn’t be up for a little over 2 years, but he feared they might have to fight nearly that long, the way things were going.

    Meanwhile,in rural Ohio, Alcide and his wife, Louisa, were looking at the newspaper. She was actually helping him to read it.

    “So, do you think you’ll be drafted>”

    Alcide shrugged. “I don’t know, Louisa. I guess it’s possible.”

    “This says some people are calling it unfair; that it’s not our fight.”

    Alcide stepped outside for a moment and waved his hand slowly to indicae the vast community of French speakers, some from Switzerland, some from France, some from the former who claimed to be from the latter – like him.

    “We chose this land. I know, you were born here, unlike your parents, but we chose this land despite its flaws. So, should we not support it? Wasn’t there a famous American who said, ‘Our country, may she always be in the right, but our country, right or wrong!’?”

    “I have heard that, too,” Alcide’s friend, a farmhand also from Switzerland, said as he walked up to them. “I have been pondering whether to enlist or not; unlike you, I do not have a family yet.”

    “Will you?” Louisa asked, happy that Alcide had decided he would only serve if he was drafted.

    “I am not sure. I know your mother and father are happy that I have stayed so far, Ma’am. The planting will need to be done soon. If I should enlist, I do not expect to be back by harvest time. Unless it is the harvest of 1865.”

    “’65?” Louisa asked in shock.

    The farmhand nodded solemnly. “I have been hearing stories, through the grapevine, as I have heard them say. Reaction to those who refuse to register is fierce, because the war is fierce. These are animals, not men, some of them.”

    Alcide raised his eyebrows. “I, too, have a disdain for slavery, but I did not realize you had so much hatred of it; your tone is just…” he did not know how to phrase it.

    “I do not ean just with their treatment of slave, Alcide. I have heard of them butchering innocent women and children as they raid.” Morgan’s Raiders had not yet come that far, either.

    As their friend described in grim detail what he’d heard, Louisa could see her husband getting very upset. “Alcide, remember, you promised…” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

    Alcide closed his eyes. Once he reopened them he declared resolutely, “I will stay because I made a promise; my oath to you is important as our marriage vows. But, if they do send raiders this way, I will join with volunteers to crush them!”

    Louisa conceded. “That is fair; I agree.”

    The farmhand noted, “I do feel a need to volunteer. As you have said yourself, we chose this land. We may not have been made as aware of the blight of slavery when our friends and relatives wrote to us of the wonderful farmland here…”

    Louisa said it had seemed so far away until the war. “France seems so small compared to the vast expanse of this country, after all. And I can imagine Switzerland was far more so.”

    “That is very true. But, your husband is right. We chose this land not only for the good, but for the bad. If it is our lot to vanquish the bad, we owe it to countrymen to fight to end the evils of rebellion.” When asked if he was indeed enlisting, the farmhand said, “I will remain until we get the planting done. We have a large community here, though. I begin to feel compelled to go. As if we have been placed here for such a time as this.”
     
    Chapter 37: Tried by War, and Decided by Victory
  • Yes we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!
    Yes we'll rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the plain
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!

    (Chorus)
    The Union Forever, hurrah boy, hurrah!
    Down with the Traitors, Up with the Stars!
    While we rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom

    We are springing to the call of our brothers gone before,
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!
    And we'll fill our vacant ranks with a million freemen more,
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!

    (Chorus)

    We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true and brave,
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!
    And although they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave,
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!

    (Chorus)

    We're marching to the field boys, we're going to the fight
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!
    And we bear the glorious stars, for the Union and the right
    Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!

    (Chorus)

    -The Battle Cry of Freedom

    In April, 1863, Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia crossed into Maryland and Pennsylvania. Lee thought of this new campaign as his masterstroke, the final coup against the Union that would secure Confederate independence once and for all. Previous to this, there had been some debate in the Confederate cabinet. Late victories had been sullied by the disaster in Kentucky, which almost destroyed Bragg’s army and led to the liberation of nearly the entire state of Tennessee. Thomas’ victory had been enough to barely rescue sagging Northern morale, and the Lincoln administration trumpeted it. They had reason for celebration, since now they were poised to strike at the vitals of the Confederacy, including Georgia, a state vital for the Southern war effort.

    Some members of the cabinet argued for sending troops to stop Thomas’ advance. Longstreet said that it would be possible to push Thomas back to the Ohio that way. This could even force Grant to abandon Vicksburg and go to Thomas’ aid. But General Lee was opposed to the idea, and instead proposed a bold plan for invading the North. Such an invasion, Lee insisted, would embolden Northern Copperheads and give the coup de grace to the Lincoln Administration. It would also convince Britain and France to recognize the Confederacy, which would be enough to force Lincoln’s hand if he did not surrender first. Lee also hoped to feed his soldiers on the enemy’s country, showing both the weakness of the Yankees and relieving Virginia’s tired farms.

    Lee’s proposal was born out of these objectives and the fear that the Army of the Susquehanna, which despite the losses at Bull Run still outnumbered him, would grow even larger. It reflected too his single-minded focus on Virginia, and a lack of consideration for overall strategy that made him disregard the importance of the West. But it was also a result of a confident belief he and his Army were “almost invincible, certainly capable of inflicting a devastating defeat on any opponent.” The élan and high morale the Army of Northern Virginia would carry into the battle was unprecedented, their reputation and prestige so great that they believed themselves capable of even the impossible. So Lee practically affirmed, saying his soldiers “will go anywhere and do anything if properly led. " This “overconfidence in their own prowess and a contempt for the enemy” would soon enough led the Army of Northern Virginia to disaster.

    Lee’s soldiers were not the only ones dazzled by these Napoleonic dreams of conquest. The cabinet, too, came around to Lee’s point of view. Even Longstreet, who proposed the alternate plan, turned around and supported Lee because “the prospect of an advance changes the aspect of affairs”. Davis too supported the plan. President Breckinridge, finally, approved the offensive, and he even stripped the coastal defenses to have more troops for Lee. These new troops would bolster the Army to 95,000 men, which allowed for a partial reorganization of it into four corps. A.P. Hill was promoted to corps commander, while General Beauregard was recalled to Richmond to command the other, as a political gesture that Breckinridge hoped might soothe his bitterness.

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    George Bayard, the new head of the Union Cavalry

    Facing the rebels would be John F. Reynolds’ Army of the Susquehanna. Some, in their haste to condemn Hooker, have forgotten that the Battle of Bull Run was not a complete rebel success. Lee lost some 20,000 men, almost 4,000 more than Hooker. Thanks to conscription, the Army of the Susquehanna grew to 130,000 men, 30,000 of them Black recruits, including the 54th Massachusetts. The Army also had undergone some soul-searching, and reforms in strategy and training ensured higher quality soldiers. The most important reform was that new men were added to existing regiments, allowing for the transfer of experience from veterans to green troops. An emphasis on skirmishing also would improve the tactics of the infantry. The cavalry, consolidated into one corps under Hooker, would now be able to give the rebels a fair fight, being competently led, better equipped and fed than their rebel counterparts.

    More important than anything, was how most Yankee soldiers, now convinced that they were fighting for the very soul and future of their country, were far from whipped, but instead imbued with a determination to triumph. The men, an officer commented, “have something of the English bull-dog in them. You can whip them time and again, but the next fight they go into, they are . . . as full of pluck as ever. . . . Some day or other we shall have our turn." Virginia and Maryland Confederates had attacked them continuously, but “their morale rose with the latitude” as Pennsylvania people instead cheered them openly. "The idea that Pennsylvania is invaded and that we are fighting on our own soil proper, influences them strongly”, concluded a commander. “They are more determined than I have ever before seen them."

    The campaign started on April 17th. Lee decided to send Jackson to the Valley, while he would go forward and confront Reynolds. They would reunite later in Pennsylvania. Jackson and his men were eager to confront Pope, who, decided to bring hard war to the East, had inaugurated a new ruthless policy. Assigned to the Shenandoah Valley, Pope had done his best to lay waste to it and prevent its supplies and men from aiding the Confederate cause. Consequently, farms were plundered for food and then torched, hundreds of rebel marauders were hung without trial, and property was wantonly destroyed. Pope was not the only man who wanted to bring the terrible consequences of war to the Dixie boys. Alongside him, thousands of Maryland partisans engaged in warfare similar to the one seen in Missouri and Kansas. Named “Jayhawkers” in honor of their western counterparts, these partisans felt abandoned by inept Union commanders, and thus answered to no orders from Pope or Philadelphia. Consequently, heads appeared in pikes and corpses in ditches with appalling regularity. Whether someone was secesh or Unionist, man or woman, civilian or fighter, did not matter. As in Kansas, this pushed men to take sides and only increased the bloodshed.

    A year ago, the Maryland Jayhawkers would have probably been prosecuted as criminals; now, the Union turned a blind eye to their atrocities because the rebels too were engaging in gory terror. Colonel Imboden of Virginia’s Partisan Cavalry had ordered his men "to wage the most active war against our brutal invaders . . . to hang about their camps and shoot down every sentinel, picket, courier, and wagon driver we can find . . . to expulse or kill every man who aids them in their war of extermination”. They carried these orders to their terrible consequences – Pope reported that scores of officers and soldiers had had their throats slit, and that a regiment that surrendered to a rebel attack was butchered to the last man.

    It’s important to stress that guerrilla bands, whether Union or Confederate, acted usually without knowledge or approval from Richmond or Philadelphia, and that both Lincoln and Breckenridge were powerless to stop them. Still, Southern civilians believed the Jayhawkers to be backed by the Lincoln Administration. Even if they were not, Pope’s own actions were still enough to earn the condemnation of the Southern public and press. These lamentable acts informed Jackson’s resolve to not only defeat Pope, but humiliate him. With 20,000 men he advanced to the Valley in April 2nd, intending to defeat Pope’s 25,000 bluecoats. Some did express worry about how Lee divided his force, but he waved them off. “Those people”, he said, “are in a very demoralized and chaotic condition, and will not undertake offensive operations for three or four weeks. Before that time I hope to be on the Susquehanna.”

    C7F1F174-B0A2-1F66-DBE5894A29461A8B.jpg

    Franz Siegel

    Jackson rode forward with the dazzling speed that characterized his Stonewall Brigade. Despite how feared Jackson was, Lincoln saw an opportunity. By splitting his army, Lincoln reasoned, Lee had given them an opportunity to destroy each isolated part. Unfortunately for the Union, Pope was not up to the task. Stonewall was too fast and too slippery for the Union General. Pope’s cavalry, weakened due to rebel partisans, thus reported Jackson to be in several places at once, and Pope issued a stream of order and counter-orders that gave his campaign an erratic air. When he finally localized Jackson at Winchester, he sent in Franz Siegel and his “Dutch Corps” to bag him. Mostly formed out of Germans, the Dutch Corps had performed poorly at the Peninsula and Bull Run; now, it failed even more miserably. Jackson easily threw back their assault and Siegel immediately retreated.

    Jackson pursued, and caught not only Siegel but Pope just below Harpers Ferry, going through passes that Pope had neglected to defend. Pope’s attempt to defeat Stonewall himself ended in grief when Jackson surged from an unexpected angle, and the Army of Virginia fled in disgrace. Partially to blame was Pope’s decision not to use several Black regiments he had at his disposal. Though a Radical Republican, Pope had not believed them ready for battle and apparently feared that Jackson and his rebels would slaughter them if defeated. When Pope abandoned Harpers Ferry, several of the Black regiments there decided to defend it to the last man. The rebels made sure this grim pledge would be fulfilled, butchering almost 200 surrendering soldiers. Jackson regretted the event, but did nothing to punish his men and simply continued north, arriving at Sharpsburg in May 4th.

    Meanwhile, Lee and the main part of the Army of Northern Virginia advanced North. Reynolds did not propose to merely see them invade the North, and instead set off in a hot pursuit. A couple of weeks before the start of the campaign, Lincoln had visited the Army camps and been received with enthusiasm. “Long and hearty was the applause and welcome which greeted him,” commented a soldier, “His presence after the late disasters . . . seemed to infuse new ardor into the dispirited army.” Lincoln visited the wounded, mourned the dead, and fraternized with the living. “Father Abraham”, no matter the bleakness of the Union cause, was evidently a popular figure with the soldiers, which gratified the embattled President. Lincoln had invited reporters along, which frankly disgusted Reynolds, because he intended to give a speech to bolster the morale of not just the troops, but the whole North.

    This war was started two years ago. An organized and powerful rebellion sought to destroy the Union, but the loyal North would accept war rather than let the nation perish. . . . We did not want war. We were forced into this contest for the supremacy of the Union by an enemy that will not surrender until we are conquered . . . and will take actions that have shocked the civilized world to assure the outcome . . . Such a foe . . . demands from us greater devotion to the nation, to preserve it, not only for our descendants, but for many generations to come . . .​
    The insurgent leader will accept nothing short of severance of the Union, precisely what we will not and can not give . . . He does not attempt to deceive us. He affords us no excuse to deceive ourselves. He can not voluntarily reaccept the Union; we can not voluntarily yield it. Between him and us the issue is distinct, simple, and inflexible. It is an issue which can only be tried by war and decided by victory. Thousands of brave men have nobly advanced this cause, by laying down their lives so that the nation might live. Let us take increased devotion from these men, and resolve that they shall not have died in vain. Let us here highly resolve that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.​

    president-lincoln-reviewing-union-army-5879951.jpg

    Lincoln reviewing the troops

    Inspired by these words, the Army set forward in their campaign against the rebels, which started scarcely two weeks later. The first major engagement took place near Frederick, along the Monocacy, a tributary of the Potomac. Lee knew that he could not simply ignore Reynolds, and, confident of victory, decided to make a stand there, the Monocacy dividing both armies. Reynolds, on April 25th, tried to turn the rebel flank by sending in a couple of corps. However, the cavalry under Stuart was able to stall the advance long enough for Longstreet to arrive and attack the flanking column. This is where Reynolds committed a fatal mistake, owed to his tendency for micromanagement. Riding to the front personally, the Union commander led a counterattack that slowly pushed Longstreet back. This left the rest of his army without an overall commander at a critical time. Lee, meanwhile, shifted his troops to the left to meet Reynolds’ assault.

    This movement created a gap in the rebel line, as the new corps commanders, Beauregard and A.P. Hill, could not coordinate well enough to move at the same time. General Meade saw his chance to establish a bridge on the other side of the river, but among the corps commanders only Hancock was willing to take this risk. General Sedgwick, a man who was said to dread responsibility, refused to move without a direct order from Reynolds. In this he was joined by General Abner Doubleday. A New York Yankee and one of the few unabashed Republicans in the Union Army, Doubleday had been posted at Fort Moultrie when secession occurred. They had moved to Fort Sumter, but had been ordered back by a fearful Buchanan. There, a rebel shelling forced them to surrender, though the event was little noted for the attention of the country was focused on the besieged Washington. Still, Doubleday would go on to obnoxiously claim that the Civil War had in truth started in Fort Moultrie, and because he fired the first shot in defense, he claimed the moniker “The Hero of Moultrie” for himself.

    Doubleday commanded a corps of United States Colored Troops that day. That opened him to some ridicule, as many men still doubted the capacity of the Black soldiers, even though they had already proven they were able to die just as bravely as whites in the Battle of Canton. Still, Doubleday was the only one willing to command them – even Reynolds showed reluctance and had only accepted out of extreme need. Doubleday, like Sedgwick, refused to move without an express order, starting a bitter feud with Meade. Tall and slim, Meade was from a rich merchant family and as a result well-versed in military literature and fluent in French. Thin-skinned and jealous of his reputation, he was called an Old Snapping Turtle by troops and subordinates who had been on the receiving end of his wrath. It was almost a given that he would feud with someone like Doubleday, and when he refused to head Meade and move forward, the feud intensified.

    Meade and Hancock decided to disregard their comrades and crossed the river, arriving in the middle of Beauregard and A.P. Hill’s corps. Beauregard, to his credit, refused to panic, but something strange happened in Hill. Usually a brilliant division commander and a flamboyant man who often left himself be carried by emotion, Hill performed poorly at Frederick. Hill, in truth, suffered from health problems that often impaired his performance. He hadn't allowed them to hold him back before, bravely leading his men. A special quirk of his was putting on a red calico shirt before battle, making joyous shouts of "Little Powell's got his red shirt on!" go through the line. But now, despite his red shirt, he was all but paralyzed by a bout of illness. Whether it was owed to venereal disease he had contracted at West Point or some kind of psychosomatic disorder cannot be discerned, but the result was clear enough – Hill was unable to react quick enough, as his subordinates tried to resist the Union advance without any guidance.

    The sudden appearance of the Yankees on the other side of the river started a rout, as Hill’s corps were unable to put up much of a fight. A bewildered Lee was suddenly thrust to the front lines, and the rebel General was ready to mount a horse and led a counterattack himself when the soldiers shouted for him to remain safely behind: “Lee to the rear!” Unfortunately for the Union, Beauregard remained able to attack, and so his rebels went forward with a powerful cry and shattered the Union advance. By that point, Sedgwick had decided to finally act and he sent in his corps to aid Meade. He almost ordered Doubleday to join him, but then fearful of the rebels suddenly turning their flank, he left him behind. The USCT, many of whom were eager to “show the White man what the coloreds can do”, found this outrageous, but obeyed. By the time Sedgwick crossed the river, all he could do is cover Meade and Hancock’s retreat.

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    Doubleday is sometimes falsely credited with being the creator of baseball

    Reynolds then returned at last, having failed to break Longstreet. That's when Lee, reasoning that Reynolds had to weaken his flanks to reinforce his center, started a flank attack that hit Sedgwick on the side. The Federals were taken by surprise and a rout began. Reynolds was only narrowly able to regain command and form a line that stopped the rebel slaught. In a meeting with his commanders, the appalled Union General showed regret at this micromanaging and promised not do it again. The Union prepared, then, for another attack. But just at that moment a courier arrived in a lathered horse. The young man was in almost complete panic as he relayed a terrible message: Baltimore had risen in rebellion.

    Among those who sympathized with the South in Baltimore, passions still ran high. The policies of the Lincoln administration had alienated many, but the iron-fisted rule of Butler helped along too. The General enforced the government's’ policies with such ruthlessness than outraged Southerners took to calling him “Beast Butler”, for he had no qualms arresting the opponents of the Union and even hanged a youth who tore down the national flag. Butler’s actions stiffened the resolve of these Confederates, who saw in Lee’s invasion an opportunity to throw off the Yankee yoke. The Baltimore Uprising, it was discovered later, was not a spontaneous event, but rather the product of a conspiracy between the Confederates of the city and the Southern government. Breckinridge and Lee were well aware of this conspiracy before the campaign started, and thus Lee had crossed North with direct orders to hasten to Baltimore's aid as soon as the uprising occurred. But it took place way earlier than expected.

    Indeed, Lee had hoped for it to start after he had taken Harrisburg, but exaggerated reports of a great victory at Frederick meant that many rebels could not wait any longer. On April 28th, a sudden explosion near the soldiers’ barracks resulted in the death of scores of people, including civilians, and unleashed a series of murderous and destructive riots. Baltimore had already blazed two years ago, but the slaughter that day was even worse. Black people and Unionists were targeted and murdered without remorse, public buildings were torched, and a direct attack at Butler’s headquarters was barely thrown back. Exposing the true nature of the riots, the ringleaders raised Confederate flags and proclaimed their independence from “the Beast of Baltimore and the Beast of Philadelphia.” Butler, with few troops because most were off chasing Lee, requested urgent reinforcements. Reynolds was forced to disengage by these news, allowing Lee to slip North.

    The jubilant rebels believed they had repeated the Peninsula, and Lee himself was convinced that the Yankees' morale had collapsed and they had fled ingloriously. Lee continued north through Western Maryland after Frederick and fully observed the devastation the war had wrought. He had planned to live off the land, but it was clear that there was little food there. He was also running low on ammunition and did not know yet whether Jackson had been successful. Knowing that the Federals could not allow Washington to fall a second time, he sent Beauregard south to menace the city, hoping that Reynolds would take the bait and pursue him instead, or at least detach a large part of his army. Beauregard would take in supplies and then return to the main command through the Valley with the ammunition required, while Lee would reunite with Jackson and, hopefully, with a mountain of supplies.

    Such a ruse may have worked beforehand, but many factors had changed. For one, the improved Federal cavalry could detect that only one corps was going south while the main Army continued north. Furthermore, the rebels had beforehand had a large network of sympathizers who kept them informed of Union movements; now it was the reverse, with Maryland and Pennsylvania Unionists informing Reynolds of Jackson’s movements. Free from Lincoln's meddling, Reynolds decided to send Doubleday south to pursue and destroy Beauregard, managed to shave off some divisions to aid Butler, and continued with the great majority of his men north to face Lee once again. Lee could see that a part of the Army of the Susquehanna was moving south, but he did not know the number of men or the exact position and strength of the main body. In an attempt to gather accurate information, Lee sent in Stuart, but the rebel cavalryman got a nasty surprise when Bayard managed to defeat him at the Battle of Taneytown. Bayard then took advantage of his great numerical superiority, dividing his cavalry in two. One half set off to pursue Stuart, while the smaller half returned to Reynolds to serve as his eyes and ears. Stuart would not return to Lee for a couple of weeks, leaving the rebel commander practically blind. Nonetheless, he continued his advance.

    As Lee and Jackson advanced through Pennsylvania, they took everything they needed to feed their hungry men. To try and bolster the Copperheads, Lee had prohibited the looting of property, but this was honored on the breach. McPherson affirms that “Lee's invasion became a gigantic raid for supplies that stripped clean a large area of south-central Pennsylvania”. Abuses where committed left and right, as Confederates stole everything they could, sometimes leaving Confederates I.O.U.s, sometimes not. The cities of Chambersburg and York were robbed of everything useful and then set in fire, the same with nearby farms. Confederates also took to destroying industry and railroads, and seized thousands of horses and cattle. In an unpardonable act, the Army kidnapped scores of Free Blacks and hauled them South as slaves. Longstreet’s troops outright broke into stores, the general’s justification being that “it's very sad— very sad; but this sort of thing has been going on in Virginia more than two years. Very sad.”

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    The Baltimore Uprising

    Lee and Jackson finally reunited at the small village of Gettysburg with their haul of supplies. While the men ate contently, the commanders met to decide their course. Distressing news had arrived: first, Reynolds had refused their bait and was moving north to confront them again; second, the Baltimore uprising had started far earlier than expected. Lee well knew that political factors demanded he go and aid the insurgents. Breckinridge so had told him, stressing how vital it was for the Confederacy to show that it would support its partisans if they wanted to one day retake Tennessee and Kentucky. Confident on his capacity to defeat the Federals again, Lee decided to abandon his plans to take Harrisburg (which would have been a symbolic gesture anyway); instead he would turn back and destroy Reynolds. Once that was accomplished, Confederate control over Maryland would be reestablished and Lee could return to Richmond with Lincoln’s surrender on his pocket. Reynolds was informed of Lee’s southward turn by his cavalry. After discussing it with his commanders, he decided to fight it out at the Pipe Creek line, near a village called Union Mills.

    While the main parts of both armies prepared for battle, Beauregard and his corps prepared to assault Washington. He had crossed the Potomac, pursued by Doubleday’s corps. As soon as they realized that their enemy would be Black troops, the graybacks gave into racist contempt, some apparently feeling insulted that Reynolds hadn’t thought them worth White troops. That’s when news of Baltimore reached both Beauregard and Breckinridge. The anxious Confederate President knew almost nothing of how the campaign was developing. Beauregard could assure that they had achieved a victory at Frederick, but when asked of Lee’s current location, he only knew that he was heading towards Pennsylvania. The President fretted that this meant that Baltimore’s Confederates were left alone. Consequently, he ordered Beauregard to defeat Doubleday and liberate Baltimore, instead of going through the Valley like Lee had ordered. Beauregard resented being ordered directly by Breckinridge, but since he was commander in-chief he had no option but to obey. In any case, he was sure that the Black troops were no match for him.

    The USCT were decided to prove him wrong. Aside from a numerical superiority of 30,000 to 20,000, they were behind well-fortified lines with exhaustive artillery support, while Beauregard would have to cross the Potomac and assault them head-on. The attack, a rebel soldier would say later, “was not war, but murder.” For many terrible and bloody hours, the rebels attacked the Union position at Fort Saratoga, while the desperate Black troops resisted admirably. The USCT knew they were fighting not only for their lives, but for the future of the Union and of emancipation. Moreover, in their shoulders was not only their reputation as a fighting unit, but the reputation of all Black Americans. Their heroism and ability made Beauregard’s attack came to a disastrous failure, and when Doubleday ordered a counterattack the entire rebel force was routed and scattered. It was a complete reversal of how two years ago Beauregard had attacked and burned the city; now, the “Conqueror of Washington” was retreating in shame while the victorious Black troops celebrated jubilantly.

    Beauregard was barely able to flee with a handful of survivors, who trudged wearily to Richmond. In the capital, the news that he had been defeated so miserably, by Black men no less, spelled doom for many. Breckinridge, in particular, confided to a friend that he was sure that something had gone horribly wrong with the entire campaign. Doubleday wired the news to Reynolds, who was pleasantly surprised that the Black troops had performed so admirably. He recalled him to Union Mills, to take part in the developing battle. Through a series of forced marches, Doubleday arrived quickly. In the way, “a miraculous event” took place, as White Maryland Unionist cheered them. Previously, they had been cold when the USCT marched along; now, they shouted with joy. After their engagements, the troops were tired so Reynolds held them in reserve, as a kind of “secret weapon”, for Stuart, who hadn't returned to Lee yet, could not inform his leader of the defeat at Fort Saratoga or the fact that Reynolds had concentrated his entire force.

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    The Battle of Frederick

    On May 13th, Union scouts reported that Lee was approaching the Pipe Creek. From west to east, the line could be divided into three sectors: Uniontown, Union Mills, and Manchester. This high terrain of ridges and hills would be easily defensible, not only protected by height but by the Pipe Creek itself. The only weak spot of the line was around Uniontown, where the terrain was planer and broader. Stuart still hadn't returned, so Lee could not know the exact disposition of the terrain or the positions of Reynolds' corps. Still, he ordered his men forward against the skirmish line Reynolds had created. The Yankees immediately fell backwards to their defenses. The first tragic mistake took place then. Hill, placed at Manchester, was too sick to properly command, so instead of stopping when the Yankees went behind the hills, his troops continued the attack. Suddenly, the roar of artillery broke through the skies, resulting in nothing less than a massacre as fire was hurled at the unprotected rebels. Hill was barely able to prevent a rout when General Sickles counterattacked.

    At the same time, Longstreet was faced with the strong lines at Union Mills. A cautious commander, he warned Lee that Reynolds was baiting them into an attack against difficult positions, where prospects of success were dim and bloodshed was assured. He proposed instead to disengage and turn back, forcing Reynolds to pursue them and abandon his defenses. Lee refused. He was hoping to destroy the enemy, and thought this was an ideal chance. To retreat then, he believed, would destroy the morale of his men, who held the Yankees they had “beaten so constantly", a British officer said, "in profound contempt”. "The enemy is there, and I am going to attack him there," Lee asserted. Despite a “sad conviction of impending disaster”, Longstreet followed orders and attacked Meade with all his force. He was able to force him out of the hills, but a counterattack pushed him back; Longstreet then attacked again but was rebuffed when Meade committed his last reserves to the fight. A final charge by General Pickett was unable to carry the hills again.

    While Hill faltered and Longstreet struggled, Jackson was moving towards Uniontown. But he did not know the exact disposition of the Union forces. Due to this, Jackson collided with the Union line. Instead of pulling back and organizing for a proper attack, he simply sent in his divisions, one at a time. Ultimately, a last rebel charge was able to capture the first Union line, perhaps due to the superiority of his veterans over the green Union conscripts. Night fell over a bloody battlefield, ending the battle for the day. Lee believed that only Hill had truly failed, and was convinced that another assault would be able to break the Union lines. However, both Longstreet and Jackson were reluctant to renew the attack when it had resulted in such high casualties. Instead, Jackson proposed to turn the Union flank, assuring Lee that his feared Stonewall Brigade would be able to break the Yankees completely at Manchester. Longstreet energetically backed the plan, and Lee finally approved it, adding that the demoralized Yankees would break in the face of a rebel assault just as they did in the Peninsula, Bull Run and Frederick.

    The second day of Union Mills was filled only with artillery battles and inconclusive skirmishes, as most of the Army of Northern Virginia pulled back to regroup, rest, and prepare for a flank movement. That’s when Doubleday and the USCT arrived, and Reynolds quickly assigned them to the reserve. On May 14th, under the cover of the night, Jackson, who had once again only managed a few hours of sleep, marched to the Union flank. The same darkness that concealed them hid some Union scouts, who quietly but quickly returned to warn Reynolds of the advance. The rebels, for their part, lacked accurate knowledge of the terrain due to Stuart's absence, and could not know just how strong the Union positions were. Reynolds had learned that Lee would attack his flank, hoping to weaken his center and then attack it. By maintaining the strength of his center he could foil these attacks, provided the flank resisted. The USCT immediately offered to reinforce the position, and Reynolds, impressed by their performance at Fort Saratoga, ordered them thee. Concealed by the hills, the USCT got into position.

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    USCT at the Battle of Fort Saratoga

    At dawn-break, Jackson was surprised when he found the USCT opposed to him. But instead of being cowed, the rebels let out a contemptuous laugh. “We couldn’t believe that they put up niggers against us,” one would say later. “The boys were eager to go and show ‘em what we did with the Negroes of Harpers Ferry”. The attack went forward, Jackson and his men expecting an easy victory. With a chilling rebel yell, the entire line advanced with “parade ground precision”, in a spectacle of glory and valor. “Jackson's charge represented the Confederate war effort in microcosm”, comments James McPherson, “matchless valor, apparent initial success, and ultimate disaster.” When the rebels reached the line and assaulted it with all their might, they were expecting the Black troops to simply break and run way. The Yankees, after all, had always broken in the face of such assaults. But something unexpected happened: the Black troops resisted the charge. They did retreat to the second line of defense, but a rout had not taken place. Then a cry sounded forth, “Give ‘em hell 54!”

    At the very front of the USCT was one of the first Black regiments raised in the North, the 54th Massachusetts. Their leader, Colonel Shaw, had been ordered to hold the line and counterattack if possible. He judged that it was possible now. The rebels were exhausted from many hours of fighting and had been massacred by artillery fire. The survivors were caught unprepared when the 54th swept forward with a powerful charge of bayonets that threw them back. The assault was a bloody one. The 54th, after the battle, would count upwards to 50% casualties, and Shaw himself lost his life in the battle. But it caused an “electric shock” to go through the Union lines, and soon enough the rest of Doubleday’s corps and many of Hancock’s divisions rushed into the fight, shouting “Chambersburg! Chambersburg!”, and “The Union Forever!” The bewildered rebels, who had not been expecting such a counterattack, fled back in panic. Their retreat soon turned into a rout, with the Yankees only advancing forward with greater force as they realized that they had defeated the feared Stonewall.

    From their position behind the lines Doubleday and Hancock observed the scene. “Who ordered that?”, Doubleday asked an awed courier. “Providence itself, sir”, the youth answered. The “Miracle of Manchester” has been justly remembered as one of the great moments in American history, not only for its importance as the decisive action of the Battle of Union Mills, but for its significance. Here was a Union Army corps formed out of Black recruits, many of them formed slaves, not only resisting the advance of the Confederates, but defeating them decisively. It was, to many abolitionists and African Americans, a material representation of the end of slavery and the death knell of rebellion. Even nowadays, it’s a point of pride in the Black community that the Black man saved the Republic at Union Mills.

    Reynolds did not waste any time ordering a general counterattack all along the Union line. Simultaneous assaults by Longstreet and Hill had once again come to grief with high casualties. Lee had expected Reynolds to weaken his line to reinforce his flank; in actuality, the reverse was happening. That’s when news that Jackson’s corps had been broken arrived, followed quickly by a great battle cry as the Yankees swept forward. Hill’s corps was broken too. They had been badly bloodied already, and were rather demoralized. When the Yankees came forward, they barely put up any resistance and fled instead. Only Longstreet was capable of fighting still, and even he was forced back. The entire rebel army had been routed with appalling casualties. "It's all my fault," Lee said, as he desperately tried to form a new defensive line. "It is I who have lost this fight, and you must help me out of it the best way you can. All good men must rally.”

    They rallied, but it was for naught. Jackson’s corps was still disorganized, affording Reynolds a unique opportunity to send in Bayard’s cavalry, which had just returned from its vicious race with Stuart. In one of the few grand cavalry charges of the war, Bayard went forward and bloodied Jackson some more. Lee was only barely able to withstand a second counterattack, and thanks to Bayard he was forced to flee not to the south, but north towards Gettysburg. The jubilant Yankees quickly broke into celebration. An officer wrote down yet another miracle, as he observed how men who had scoffed at the very idea of Black troops seemingly threw their prejudices aside and were now hugging their Black comrades, shouting and singing together. Similar euphoria was observed in Philadelphia, where Lincoln received a telegraph informing him that “the insurgent force has been ingloriously beaten and is now fleeing the field.” But what caused the President to almost jump with joy was Reynolds’ next line: “I propose to pursue the rebel army and destroy it.”

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    The Battle of Union Mills

    The men were just as glad to receive this news. After previous victories they had never actively pursued the enemy, letting him escape. Now, the Army of the Susquehanna would for the first time remain on the field and pursue their foe. "Our spirits rose," recalled one veteran years later, "we marched free. The men began to sing." For the rebels, the experience was decidedly less glorious. As they desperately fled northwards, the chorus of the Battle Cry of Freedom seemed to resonate from every corner. One soldier would after the war say that at that moment, he knew the Confederacy had died. Lee did attempt to make another stand at Gettysburg, but among his troops only Longstreet’s corps was in any condition to fight. Furthermore, since Beauregard had never returned he had practically no ammunition for his artillery. Rebel resistance was brushed aside at Cemetery Hill, and the rebels were routed again at the town itself. Finally, Lee was able to only narrowly stop Reynolds’ advance at Herr’s Hill. The Yankees, of course, were just as exhausted, and their jubilation could only carry them so far.

    Lee was only barely able to reach the Cashtown passes, the way to the Valley through which he could return to Virginia. Several factors then prevented Reynolds from destroying him. Baltimore was still burning, and news came of similar riots at New York. Reynolds, also, gave into his instincts and personally managed the Army’s march through the passes instead of finding another route. In any case, the rebels managed to narrowly slip away, and Reynolds broke off pursuit and headed East to put down the riots. Still, the rebels had been completely defeated. In their chaotic retreat, they had been forced to throw away all the supplies they had collected and many cannons that the Confederacy could ill afford. More disastrously, the Army had lost scores of irreplaceable officers and dozens of thousands of men at Union Mills, which proved to be the bloodiest single battle of the war. Both armies suffered from 35,000 to 40,000 casualties, each. Lee would return to Virginia with less than half of the number of men who crossed into the North with him.

    As the rebels fled, a band tried to lift their spirits by playing “Maryland, My Maryland!”. Hisses forced them to quiet down, and instead they played “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny.” Some 40,000 rebels returned to Richmond, not as victorious conquerors but defeated both materially and spiritually. Indeed, the Battle of Union Mills shattered forever the reputation of Lee and his army as invincible juggernauts, and shook many rebels to their very core, mostly because much of their defeat was owed to the bravery of Black troops. The war would continue, and the Army of Northern Virginia would earn more victories yet. But the Battle of Union Mills and the disastrous Pennsylvania Campaign sealed the fate of the Confederacy, and broke their legend forever. As the full dimensions of the Union victory set in, many Northerners, after months of darkness, finally saw light. The Union cause now marched forward, onto victory.

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    Side-story: "A Baseball Game"
  • So guys, the actual update will take a while because school is very stressing right now and I don't have the time or the energy to work in what it's perhaps the most important update thus far since we'll be seeing the beginnings of Reconstruction. I do have enough time for some light writing, however, so I wanted to write a mini-update regarding the role of women in the Civil War. I don't know if there are any women reading this TL (I'm aware the site is predominantly male - including me) but I think it's important to note their important role in this conflict and how the changes have affected it. Are there any important facts about women or any prominent women you would like to see featured?

    In other news, @DTF955Baseballfan has kindly written another side-story set in the TL, this time about baseball. It's great because, since I'm not American, I know next to nothing about the sport and this is a nice bit of heartwarming Americana.

    A Baseball Game

    "Huzzah!" came the shout for what seemed like the millionth time. "Huzzah, to mighty John Reynolds!"

    Al Reach was stretching on that fine spring day in 1863, having recently heard not only of the great deeds of the Army of the Susquehannah, but of the tremendous aftershocks which seemed to be rising from it. Suddenly, more and more young men were volunteering to fight - or, at least, help to defend.

    "So, what about you?" anotherplayer asked Reach.

    REach was a star first baseman, one of the top players in all of baseball. He was also the first openly professional player; he was paid by the Brooklyn Eckfords, a club not made up of sons of richer families like many clubs but of poorer families in the shipyards and elsewhere in that area.

    "Shipyards are vital. Mobile must be taken, among other places. And, beside, let the boys from the richer families be taken," Reach suggested.

    "Certainly, and make it even easier for the Eckfords than it was last year," another player from the shipyards said with a laugh.

    Reach enjoyed the frivolity. But, he also enjoyed something else, as the game of base ball's first professional athlete - well, first openly professional one, anyway. He was beginning to feel the desire to compete that would push countless athletes to be the best they could be, to press on toward incredible records. And, in the back of his mind, the desire for more money - Philadelpiha, next year, would pay him $1,00 a year to jump teams and play for them. He was alredy hearing rumblings that they might be interested if he had a good year this year.

    For now, Reach enjoyed the smell of the cool, crisp spring air. One day, there would be peace, the rebellion would be crushed, and somehow, base ball would be reshaped. The game had already seen many changes just in the last few decades - the Massachusetts game (first to 100 runs) versus the New York rules, for instance. As a famous film would state many decades later, "The one constant through all the years, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good and that could be again."

    Meanwhile, an officer with the Pennsylvania National Guard - having inspected the Philadelphia shipyards - was making his way to New York, to the shipyards where Reach worked.There had been draft problems in New York earlier in the year, he had a speech to give to encourage people.

    Reach was intrigued, especially when he heard this man was also quite skilled at base ball. He decided, during a break in his work at the shipyards, that he'd like to meet the man. He'd heard much about the amazing, crushing defeat Colored troops had inflicted ont he rebels. Could such men be equally adept at base ball?

    "Major Catto," the foreman said after Catto's speech, "this is Mr. REach, one of my best workers. Mr. Reach, Major Catto."

    They spoke for a couple minutes concerning Catto's attempts to raise troops in his native Pennsylvania - both to fight and to defend the capital - and his present goal of speaking and encouraging men to volunteer. The government preferred that white men lead black troops for the moment yet, though that could change, and besides, he had done a good job organizing the area blacks to defend the temporary Capital should it be threatened, so why mess with a good thing, the government had argued.

    Finally, Reach said, "I understand you are quite proficient at base ball. I, too, am quite skilled at the game. I have considered coming to Philadelphia to work; have you been to the shipyards there?" He had actually been already getting some questions about jumping to the city's Athletics.

    "Yes, things there are going quite well. I came to boost morale, as I said in my speech we in Pennsylvania feel an even greater duty than we might have with not only the nation's temporary capital but also the recent invasion there."

    "It was a glorious victory," Reach said. "I hope you have had success in gaining recruits; we have had quite a few men leave, though - while I registered for the draft - there is great work to be done here."

    Catto agreed. "We have had great success since the invasion began. I helped to organize defenses of Philadelphia right away, because of our temporary capital. I have even met - very briefly - with the President, though I hope to do so more extensively later to discuss issues regarding Civil Right," Catto declared, interested to see Reach's stance on it.

    Reach, like many Northerners, was ambivalent. He knew America had been erased and reshapen, in a way, with the Constitutional Convention replacing the Articles of Confederation. It would be again here on a much more dramatic scale. And, the future seemed uncertain; they had to get through tis war first.

    Still, with the subject having been brought up, he was at least willing to ask. "Apart from an end to slavery, what is it you people want?"

    Catto sensed some confusion, maybe a little defensiveness or even hostility, but he didn't take offense. He knew this was going to take a while. But, the answer was simple. Right away, he replied evenly, "Just the same thing you white people have always had." He could have gone further to explain: Freedom of opportunity; The right to have any job we want, as long as we're qualified. The right to vote; All the other things that mark a free people. But,he knew the discussion had to begin with something simple.

    Reach thought about it. He'd never really considered what would happen after the war. Now, for the first time, he was really pondering the immense task at hand. These people would be starting from scratch. After a moment, he asked, "How are we going to educate all these new Freedmen so they can do this?" The task seemed insurmountable.

    "I agree, it will be hard. It will be hard teaching an entire people to read and to write, to enjoy the fruit of their own labor. It will be hard that it's okay to talk together, to work together, to sit and eat together, to live together." Nonchalantly, he had cleverly turned the concept from just educating the freedmen to making life fairer for everyone. After all, someday they would have to serve side by side on interracial jries, for instance.

    Catto continued as he pulled out a prop - a baseball, stitched together by hand, nothing like that which would bear Reach's name decades later.

    "But, have you observed children playing together? They don't think of anything but the fun they are having. Which is why I believe baseball can be used as a teaching tool, to get to know one another, so there is not the mistrust."

    Seeing Reach was ready, he lightly tossed the ball to him. Soon, they were having an easy game of catch in the middle of the shipyard.

    "True. That is the way they play." Although, in a world where Reach could earn what at that time was big money - he would be paid $1,000 a year soon, given the thousands who showed up for some games - it was not quite the innocence of youth playing in the streets.

    But, he didn't think of that right then. When he did later, he considered that - if this Major Catto or some other player of color were good enough - why couldn't they also be paid like him? Surely there would be enough money to go around. And, there was the nagging fear that money could ruin the game, too.

    "I should like to speak with you more about base ball. I shall look you up when I am in Philadelphia." It was a promise he would keep next year.

    "I would like that very much," Catto said joyfully, dreaming of the possibility that black and white teams could not only compete with one another, but that black and while players like Reach and himself could be on the same team.

    It would take a few years, till after the Civil War, but even President Lincoln would call it a "noble experiment," based on the fact that children did indeed play together like that, and these men were still considered to be playing a child's game."

    For now, as they finished their conversation, Catto and Reach had struck up a friendship. And, the idea that they could have something in common - even if that something were as simple as base ball - was a major step toward bringing that which once was good - the joy of youth, not caring about color but just about fun - could be had again. And the game, and field, would be not only reshaped, but would remain that constant as it played a part in the reshaping of America.
     
    Mini-updates 3: "Our noble women also have aided them at home"
  • Commenting of the need to treat the wounded of the war, the Confederate writer Mary Boykin Chesnut said that hospitals “want money, clothes, and nurses. So, as I am writing, right and left the letters fly, calling for help from the sister societies at home. Good and patriotic women at home are easily stirred to their work.” This was true of both Confederate ladies and Yankee women, for although they could not fight directly, the women took an important part in the war. Befitting the nation’s bloodiest and hardest conflict, the Civil War affected women as much as it affected men, and it’s necessary to study their involvement, sacrifice and hardships in order to truly understand the effects of the war.

    The most direct way in which the war affected women is, of course, the necessary but cruel hardships of war. The fact that they stayed behind in the home front did not spare them from these cruelties, as ruthless Confederate raiders and vengeful Unionist guerrillas often did not make distinction between sexes. But even in relatively calm areas, women had to face economic hardship and political turmoil, and had to suffer the lost of husbands, fathers, sons. Such losses were harder in an era where women were stereotyped as fragile flowers and had limited rights and economic opportunity.

    This did not stop women from doing what they could to aid in their countries’ war effort. This aid ranged from knitting socks for the boys on the front, to organizing charity efforts that provided medicine, food and spiritual comfort to the struggling soldiers. Northern women also led the efforts to provide education and organize freedmen labor. In fact, a majority of the “Yankee emissaries” that flocked to Baltimore and the Sea Islands were women, and it was thanks to them that the Freedmen’s Inquiry Commission was founded. This Commission would in turn lead to the Bureaus of Freedmen and Refugees, Justice and Labor, and Abandoned and Confiscated Lands.

    Nonetheless, in many ways the experience of war was more shocking and traumatizing for the Southern woman. This is due to the fact that the war was largely fought in the South, thrusting civilian women to the frontlines and exposing them to the horrors of the battlefield. Richmond women, for example, saw their city became an enormous field hospital during the Peninsula Campaign; the women of Georgia suffered a similar experience when Bragg’s battered army retreated from Tennessee. Dreadful and proportionally greater Confederate losses meant that more Southern ladies knew the pain of lost. As Mary Chesnut sadly observed, “Grief and constant anxiety kill nearly as many women as men die on the battlefield.”

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    Mary Boykin Chesnut

    Sometimes the battlefield came to the women. Naturally, this happened more often to Southerners, and the Confederacy’s women resisted Union occupation as bitterly as its men did. In New Orleans they three pots at the Yankee invaders, and women rioted too at Baltimore. Some Union women were forced to flee raids or invasions as well – Union officers in Harrisburg observed that the great majority of those who fled Stonewall Jackson’s advance through Pennsylvania were women and children. Many women were reduced to poverty or near-starvation, and as the war turned vicious and cruel, they suffered from abuse and guerrilla brutality too. Recent scholarship has even established that the Civil War is not a “low rape war” as previously believed, for women, especially Black and Native American, suffered from sexual abuse at the hands of soldiers from both sides.

    Despite these horrors, American women were ready to take an active part in the war effort. In many ways, Dixie girls had to surpass greater hurdles than their Yankee sisters, for the agrarian Southern society was more resistant to anything that might seem like female empowerment, compared with the North were factory work and a dynamic economy had made female self-reliance a possibility. A patriarchal form of white supremacy was also at operation here. It’s no coincidence that Southern rhetoric often played on the theme of protecting “white women from the Negro’s lust”. This does not mean that White Southern ladies were not as committed to White Supremacy as their husbands were; indeed, some were even fiercer than them. But it does mean that patriarchy was part of the conservative Southern order the Confederates defended.

    The war eroded this patriarchal order, but unlike slavery it was not enough to destroy it. Southern ladies, most Confederates believed, should stay home, take care of the house and the children, and limit their support to knitting when the boys were at the front and receiving them affectionately when they returned. But the women refused, and instead took a more active part in the war effort. In this they were inspired by Britain’s Florence Nightingale, the “Lady with the Lamp” that had inaugurated modern nursing and showed Victorian society what women could do. Following her example, Southern women volunteered to serve as nurses, “braving the frowns of brother or father” who thought the bloody battlefield was not place for a lady. Many threw these concerns aside, such as the young Kate Cumming, who “wondered what Miss Nightingale and the hundreds of refined ladies of Great Britain who went to the Crimea, would say to that!"

    Some Southern girls quickly found out what the Dixie boys had already discovered: war was hell. Cumming herself was appalled at the carnage she observed in the aftermath of Corinth: “Nothing that I had ever heard or read had given me the faintest idea of the horrors witnessed here.” Yet she and thousands more braved these conditions in order to help the fighting men: "I sat up all night, bathing the men's wounds, and giving them water . . . The men are lying all over the house, on their blankets, just as they were brought in from the battlefield. . . . The foul air from this mass of human beings at first made me giddy and sick, but I soon got over it. We have to walk, and when we give the men anything kneel, in blood and water; but we think nothing of it."

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    Kate Cumming

    These efforts suffered from the same lack of resources and coordination that affected the entire Southern war effort, yet they do reflect a complete mobilization of the country’s resources. Southern white women soon proved that they had “the stamina, the commitment, the organizational abilities, and the talent” necessary to aid the cause, and in turn surgeons and Army officers started to prefer them over drunk and/or invalid male nurses and slave attendants. The Confederate Congress would finally recognize them with a law that allowed the employment of civilians in Army hospitals, "giving preference in all cases to females where their services may best subserve the purpose." The efforts of Southern nurses were vital for the Confederate medical service, and after the war women’s contribution was “enshrined with a halo of lost cause glory equal to that of Confederate soldiers.”

    Northern women also organized efforts of their own, which thanks to the Yankee superiority in population and manpower would go much farther. Under the direction of Elizabeth Blackwell, the first woman to earn a Medical Doctorate in the United States, some three thousand women formed the Woman’s Central Association for Relief in the Cooper Institute of New York, when the ashes of Washington were still warm. The W.C.A.R. was one of the largest associations thus far, but it was not the first for women had a long history of forming societies and associations advocating for many causes, from temperance to female suffrage to abolitionism. In fact, there are stories of men who voted Lincoln in 1860 because their sweethearts asked for that as a condition to marriage.

    The W.C.A.R. and other societies would join together in 1861 to form the U.S. Sanitary Commission. Modeled in goals and methods after the British Sanitary Commission of the Crimea, “the Sanitary” sought to improve the life and health of the soldiers. This was not limited to training nurses; the Sanitary also raised food and medicine, aided veterans and furloughed soldiers, and inspected camps to correct poor hygiene and keep illnesses at bay. Many of the nurses of the Sanitary even served in “hospital ships” that were vital for the evacuation of the Army of the Susquehanna after the Peninsula Campaign. Despite being attacked by rebel artillery and mines, the women in these ships still probably saved thousands of lives.

    The Sanitary faced opposition from the Army Medical Bureau, which, like other Bureaus, languished under antiquated bureaucracy and old procedures at the start of the war. Lincoln himself was skeptical (calling the Sanitary the fifth wheel of the Medical Bureau), but he signed the order that formally created it. The Sanitary would garner power and influence, and by middle 1862 they were able to successfully lobby for a bill that reformed the Medical Bureau, securing the appointment of their man as the new Surgeon General. The Sanitary and the Medical Bureau would go on to form a successful partnership, and in July, 1862, the Bureau ordered that at least a third of nurses in Army hospitals had to be female.

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    Clara Barton, who after the war formed the American Red Cross

    The soldiers welcomed these reforms, for the female nurses were far more nurturing and capable than their male colleagues. Indeed, in both the Confederacy and the Union the lack of large-scale ambulance and medical services forced the armies to recruit invalid or underage soldiers who, with little morale and zero training, did a rather poor job. “Horror tales” of drunken surgeons and coward ambulance drivers abounded. During the Battle of Bull Run a regiment said that the male nurses assigned to them had got drunk and then bribed the ambulance drivers to carry them to Washington instead of the wounded soldiers.

    An Alabama soldier said in fear that “the Doctors kills more than they cour”, which reflected a widespread feeling that the medical services were incapable. Taking into account the dreadful disease rate and how often men perished even if they received medical attention, it’s easy to buy into the image of Civil War surgeons as butchers. In truth, the Civil War soldier fared better than the soldiers in Crimea or the Mexican War. The failure was owed to the unfortunate fact that the Civil War took place before major medical breakthroughs were achieved. Louis Pasteur had not developed bacteriology yet, and even the nexus between malaria and mosquitoes was still not established. Or, in other words, the doctors could hardly be expected to take into account concepts such as sepsis, antisepsis, and biotics when they hadn’t been developed yet.

    Shortages worsened the situation more – it’s true that some Southern soldiers had to rely on whisky as the only anesthetics available. Despite this, Union and Confederate medics performed admirably with the resources and knowledge they had, and female nurses were an important part of this. Alongside the Sanitary and other associations, some women took matters into their own hands and became practical one-woman aid societies. Clara Barton and Mary Ann “Mother” Bickerdyke were the most famous examples. Barton, a mature spinster with friends in high places, helped to sieve out the incompetent surgeons and improve camp hospitals. Bickerdyke, a “large, strong, indomitable yet maternal woman”, did such a good job cleaning illness-ravaged camps that she earned even the respect of Sherman, a man who seemed to hold in contempt everybody but his fellow soldiers.

    Civil War women could contribute in other ways as well. Some served as spies, scouts and couriers, taking advantage of how women were perceived as harmless. The socialite Rose O’Neal Greenhow, for example, was instrumental in gathering the intelligence that allowed for the assault on Washington. President Breckinridge would personally receive her when the Federals exiled her. On the flipside, Elizabeth Van Lew, who put up a façade as the eccentric but harmless “Crazy Beth”, helped the Union gather information in Richmond and aided Northern prisoners of war to escape. In areas ravaged by guerrilla warfare, it was the women who nurtured and fed the guerrillas, and some women even directly took part in the raids – a Union officer reported that a bridge in Tennessee was burned by a mother-daughter duo.

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    Harriet Tubman

    Black women were just as valuable, escaping and providing intelligence to the advancing Union armies. Those who stayed behind helped along as well, like Mary Elizabeth Bowser, a servant to Confederate Secretary of War Jefferson Davis. Bowser, playing the part of the loyal but dim-witted slave, peeked at important military orders and eavesdropped in his chats with other prominent Confederates. She would then report her findings to Union officials. The most famous, of course, is Harriet Tubman. A veteran of the Underground Railroad, Tubman defied gender expectations and served as a nurse and spy for the Union armies. In early 1863, she personally took part in a raid that liberated some 700 slaves, many of whom would go on to take part in the victory at Union Mills. Tubman was present at the ceremony in honor of the first Black recipient of the Medal of Honor, where the Heroes of Union Mills cheered her.

    In conclusion, the Civil War was not just a man’s war, but affected women as well. The women who remained in the homefront had to face hardship and grief, yet they still contributed to their country’s war economy and proved an important part of the war effort. Thousands took a more active part as nurses that revolutionized the medical services or spies who provided important intelligence. At the same time, they suffered from economic hardship and guerrilla brutality just the same as men, and although the war claimed far more men, many civilian women died as well while others gained emotional scars that would burden them the rest of their lives. Ultimately, examining the role of women is important to understand the full scale of the Civil War.
     
    Side-story: "A Pennsylvania Mother"
  • A Pennsylvania Mother

    “My boy is coming from the war,”
    “He’s coming home to me,”
    “O! how I long to see his face,”
    And hear his voice of glee.
    Of all the days that ever dawned
    This is the brightest day,
    For sad and lonely was my heart
    When Harry went away.

    Chorus:
    My boy is coming from the war
    He’s coming home to me,
    O! how I long to see his face,
    And hear his voice of glee.

    My boy is coming from the war,
    I’ve waited for him long,
    I miss the music of his laugh,
    His light and happy song;
    But now I’ll clasp him in my arms
    And ever by my side,
    He’ll linger while my life glides on
    To quiet eventide.

    Chorus

    -My Boy is Coming from the War

    “My boy is coming from the war!”, said an exuberant Mary. Her joy was easily matched, but not surpassed, by the other mothers in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It was a miraculous transformation, really. Just a few weeks ago, their village was submersed under the most painful anxiety. Though they were protected by the Susquehanna, the people were afraid that the rebels would reach them and burn their city. Or worse. As a result, the entire Lancaster was whipped into a frenzy.

    Or what remained, anyway. Two years of bloody war meant that only women, children and the elderly remained in Lancaster. Mary could not see even a single young man in the crowds that gathered. They could be proud that the majority of their men proved to be brave, joining voluntarily to fight for the Union. Of those who remained, most had been drafted. Only a handful had refused to fight and had skedaddled. They better not show again, Mary thought grimly, for the crowd could easily turn into a mob if faced with cowardly traitors.

    Fortunately, no one interrupted the celebrations. Union flags and colors waved everywhere, and stirring melodies resounded. Once every few minutes, it seemed, a cheerful cry of “Hurrah for Reynolds! Hurrah for Old Abe Lincoln!” sounded forth. They were then rejoined with hurrahs for “Doubleday and his darkies” and shouts of “Down with the traitors!”. For Mary, a veteran abolitionist, the role of the Black man in the victory had been important, and Lancasterians seemed to agree.

    They were Radicals, and proud of that. They had gone for Lincoln, even though the traitor Buchanan was from there, and counted Thad Stevens as one of their sons. And now they could add the greatest general of the Union. Mary’s voice was now hoarse from the frequent cheers, but she didn’t mind. Besides, she was not only cheering the victory, but the fact that her boy was coming from the war. Her sweet David, who had gallantly whipped the rebels at Union Mills, had enlisted as soon as the President called for loyal men to crush the rebellion. His term had not expired, and he planned to reenlist when it did, but he had obtained a furlough and was going to use it to come home.

    Even a couple of weeks with David would be enough to soothe her aching heart. His dad, her husband, had already given up his life for the Union. Father and son had fought together, but only one had fallen at the Peninsula. That dark day, Mary remembered, only somber faces and the sound of weeping were present in Lancaster. The next day McClellan had been burned in effigy and mobs clamored for the blood of traitors, but Mary could not remember for she spent the entire day crying for the fallen.

    It was only her and David now. She was almost tempted to ask him to return to her side, but she understood it was his duty. Even if she had tried to convince him, she knew it was futile. News of the rebels and their barbarity had made her son a true warrior, a worthy successor to John Brown. He would not stop, he claimed, until Johnny Breck and Bobby Lee were hanged. When news came that the traitor Lee was moving north, David was decided to do everything to defend his state. His last letter was just before the victory, saying that he would come home from the war if they were victories. They were, and now several Lancaster boys were coming from the bloody battlefield.

    The celebrations at Lancaster were only sullied by some sad faces, that tended to stay indoors while the rest took part in the jubilee. Some casualty lists had arrived, bearing the names of boys that had paid the last full measure of devotion. Daniel Rawlins, the sandy-haired son of kind Ann who liked to play soldiers with David, had died fighting Stonewall. Alexander Evans had perished earlier, when his arm was amputated only for pneumonia to claim him. Old James and Nelly Evans were inconsolable, and had not come out of their house in days. And poor Johnny Simpson had shared the glory of Union Mills only to fall at Gettysburg, and now his widower father was all alone.

    The bringer of the grim news had made it clear that the lists were incomplete. The bloodbath had been so through, and confusion so widespread, that the Union was still compiling the lists. Yet more hearts would be broken, but Mary was sure the Almighty had spared David. Out of consideration, she abstained from expressing her joy that her boy was coming from the war. So, she shouted only for Reynolds and victory, though inside her happiness at David’s return was overwhelming. Oh, how long had she wished to see his face, to hear his laugh, to have him with her and leave aside sorrow and loneliness if even for a few days.

    The days passed. Celebrations died down, but joy remained. Bill Warnock had returned to his wife and two daughters, and many tears were shared as the father kissed his girls for the first time in two years. Harry Cooper had also returned, though he was now missing a leg. Yet, even if he had to limp instead of run to hug his parents, the welcome was just as sentimental. David had no returned yet, but Mary waited. She heard as yet more soldier boys came from the war, with lightsome steps and the sound of marshal drums. David should, must, come soon, Mary convinced herself. And when he did, she should clasp him in her arms and weep with joy.

    More days passed. Mary remained seated at her lonely and dark table. There was a piece of dry and hard cornbread there. It was David’s favorite food, and she had made some for him. No more boys had returned in a few days, yet she refused to give up hope. That’s when a knock sounded at the door. Her spirits rose, but it was a messenger. She shook her head, dreading the message. She heard his polite greeting, followed by a heartfelt apology. Her heart seemed to skip a beat then. The man then informed her that David had gloriously died at Union Mills. He said something more, but she heard nothing. She could only think of how her boy was not coming from the war, but was lying dead in the bloody battlefield.

    My boy is coming from the war
    The mother fondly said,
    While on the gory battle plain
    Her boy was lying dead!
    His comrades came with lightsome steps
    And sound of martial drums,
    But now that Mother sadly waits
    For one who’ll never come!

    Chorus:
    My boy is coming from the war
    The mother fondly said,
    While on the gory battle plain
    Her boy was lying dead!
     
    Chapter 38: The Great Task Remaining Before Us
  • On May 8th, 1863, a man in a gray overcoat approached a New York hotel. In his bag there were several cannisters of Greek Fire, a chemical substance that was said to ignite fires hotter and harder to extinguish than any other fuel, plus explosives. He attracted no attention in the city, where chaos simmered underneath a façade of peace. Just a few hours later, New York was submerged in a full-on insurrection, several city blocks burning and desperate militia trying to put down brutal urban fighting between Copperheads and Unionists. What had happened?

    The New York powder-keg was especially volatile due to a large immigrant population that resented the domination of Yankee protestants, were Democratic in allegiance and feared competition with Black laborers. The government’s policies were bitterly resisted, especially the draft. But the administration of General Wadsworth would not stand for nullification. Using the militia and Federal troops, Wadsworth enforced the draft ruthlessly, and executed two Irish youths that had murdered an enrollment officer via a military tribunal. Discontent spilled into a riot that was quickly put down by military arms, costing around 25 lives. A tense peace returned to New York. However, on May 1st, 1863, most of the militia and Federal troops were withdrawn and rushed to fight Lee’s rebels. For a week or so, the city remained tranquil, when a rumor started that “those radicals in Congress” had passed a law to draft all males in the city as to better resist the invasion.

    These rumors started when news came of the Baltimore uprising and the defeat at Frederick. Scared New Yorkers believed that the entire army had been annihilated and that the bloodbath at Baltimore was because the men there were resisting a universal draft. Vowing that they would never be drafted, and taking advantage of how the city was barre of military presence, a mob largely composed of Irish laborers approached the draft offices. That’s when Confederate agent John W. Headley, with uncanny timing that’s led many to suspect foul play, set off his explosive. The authorities believed the mob endeavored to burn the city to the ground; the mob thought the police had used artillery against them. The truth would not be revealed until later, when the insurrection had already started.

    New York city was plunged into a violent insurrection that left hundreds dead and destroyed great part of the city. Police headquarters, draft offices, federal installations, the offices of the New York Tribune and other Republican newspapers, all went up in flames. Armories and stores were sacked, and scores of people lynched by the enraged rioters. “No black person was safe”, as the rioters singled them out for particularly brutal punishment, hanging them from light posts and even burning several African American alive. The Colored Orphans Asylum was sacked and torched; miraculously, the children escaped unharmed, but their caretakers and a man who tried to protect them were murdered. Prominent Republicans and the wealthy were also attacked. The lucky ones escaped, leaving their houses to be sacked. The unlucky ones were lynched.

    Elements of class warfare were evident, as the business and property of anti-labor employers was destroyed, along with machinery that had automated menial jobs, leaving many of the rioters unemployed. Protestant churches were burned, while well-dressed men were accosted by rioters that bitterly cried “Down with the rich!”, “Will you be my substitute?”, and “Can your daddy buy me out of the army?” Alongside this chaotic terror, a more insidious and organized plot was underway as at least a dozen Confederate agents were setting off fires and handing out arms and ammunition. The fires ran wild as many of the volunteer firefighters were part of the mob, sometimes lighting buildings in fire themselves. The few that remained were unable to do much.

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    The New York Uprising

    The police were similarly helpless. Lacking the necessary manpower and strategy to put down the mob, the police nonetheless did their best to contain the riots. Seemingly abandoned by the authorities, employers and editors took matters into their own hands, organizing militias that lacked the organization and discipline of the police but shared the bloodthirsty brutality of the mob. Desperate calls for reinforcement to Albany and Philadelphia had only yielded a few hundred soldiers. It is said that many of them were invalid and sick. Unable to put down the mob, the presence of these Lincolnite troops only angered the rioters even more, especially after a showdown at Chatham Square had resulted in dozens of casualties when the soldiers opened fire.

    Until then, the insurrection had seemingly only been an outpouring of popular discontentment and ethnic tensions. Then in City Hall a group of people proclaimed that New York City, unable to live under Lincoln’s despotism anymore, would secede from the Union and conclude a separate peace with the Confederacy. Was this truly the goal of the mob? Most likely not. Quasi-comic scenes took place as some men who had only wanted to loot suddenly realized they were part of a rebellion. But by then, a week into the bloody riots, it was too late to turn back. The Chatham Square massacre and Wadsworth’s uncompromising stance in previous incidents had convinced many rioters that the Army would exterminate them if they surrendered, and soon the impetus for an independent New York Free State grew.

    This only increased the tensions, as Unionists within the city identified the rioters with the rebels. The rebels who had just burned and looted several towns and were headed to Harrisburg and Philadelphia. In the feverish months of crisis previous and during the Campaign, wild stories of Copperhead conspiracies to overthrown the government and assure Southern victory had been shared. The existence of shady organizations such as the Order of American Knights and the Sons of Liberty had been discovered, and scared Republicans quickly magnified them into a “disciplined, powerful organization armed to the teeth and in the pay of John Breckinridge to help him destroy the Union”. With both Baltimore and New York burning at the same time that Lee was invading, it seemed that these conspiracies had finally borne fruit.

    Consequently, militias that had been purely defensive now went on the attack, and men who had stayed in the sidelines now turned out to help against this new rebellion. New York descended into bloody and anarchic urban warfare, as militias of Unionists and Copperheads clashed. The government had lost all control, and soon enough extrajudicial executions and atrocities that resembled the worst of Missouri took place in the middle of Manhattan. In scenes starkly similar to those in Paris during the September massacres, a Unionist mob held mock treason trials that were followed with executions with pikes and knives, while Copperhead rioters bashed the “Black Republican puppies” against stone walls.

    Though gory, these were individual incidents; most violence was contained to less flashy but just as deadly street brawls, fires and shootings. Armed with pikes, knives, maces, pistols and rifles, rioters attacked each other with murderous intent. Henry Raymond’s employees even borrowed experimental Gatling guns and tested them against the mob. Barricades were erected, and whenever one faction managed to carry one, they would usually massacre those left behind. Several people were burned to death, and of many residential areas only ashes remained. Prominent Republicans had to flee for their lives; Horace Greeley only escaped being lynched by hiding behind a wall. Meanwhile, the Confederate agents slipped out of the city, their job done.

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    Black men and Republicans were "pursued like wild beasts" by enraged rioters

    The scenes of violence were similar down in Baltimore. In that city, the riots were explicitly political by contrast, as the rioters sought to expulse the Union authorities and join the Confederacy. At the start of the war, Baltimore had been the scene of bloody riots that prevented Federal troops from passing through and thus secured the fall of Washington. The city had then been briefly occupied by Confederate authorities, who ruled by military fiat, expulsing Unionists, terrorizing Free Blacks and taking everything they could to aid their war effort. A few months later, a Union assault on Federal Hill had unleashed a second wave of riots against the Confederate rulers this time. Black men took part this time, and it was thanks to them and other Union men that the Confederates were unable to put up a good defense and the Union retook the city.

    These events left behind a bloody and bitter legacy, and the actions of “Beast” Butler only increased the discontent of the pro-Confederate population. Similarly to Wadsworth, Butler ruled with an iron fist, and was ready to execute or jail those who resisted Union rule. This reign of terror fanned the flames, and in April 28, after news arrived of the Confederate victory at Frederick, the insurrection started. While the New York riots were more or less spontaneous, the Confederate agents only contributing to the violence rather than starting it, in Baltimore they were the direct result of a Confederate ploy. Indeed, Lee and Breckinridge were well advised of this plot and its “purpose of revolution and the expulsion or death of the abolitionists and free negroes.” Ironically, it was ultimately the political need to take Baltimore that would doom the campaign, but at the time the start of the uprising helped Lee immensely by distracting Reynolds.

    As in New York, the uprising started with an explosion. Soon enough more fires were started and armories sacked, and the “Maryland State Guard” went into attack. These irregular regiments had been organized and armed months previous to the uprising, using gold rebel agents had smuggled into the city. Though of course they lacked training, they had the element of surprise and numerical superiority, for most of Butler’s soldiers were off pursuing Lee. While in New York the situation took a while to degenerate, in Baltimore both soldiers and rioters almost immediately gave in into their most terrible instincts. Black men and Unionists were lynched, while the soldiers and militia treated captured rioters as guerrillas – meaning that they were executed immediately.

    Old scores were settled as Confederates attacked people who were seen as Union collaborators. Others were lynched merely for being “friendly” to Blacks, which could mean as little as simply employing African Americans as laborers. Those who had truly attempted to uplift the freedmen suffered the worst, as the Confederates showed them no mercy. An attack on a school that taught contrabands resulted in a large massacre, and five women, two of them white, were raped by out of control rioters. A prostitute that catered to Black men was hung, while an interracial couple had their hearts pierced. Government buildings and the docks of the city were burned to the ground as crowds waved Confederate flags and cried “Hurrah for Breckinridge! Hurrah for Lee!”

    On the flipside, Unionists proved they could be just as brutal as the rebels. Feeble attempts by the Federal authorities to impose some sort of order or moderation did not bear results, and Unionist rioters were all too willing to maim or execute rebels. Treason was broadly defined here, and people could be lynched simply for not calling for executing the Confederates, or because they weren’t loud enough. Since the Black population of Baltimore was larger, they took part in the riots not as merely victims, but also fighters. This enraged the insurrectionists who showed even more brutality when dealing with them.

    Reynolds and the War Department managed to scrape off a few hundred soldiers that rushed into the city. Volleys of bullets were poured out indiscriminately and the barricades erected by the rebels were assaulted with bayonets. At one point, an ironclad started to fire into the city. But the Confederates held firm, confident in their belief that Lee was coming to save them. In truth, Lee had been routed by Reynolds and was fleeing the scene. But the Baltimore rioters could not know this, and cruelty and massacre continued. By May 22th, both Baltimore and New York were burning, both cities ankle-deep in gore and blood.

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    Many African Americans were forced to flee for their lives

    They were not the only areas were rebel conspiracies had resulted in violence. A minor riot broke up in Annapolis when several of the delegates to the Maryland Assembly attempted to cast their lot with the Confederacy only to be promptly arrested. In Chicago, a group of Copperheads and rebels led by Captain Hines, a Confederate officer that had burned several Ohio towns, attacked a prison and liberated hundreds of Southern prisoners. Hines captured a gunboat, slaughtered the Yankee crew and used the ship to bomb the city, while his agents started several fires in order to distract from their main objective. The city was submerged in chaos as the rebels were expected to attack, but the famished and tired prisoners instead escaped to Canada just before a Federal regiment arrived.

    But by far the greatest bloodshed was in the East. Reynolds, having won at Union Mills, had dispatched several regiments to restore order, thus helping explain why the rebels were not destroyed but merely mauled at Gettysburg. After Lee managed to escape, Reynolds broke off pursuit and headed to Baltimore and New York to put down these insurrections. The fighting men were furious at what they saw as an attempt to secure their defeat, and as they marched towards the burning cities many talked of “exterminating the Northern traitors” and “making secesh traitors roar”. They arrived towards the end of May and “poured volleys into the ranks of rioters with the same deadly effect they had produced against rebels at Union Mills two weeks earlier”.

    Only sheer force was able to restore peace. More than 25,000 soldiers were posted in each city, where they massacred rioters and arrested the ringleaders to be trialed for treason and conspiracy. The fact that the Baltimore uprising had been a result of a conspiracy with Richmond was quickly discovered as men carrying papers and letters were captured. Likewise, a meeting of the Sons of Liberty was broken in Illinois and papers confiscated showing that Vallandigham had conferred with the Confederates and that he held the rank of Grand Commander of the organization. These revelations were followed by even more scandals, as newspapers were found to be financed by Richmond, arms cachets were uncovered, and plans of revolts and insurrections were unearthed.

    “REBELLION IN THE NORTH!! Extraordinary Disclosure! Val's Plan to Overthrow the Government! Peace Party Plot!", cried newspapers that linked these conspiracies, Lee’s campaign and the riots in Baltimore and New York. Richmond, alarmed Unionists cried, had conspired with the Copperheads to sink the Union – and they had almost succeeded. Though the Sons of Liberty and similar associations never enjoyed the support and strength that Republicans attributed to them, it was absolutely true that many prominent Chesnuts had aided them. So admitted the main Confederate agent in Canada, Jacob Thompson, who said he had “so many papers in my possession, which would utterly ruin and destroy very many of the prominent men in the North”.

    While in peace time or early in the war these complots could have been dismissed as the result of paranoia, in the midst of this bloody war when fear seemed to rule the day they resulted in an extreme crackdown. Scores of conspirators in Baltimore, Chicago and several Illinois towns, along with the ringleaders of the New York riots, were tried by military tribunals and put before firing squads. Disloyal newspapers were closed, and several state legislatures and municipal governments purged “the rebel element” from within their ranks: Maryland expulsed a third of its legislators, and a new law in Kentucky prevented close to half of the legislators from running for re-election due to suspected disloyalty. Many of the most prominent Copperheads fled the country, such as Vallandigham, Pendleton, Horatio Seymour and Fernando Wood, the last two linked directly to the New York riots due to their rhetoric and influence.

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    The Federal Army restored order through sheer brute force

    The entire month would come to be known as the “Month of Blood”, not only for the appalling human toll the Pennsylvania Campaign claimed, but also due to the cost of putting down the uprising and the gory aftermath. Altogether, some 5,000 people were murdered during the Baltimore and New York riots, half due to the depravity of rioters, the other half when the Army restored order by means of the bayonet and the Minnie ball. Large sections of Baltimore and New York were burned to the ground, and the political crackdown in the aftermath of the battle devastated the National Union and increased the Radicalism of the Republicans, as even the most moderate now clamored for punitive measures against the traitors that had unleashed such barbaric and terrible bloodshed. The Month of Blood still stands as perhaps the darkest episode in American history, and the most lamentable and appalling part of an already bloody and traumatic war.

    The events of the Month of Blood are contrasted in a way that gives one whiplash with the Congressional session that followed in July, 1863. This was the first meeting of the 38th US Congress, which had been elected in the midst of war. The Republican majority was slightly smaller, though still over 2/3rds, but the real development was that many conservative Republicans had left the party and been replaced by Radicals. As a whole, the Party had moved sharply to the left, and it was ready to take far more drastic and punitive measures than their antecessors. Radical influence was also strengthened because many Congressmen were newcomers, while most radical leaders such as Stevens, Sumner, Wade, Lovejoy and Julian retained their seats. This longevity, together with the unity of purpose and feeling the Radicals shared, augured “the most radical legislature that has ever assembled in the United States”.

    Despite the lamentable events of the Month of Blood and the step price of the Pennsylvania Campaign, when Congress assembled the occasion seemed almost festive. Republicans quickly voted to honor the victors of Union Mills, elevating Reynolds to the rank of Lieutenant General and awarding several Medals of Honor. This included the first Black recipients of this highest award, and their gallant leader, Colonel Shaw. The Battle of Union Mills, already significant as perhaps the hardest fought victory of the Union, was even more important due to its socio-political implications. Indeed, at the same time that White rebels were burning, murdering and looting all with the intent of sinking the Union, the brave Black soldier was fighting to save it. The contrast could not be greater, and soon many revolutionary changes started to take place as Northerners concluded that Black men who fought for the Union deserved better than White rebels who fought against it.

    "The manhood of the colored race shines before many eyes that would not see”, declared the Atlantic Monthly, while other newspapers said that “the names Fort Saratoga and Union Mills will be as important to the colored race as Fort Bunker and Yorktown have been to the White man” (it should be noted that Black men took part in both Revolutionary War battles). Lincoln himself took the opportunity to issue a striking rebuke to the Copperheads. Though his most important objective remained the restoration of the Union, the President said that the “emancipation lever” and the employment of Black troops had allowed the Union to achieve some of its most important victories, including Union Mills, “the heaviest blow yet given to the rebellion”.

    To those who would not fight for the Negro, the President said “Fight you, then, exclusively to save the Union”. But Lincoln warned that after the war was over, “there will be some black men who can remember that, with silent tongue, and clenched teeth, and steady eye, and well-poised bayonet, they have helped mankind on to this great consummation; while, I fear, there will be some white ones, unable to forget that, with malignant heart, and deceitful speech, they have strove to hinder it”. As for those who said to give up emancipation and return “the warriors of Canton, Fort Saratoga and Unions Mills to slavery” in order to conciliate the South, the President said that such a thing was not only inexpedient, but immoral. “I should be damned in time and in eternity for so doing. The world shall know that I will keep my faith to friends and enemies, come what will.”
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    William Cargnee, awarded the medal of honor for taking the flag Shaw had dropped and carrying it to the rebel position

    “The government,” wrote Orestes Brownson early in 1864, “by arming the negroes, has made them our countrymen.” The logical result of Union Mills, said Missouri’s Charles Drake, was that “the black man is henceforth to assume a new status among us.” Another man talked of changes, “which no human foresight could anticipate” largely thanks to “the display of manhood in negro soldiers.” Signs of revolution abounded. Congress for the first time opened its galleries to Black people, and in a ceremony attended by Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass five Black soldiers were awarded Medals of Honor. Lincoln went out of his way to greet Douglass, whom he characterized as “one of the most meritorious men in America”. Colonel Shaw too received the medal posthumously. Originally, Shaw was going to receive his own tomb, but his parents insisted he be buried at Union Mills alongside his Black soldiers. "We hold that a soldier's most appropriate burial-place is on the field where he has fallen”, said his proud father.

    These gestures were important, for they presaged a great change in Northern aptitudes towards African Americans. Far more meaningful was the legislation that was passed quickly by the Congress. Black soldiers, who had received half the pay of their White comrades, now would henceforth receive equal pay and bounties, and be treated equally by Army authorities. This was made retroactive to the start of their enlistment, and passed with only a few Republican stragglers opposing it. Momentous steps were taken to finally bring equality to African Americans: admission of Black witnesses to Federal courts, prohibition of segregation in transport or education in Washington, repeal of Black laws that had condemned Blacks to second citizen status in several Northern states, and voting to submit referendums on Black suffrage to the voters.

    The most startling sign of change came from the Supreme Court. Chief Justice Taney’s old heart was apparently not able to withstand the rigors of war, for he passed away in March, 1863. William Strong, a respected jurist said to be “sufficiently Radical for even the most radical Senators”, was confirmed in the July session. Now composed of five Lincoln-appointed Justices, the Court had been completely reconstructed. George Templeton Strong saw just how striking the change from Taney to Strong was, commenting that Taney’s death and the victory at Union Mills meant that “Two ancient abuses and evils were perishing together.” This was “the most sweeping judicial metamorphosis in American history.”

    Though these developments gave hope to the friends of Emancipation and the freedmen, underneath a darker desire for punitive measures lurked. The Month of Blood had shocked the nation, and reports of continued guerrilla warfare and terror against Unionist and prisoners of war stiffed the resolve of the lawmakers. Senator Wilkinson introduced a bill to limit the clothing and rations of Confederate prisoners to the amount given to Union prisoners, which was in fact “a directive to starve and freeze Confederate prisoners of war to death”. Senator Henry Lane of Indiana, usually a moderate, introduced a motion to retaliate against “those felons, and traitors, and demons in human shape.” Lincoln himself denounced Confederate actions as “a relapse into barbarism and a crime against the civilization of the age”, and turned a blind eye to retaliation in the field and the military execution of the conspirators behind the Month of Blood.

    The war had taken a gory turn towards extermination, and, Lane signaled, “if this is to be a war of extermination, let not the extermination be all upon one side.” Even Senator Sumner, usually characterized by idealism, declared that the war was now a struggle “between Barbarism and Civilization,—not merely between two different forms of Civilization, but between Barbarism on the one side and Civilization on the other side.” In line with this new policy of vengeful war to the end, Congress passed a law defining “crimes against the laws of war” and “crimes against the laws of nations”. Under these laws, Breckinridge, Davis, Forrest, Johnston, indeed, the majority of the Confederate leadership including their Congress and state authorities, would be liable for execution for ordering or allowing massacres to occur under their watch.

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    The Month of Blood forever linked opposition to the war with treason

    Nonetheless, and despite this cathartic outpouring of vengeful sentiments, as Eric Foner points out, the driving force behind radicalism was a utopic vision of what the nation could be. Simply hanging Johnny Breck and Bobby Lee would never accomplish the far-reaching changes the Radicals envisioned. Seizing the Civil War as the perfect opportunity to enact changes that would build a “perfect republic” of equality, Radicals pushed forward a program of confiscation so as to remake the South. “The demon of caste”, said Charles Sumner, would thus be eradicated, and a new United States would be born from the ashes of war and slavery. A new nation, where the new birth of freedom Lincoln spoke of would be an actual reality. But how was this to be done?

    The answer, many Radicals said, was confiscation. Radical confiscation schemes were designed to change the social fabric of the South. So declared Stevens, saying that without confiscation “this Government can never be, as it has never been, a true republic. . . . How can republican institutions, free schools, free churches, free social intercourse exist in a mingled community of nabobs and serfs?” Since the Union had decided to liberate the Negro and allow him to remain in the United States, provisions had to be made for his future. And the Radicals broadly agreed that his future was as an independent yeoman, tilling the lands confiscated from traitors.

    Yet confiscation was a difficult, touchy subject. The greatest obstacle was that it was fundamentally opposed to traditional American ethos, that included the sanctity of individual rights. This principle had been codified into the constitution, which prohibited confiscation without due process of law and did not allow forfeiture of property for life as a punishment for treason. Stevens’ arguments that “constitutions that contradicted the laws of war should be ignored” and that the rebels could not be protected by the constitution they had defied were too radical for most Republicans. They also went against the President’s position that the Southern states remained in the Union.

    The First and Second Confiscation Acts had allowed the courts to take the property of people convicted from treason, but these acts adhered to constitutional restrictions and required courts to be enforced. Both acts, as a result, had been largely inoperative, as there were no courts in the areas in rebellion and Lincoln still hoped that conciliation would be a better way to cobble the Union back together. This had had such ridiculous consequences as Breckinridge himself being protected from confiscation, since it could not be proven that the lands he held in Illinois and Indiana had been used to aid the rebellion as the First Act required. Breckinridge’s properties were finally confiscated under the Second Act in in rem trials, but this did not solve the issue that most traitors held property not in the North but in the South.

    By mid-1863 Lincoln and most Republicans had surpassed their early timidity. They no longer wanted to conciliate the South, but to reconstruct it and bring new classes of people to power. Thus a movement for a Third Confiscation Act was created. But the extent and scope of the punitive measures to be taken remained in contention. Some extreme Republicans wanted to extend the punishment to all traitors, but moderates opposed such measures. If widespread confiscation was approved, Senator Browning said, Southerners would be reduced to “absolute poverty and nakedness”; Representative Thomas warned that “the bed on which the wife sleeps, the cradel [sic] of the child, the pork or flour barrel” would be confiscated too, engendering a terrible hate that would prevent the South from ever accepting Union rule again.

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    Outside of confiscation, the Union came to control large tracks of abandoned land

    However, such arguments were starting to lose potency. During the debates over the Second Confiscation Act lawmakers had predicted that if the North signaled it would confiscate property, the Confederates would resist to the bitter end and begin to massacre loyal men. The North had not enacted confiscation; the South had done all that anyway. Why should the North still try to conciliate them? Or, in other words, should the man who massacred loyal men be allowed to return unmolested to his farm, while the children and widow of the slain Unionist was to be left in the cold? The Union, lawmakers said, had a responsibility to reward loyalty and punish treason, and the easiest way to achieve this was through confiscation.

    But even if the objectives of the Republicans had changed, the Constitution remained the same. Lincoln had insisted that the Second Act be amended to specify that forfeiture of property was limited to the life of the owner to maintain it within the Constitution’s boundaries. This was necessary, for the main position the Lincoln administration followed was that since secession was void and null, the states had never left the Union. This implied that Confederates remained under the Constitution and that, once the war was over and war powers were no longer operative, they would enjoy the same rights and privileges as Northerners. To say otherwise would be to say that the Confederates had in fact left the Union, thus admitting that secession was a legal fact.

    Another factor that influenced the debates over confiscation was the question of how freedmen labor was to be organized after the war ended. The solution of putting them in camps where they did menial jobs for the Army was unsatisfactory. The camps were rife with disease, one man calling them “disgraceful to barbarism”, and were furthermore easy prey for rebel raiders. Many Black men joined the Union Army, being sent to the front or used to protect their own camps, but aside from them “the rest are in confusion and destitution”, admitted Lincoln. To solve this problem, many officers, chief among them John Eaton, started to put the freedmen at work in “home farms” made with lands confiscated from or abandoned by rebels. This seemed an ideal solution. It would not only calm racists who resented how “idle negroes” were maintained on the taxpayer’s dime, but also allow the freedmen to earn their own living and produce goods the Union desperately needed, such as cotton.

    But for that to be a permanent solution much more land would be needed, giving strength to arguments in favor of confiscation. Yet the organization of freedmen labor under military auspices suffered from the fact that the military was not completely sympathetic to African Americans, and also how their rights took second place to the Army’s needs. As a result, in several areas generals managed a “free labor” system that seemed to be slavery under another name. Consequently, freedmen were forced to sign yearly labor contracts by the Army, and although the government mandated that freedmen were to be treated with respect and dignity, they were often subjected to poor treatment and abuse.

    The situation, for abolitionists and Radical Republicans, was unacceptable. Decided to take the process of emancipation out of the military’s hands, provide a guideline for how freedmen were to be emancipated and made to work, and start the process of confiscation, Republicans crafted the Third Confiscation Act. This act is sometimes known as the First Reconstruction Act, though that is something of a misnomer since the act did not dispose terms for how the reconstruction of the rebel states was to happen. But the act did provide for measures that had far reaching effects beyond mere confiscation, and served as a prelude for the policies the Union would follow once victorious.

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    Contrabands lived in squalor and disease

    The act, in the first place, defined new Federal crimes under the umbrella of rebellion, not treason. This was done so as to evade the constitutional prohibitions when it came to punishing treason; since the Congress was not punishing treason but rebellion, confiscation was permitted. This was a distinction without a difference to opponents of the bill, but Republicans had little reason to listen to the Chesnuts. Confiscation proceedings could be carried in rem, without the need for the accused to appear before the court. If the person was found guilty of “serving in, aiding or providing comfort to insurgent combinations” formed with “the purpose or overthrowing or resisting the government of the United States”, then all his property, including real property, would be forfeited and would enter the national domain.

    The bill further declared that all the land that the states in rebellion held as part of their domain would be forfeited and now belong to the nation. The same would happen to abandoned lands, unless the owner appeared before the court and proved his loyalty. The bill also reaffirmed the responsibility of the Treasury to collect taxes on property behind Union lines. Previously, when the owner failed to pay, the land would be sold in auction; now, it would enter the national domain. The bill ended with the bold affirmation that what was being punished was not treason. Treason itself would be punished only in in personam trials, and included the possibility of execution if the defendant was found guilty of crimes against the laws of nations or war.

    The real innovation of the Third Confiscation Act was that now Congress would provide the courts through which confiscation was to happen. They took the form of the Bureau of Confiscated and Abandoned Lands. This was one of the three bureaus created by the bill, the other two being the Bureaus of Freedmen and Refugees, and of Justice and Labor. The three bureaus would be under the authority of the new Justice Department, whose head would be the Attorney General. Under the argument that there was no legitimate government in the seceded states, and that to leave the administration of justice to the military would be unconstitutional and unrepublican, Congress empowered all three bureaus to establish courts to enforce Congressional directives in their field. Thus, the Land Bureau was capable of holding in rem trials and confiscate lands.

    The creation of the Bureaus is owed to the Freedmen’s Inquiry Commission, which Northern philanthropists had convinced the government to create in order to investigate and address the situation of the freedmen. Though at first there was an attempt to give the power to Chase’s Treasury, after his failed bid to oust Seward the Secretary’s allies gave up. Yet, since the Bureaus were meant not only for war administration but also for aiding the South’s reconstruction once the war was over, it was decided to place them under the brand-new Justice Department, though they would of course collaborate closely with the War Department. The Freedmen’s Bureau would oversee the transition to freedom and help the indigent, wounded and sick, while the Labor Bureau would see that the administration of justice was equal and fair, especially when it came to labor.

    These two bureaus were planned for reconstruction then. The Land Bureau, by contrast, would operate in war time. Soon enough, thousands of bureau agents toured the South, surveying the lands behind Union lines. They would then call for someone accused of rebellion to prove his loyalty; if the person did not appear, the Bureau would declare his or her land confiscated. Land confiscated by the bureau would then be distributed among the freedmen and Unionist whites, who could receive up to forty acres. Alternatively, it could be leased to loyal Southerners or Northern businessmen, who would employ freedmen under the oversight of the Labor Bureau.

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    By assuming the responsibility of taking care of the freedmen, the government was starting nothing less than a social revolution

    However, before the bill received the President’s approval, there were several kinks to be ironed over. The principal one was the division between Lincoln and the Radicals. Lincoln had come to accept confiscation, but he still envisioned it as something of a political “carrot and stick” that would aid him in the task of Reconstruction. By only targeting the rebel leaders and opening the land redistributed by the Bureau to recanting Confederates, Lincoln hoped to drive a wedge between the landed aristocracy and the poor whites of the South. Lincoln, too, accepted that land could be taken permanently from the South’s leaders, but wanted to retain the power to give it back if the person was willing to accept the government’s conditions. That, he hoped, would push rich planters to desert the Confederacy and pledge allegiance to the Union.

    This was part of Lincoln’s new vision for reconstruction. Separating treason from rebellion and giving it harsher penalties while at the same time only allowing in personam trails would force the leading rebels to escape the country, thus preventing a series of executions from following the war. It was, in effect, a form of exile. Excepting poor Southerners from confiscation and opening the possibility of receiving confiscated land would conciliate them to Union government. And by creating a Black yeomanry Lincoln would be able to reassure Northerners that feared that African Americans would migrate en masse to the North. Most importantly, the threat of being trialed for treason or having their properties confiscated would serve as a stick to maintain the loyalty of rebels in areas under occupation; the offer to restore property if they accepted the Union would serve as a carrot to stimulate desertion from the Confederacy.

    Lincoln, then, conceived of confiscation as a purely political maneuver meant to weaken the Confederacy, rather than the sweeping social transformation the Radicals envisioned. As a result, the original, much harsher bill had to be amended several times. In the first place, trials would be individual. This was a somewhat farcical move, for the Land Bureau could hold hundreds of “trials” a day, but it allowed Lincoln and his subordinates to make exceptions when it was politically expedient. The reformed bill also allowed those Confederates that took loyalty oaths to receive land, when the Radicals wanted to limit it originally to only “true Union men”. Originally, the bill also ended the practice of leasing land, which was retained, and finally provisions that would favor African Americans when it came to redistribution were stricken out. The resulting Third Confiscation Act was much less radical than it could have been. Though radicals seethed at these concessions, they accepted defeat. Lincoln signed the act on August 25th.

    A disgusted Chesnut described the scenes of jubilee that followed the passage of the act: “Thad Stevens grinning like never before, Sumner dancing a la anglaise, Ben Wade almost jumping with joy”. Yet if the Third Confiscation Act was certainly a great victory for it inaugurated the process of Southern reconstruction, it was not a complete radical triumph. The act’s provisions were dubious in legality and somewhat limited in scope, and all Republicans realized that a firmer basis for reconstruction had to be given. As the July session ended, most Republicans parted with the understanding that they would provide that basis when they met again in December, in the form of a Thirteen Amendment. In the meantime, the war had still to be won, but Union prospects seemed brighter than never before. As the North set plans for victory and Reconstruction, down south the rebels were experiencing hard times in Dixie.

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    Chapter 39: Hard Times in Dixie
  • The Battle of Union Mills was simply a disastrous failure for the South. Lee’s invasion, meant to secure peace at the tip of a sword, had ended in an enormous defeat. Many historians have now come to the conclusion that although Union Mills was certainly a big material defeat, the battle is most significant for its psychological effects. Alexander Stephens had once declared that the whole raison d’être of the Confederacy was the “great physical, philosophical, and moral truth” that African Americans were inferior to the White man. But the Southern armies had been disastrously and completely defeated by the USCT at Fort Saratoga and Union Mills. How could the victory of Black Union soldiers be conciliated with the belief that White Southerners were superior? How could the Confederacy assert that slavery was the Black man’s natural condition, when he proved that he could not only equal the rebels, but defeat them in the field of battle?

    The answer was simply enough, but its implications for the South and its society were momentous: the Confederate cause was wrong. Such an admission was impossible for Southerners to even contemplate, much less accept. If Black people were their equals, the unavoidable conclusion was that slavery was sinful, abolitionists were right, and their rebellion was unjust. How could men who had fought so long and so hard to maintain slavery and uphold White Supremacy accept that their sacrifice had been in vain? They could not. And thus, the first reaction after Union Mills was denial. Wild, almost hysterical and definitely panicked voices insisted that Union Mills proved nothing. “Jackson was tired!” or “Hill was sick!”, they shouted. A desperate editor even claimed that the Heroes of Union Mills were in truth White soldiers in blackface, a ridiculous assertion that showed how shocked the rebels were.

    Some laid the blame on Breckinridge, claiming he had purposely set Beauregard to fail and that it took “a hundred thousand Negroes to do the work a hundred White men could have accomplished”. Beauregard himself, his ego and reputation broken, would bitterly say that the defenses at Fort Saratoga were the “strongest in the world, and perhaps in history”, and he too blamed the President for the defeat, unwilling to accept that Black troops had simply defeated his gallant Southrons. The bad blood between Beauregard and Breckinridge complicated the task of burying the news. Northern newspapers and propaganda, and careless soldiers were even worse in that regard. Soon enough, and despite Richmond’s claims to the contrary, the fact that Beauregard had not merely failed but had been disastrously defeated was known by everybody.

    The initial phase of denial quickly gave way to panic. There was panic among general and statesmen, certainly, as they painted pictures of “Lincoln and his acolytes recruiting millions of negroes . . . for their campaign of butchery and extermination”. Such statements were meant to invoke anger in the past; now, they invoked fear. One of the soldiers of the disgraced Stonewall Brigade confessed to his family that he was afraid they would be defeated and massacred by Black troops in a future engagement. “What should they not pay us with the same coin and avenge their comrades at Canton and Harpers Ferry? . . . I am afraid of falling by some African savage’s hand.” Moreover, after Union Mills the Lincoln administration raised even more Black regiments, adding to their manpower advantage. Previously, the rebels had all but ignored the Black soldiers, believing them useless; now, some seemed to be under the impression that “one colored soldier is the equal of four cowardly rebels”, as one Pennsylvania newspaper gleefully announced.

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    The U.S. Colored Troops

    The Confederate military and the civil authorities had been both cowed by the disaster, but the reaction was greatest among the scared civilian population. The old specter of slave uprisings, which had long haunted Southern nightmares, arose again with a vengeance. From seemingly all Southern towns came outcries of “slave rebellions” and “the wholesale butchery and massacre of white women and children.” “Has the time not come to admit our defeat and allow the negroes to depart in peace?”, wondered a newspaper editorial, “Only such a course can prevent those savages from covering the land with our blood”. “What’s the use of contesting the Yankee invaders in the field if our women at home are abandoned to the nigger’s lust?”, declared an officer in his diary. “Let us conclude a peace, humiliating as that might be, and return to protect our homes from the enemy that’s already there.”

    Indeed, many Southern communities clamored for the boys in grey to return home to protect them from slave uprisings, which seemed “a more present and bloodthirsty foe than even the worst Yankees”. Southern nerves were not calmed by the course the Union was charting, as news arrived of the Third Confiscation Act and “its promise to execute our leaders and starve our civilians”. The Act, however, caused merely a negative reaction, not a horrified one. Far more ominous for many Southerners was the speech Adjutant General Lorenzo Thomas had given to recruit Black soldiers, where he invoked the name of Toussaint L’Ouverture. In doing so, Thomas had casted “the Union’s war as a black revolution in the mold of Haiti” and invited the enslaved “to rise against their masters, destroy slavery where they lived, and claim allegiance to a nation that had never really been theirs”.

    The prospect of a large-scale slave insurrection was terrifying enough for the Confederates. In fact, many had joined the Confederacy because they believed that secession was the only way of preventing such uprisings. As the war developed and the superiority of the Union was established, Southerners fretted about whether the government would be able to protect them. This manifested in outcries for armies to remain in their states and protect slavery instead of fighting the Yankees in the field. The infamous debacle over the “Twenty Negro Law”, which shall shortly be examined in detail, is also proof of Southern paranoia. The defeats only increased this panic, as the people wondered for the first time if they could defeat a slave uprising. After all, if Lee’s invincibles were overcome, what chance did “half starved and dim-witted militia boys” have?

    “All people think the government has no power to protect us if the negros choose to rebel”, wrote a scared Georgian to her governor. “What are we to do if they rebel? We have no men, and even if there were soldiers here many dubt they would be victorius. Is it time to flee to the swamps?” The letter was never answered, the governor admitting he could say nothing to assure the scared population. Breckinridge had no answers for his people either. Every man was needed at the front, especially after the Army of Northern Virginia had lost almost half of its manpower, and, the President admitted forlornly, even if they had a million soldiers they had no arms and no manpower with which to equip them. Breckinridge could just stare impotently as the Confederate population descended into panic and paranoia.

    Lincoln’s maxim that “upon the progress of our arms, all else chiefly depends” was true of the Confederacy as well. In periods of military fortunes, the prospect of slave insurrection seemed far away. After all, what chances did escaped slaves have against the gallant Southern Army? But the psychological shock of Union Mills was enough that some went as far as assuming that Black men, even if unarmed and untrained, would be able to beat their militias and soldiers. Confederate bonds and slave prices plummeted disastrously; even the veteran Fire Eater Edmund Ruffin sold several of the men he enslaved due to the “doubtful tenure of the property." Nearer to the front, there are reports of people fleeing to Union lines and swearing eternal loyalty to the National Government in exchange of protection. The double threat of slave insurrection behind the lines and a Yankee army ready to trial traitors and confiscate land in the front was enough for many to defect in the hopes of saving themselves.

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    The difficult Confederate situation led to a resurgence of Unionism

    Even those who were decided to remain Confederates to the end started to despair. John Jones, a War Department clerk, wrote that "the news from Lee's army is appalling. . . . This [is] the darkest day of the war.” Josiah Gorgas, usually a firm believer in the cause, declared that “Events have succeeded one another with disastrous rapidity. One brief month ago we were apparently at the point of success. Lee was in Pennsylvania, threatening Harrisburgh, and even Philadelphia. . . . Yesterday we rode on the pinnacle of success—today absolute ruin seems to be our portion. The Confederacy totters to its destruction.” Desertions increased, aided by anguished letters from home of family and friends that pleaded with the soldiers to reject a hopeless cause. For example, a wife that implored her husband, claiming that “The people is all turning Union here since the Yankees has whipped us. I want you to come home as soon as you can. The conscripts is all at home yet."

    “If we are defeated, it will be by the people at home”, harshly stated the Atlanta Southern Confederacy. As in the Union, the “fire in the rear” was perhaps more dangerous than even the enemy at the front. The defeat at Union Mills reinvigorated Unionists across the South and led to an increase in guerrilla activity. Gone were the days when guerrillas limited themselves to destructing tracks and burning cotton; now, their objective was “reducing the rebel states to a wasteland where only the loyal shall thrive”. Though the Lincoln administration limited aid to these partisans, judging correctly that their bloodthirsty methods would not help conciliate the pro-Confederate population, they still engaged in horrific crimes. In Mississippi, a rebel officer found a dozen corpses in a small stream; at least five furloughed soldiers were murdered in cold blood in Georgia; and in Alabama a giant raid by the “Liberty Raiders” destroyed three plantations and liberated hundreds from the clutches of the enslavers.

    Black men took part in all these events, though their participation was limited. There certainly were not as many Black guerrilla fighters as Southerners saw in their feverish nightmares. In areas away from both rebels and Federals, those slaves who escaped found ready comrades, but these usually were upcountry areas where there were few slaves to begin with. Near the Union lines, the enslaved preferred to flee, and those who wanted to fight found it easier to join the “Army of Liberation” rather than irregular partisans. In the Deep South, the Confederate government retained enough control, preventing a large-scale guerrilla war. Moreover, most Black men were not willing to abandon their families, especially when many enslavers promised to punish those left behind in a sickening display of cruelty. For the moment, the worst of the bush war was contained to the Upper South, while in the heart of the Confederacy such incidents were isolated and relatively infrequent.

    Nonetheless, one cannot deny the existence of organizations such as the Heroes of America in North Carolina, which practically seized control of the North Carolina upcountry, or Lincoln’s Loyal League in Mississippi, a “maroon army” made primarily of escaped slaves who stroke back against their oppressors without mercy. Ultimately, the Unionist Guerrillas were probably more effective than the Copperhead organizations in the North. It’s true that Copperhead conspiracies had resulted in the gory Month of Blood, but the low-level insurgency in the Southern states was ultimately more damaging to the Confederate cause and psyche. Though Confederate partisans and night raiders continued to inflict terror and violence throughout the South, they were never able to eradicate their foe, and Unionist resistance would only continue to grow until at the end of the war it consumed the Confederacy in fire and destruction.

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    Away from formal military campaigns, the war continued to degenerate into a bloody contest

    But in the summer of 1863 that still laid in the future. Confederate prospects were bleak, but the cause did not seem hopeless just yet. It was with the belief that he could still seize victory from the jaws of defeat that Breckinridge started working to reorganize the Southern Army and administration. The first point was, of course, who was to blame for that fiasco of a campaign. As for Fort Saratoga, the answer was clear enough: Beauregard. Time and time again Breckinridge had attempted to conciliate the egotistical general, and he paid him back with partisan bitterness and unsubtle denunciations. Breckinridge at first attempted to exile Beauregard to the trans-Mississippi, but after Beauregard refused, he demanded and obtained his resignation instead.

    Beauregard, as predicted, continued doing his best to propagate the myth that the Fort Saratoga onslaught had been Breckinridge’s fault. Many men, anxious to deny a victory to the USCT and already arrayed against Breckinridge, repeated this false assertion. In any case, the defeat was fresh enough that not many people listened to Beauregard at the moment. Far more complex was how to deal with Robert E. Lee, whose fame and reputation had also taken a catastrophic dive. Again, denial was an important part of the equation, and this time it at least was plausible. Nonetheless, the laurels won at the Peninsula and Manassas had been obscured by the shame and dishonor of Union Mills. No one was more conscious of this fact that Lee himself, who handed his resignation to Breckinridge with a sad verdict: “I cannot even accomplish what I myself desire. How can I fulfill the expectations of others?"

    More than simple military calculus was at stake here. Opponents of the Breckinridge administration had already seized upon the Union Mills defeat as the definitive proof “of the wickedness and incompetency of the present administration”. But the Tories didn’t focus on Lee, but rather on Davis and Breckinridge himself. This is partly because the midterm elections were approaching, thus making a concentrated political attack far more advantageous. But it also reflects the fact that Lee was not totally ruined yet; the rebel General retained enough fame and affection that most Southerners were willing to give him a second chance. Furthermore, he had certainly been the most capable leader of the Army of Northern Virginia, perhaps the Confederacy as a whole.

    At first Breckinridge considered accepting Lee’s resignation, but he ultimately decided against it. Publicly, he declared it was because there was no better general. But privately, this answered to political needs. Lee, though primarily a military-man, was conscious of political strategy and was a stalwart supporter of the President and his policies. He threw his considerable weight behind conscription and martial law, making such decisions more palatable to the Southern public. Lee, Davis and Breckinridge formed a capable triumvirate with a productive and respectful working relationship, something Breckinridge had not enjoyed with other generals. Finally, Breckinridge judged that a friend of the administration should be in charge with elections so close. Johnston, who acted as a “shield behind which critics gathered themselves and shot arrows at the President”, was not adequate in that regard.

    Breckinridge thus kept Lee in command for the time being. Lee and his rebels would earn further laurels, but he would never regain the glory and respect he once held. However, this did not stop the critics of the government, who now focused their attention on Secretary of War Jefferson Davis. Davis was a capable administrator and an important ally of Breckinridge, a steady hand that was in many ways more committed to the Confederate cause than the President himself. Despite his difficult temperament, Breckinridge had managed to forge a beneficial relationship with him. Nonetheless, this temperament meant that Davis had more enemies, and that those feuds were often more intense. For example, Senator Wigfall was in cordial terms with Breckinridge, but he loathed Davis and urged his replacement. Even Johnston, who did not like Breckinridge per se, reserved most of his odium for Davis.

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    Southern politicians opposed to the Breckinridge government were denigrated as "Tories" or "Reconstructionists"

    Even as the anti-Lee movement lost strength, the anti-Davis cabal just seemed to gain momentum. As it had happened to Lincoln, Senators wanted to seize power away from Breckinridge by forcing him to appoint someone they wanted. A Senator outright said that Breckinridge, “having proven his unfitness for office”, had to be provided of “a capable hand to guide him, lest he leads us to disaster once again”. The Tory opposition linked both movements, making it clear that either Davis or Lee would have to leave. “Someone is responsible for this shameful calamity”, declared one conspirator, “someone must be punished”. As a result, when it was found that Breckinridge would not dismiss either men, the Congress scheduled hearings to find the culpable.

    A few people suggested Breckinridge should throw Davis under the bus as a way to exonerate both Lee and himself. “You cannot uphold him. The attempt will only destroy you”, warned a supporter. Breckinridge refused, and instead manfully assumed the blame himself. Lee, the President said in a public speech, was still “one of the most gallant and skillful generals in the service”, while Davis enjoyed his “utmost confidence in his patriotism and capacity.” Davis, who unlike Breckinridge was called to testify, too behaved honorably, assuming the fault. With a swollen throat and suffering from neuralgia, Davis presented a rather pitiful sight, yet he stood proud as the committee grilled him. Obstinate as always, he refused to consider resignation and maintained that the defeat was not the fault of Lee – Wigfall reported that Davis was “almost frantic with rage if the slightest doubt was expressed as to [Lee’s] capacity and conduct”.

    The Senators then called several commanders of the Army of Northern Virginia, hoping they would blame Davis. With the exception of Beauregard, whose word was worth little, their testimonies instead became lengthy defenses of Lee. Jackson, Longstreet and Hill all sought to shift the blame away from their leader, but they could not agree onto whom it should rest. Longstreet, though he still held warm sentiments towards Lee, did declare that he thought attacking the Federals at the Pipe Creek Line “unwise” and that he had argued against that. Longstreet’s astounding declaration briefly resuscitated the anti-Lee movement and destroyed his friendship with Jackson. This because Longstreet had declared that, had Jackson successfully carried the Union flank in his charge, the battle would have been a victory. Such a statement seemed to place the blame on Jackson.

    Moreover, Jackson believed that Longstreet was trying to sully Lee’s name. Lee himself accepted the criticism and would continue to regard Longstreet as his “Old War Horse”, but the dogmatic Jackson never forgot Longstreet’s “treachery”. As long as Lee remained in the picture, the relation could remain cordial, but when later he went away it quickly deteriorated, leading the Confederacy to disaster. It’s possible, too, that the feud was exaggerated in the light of future events that would taint Longstreet with false accusations of disloyalty and incompetency. Curiously enough, amid these dramatic accounts, Hill is often forgotten even though he probably is more to blame than the other commanders. In any case, Lee refused to inculpate him. Breckinridge finally convinced Lee to remove Hill to a lesser position under the tactful and partially true excuse that Hill’s medical problems made him unfit for command.

    These Congressional hearings in truth did not accomplish much, but rather became public forums filled with bitter and angry tirades against Breckinridge, Davis and other figures of the administration. Breckinridge’s “flagrant mismanagement”, was emphasized by enemies who denounced him as “a miserable arrogant tyrant” who “has alienated the hearts of the people by his stubborn follies” and “his chronic hallucinations that he is a great military genius.” Davis, of course, was also a victim of abuse, with Senators denouncing “his chronic antipathies, his bitter prejudices, his puerile partialities”. At the end, Breckinridge refused to dismiss either Lee or Davis. An attempt to force through a bill impeaching Davis failed when the President’s supporters rallied and the anti-Lee and anti-Davis movements were defeated for the time being.

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    Political cartoon mocking Secretary Davis

    The bitterness of this struggle is a symptom of the volatile political situation, which was only worsened by the debate over the “Twenty Negro Law”. This whole debacle was something of a tragi-comic fiasco, as in truth the law itself was not as consequential as its opponents or supporters believed it was. Rather, the true issue was focused on the more important but still somewhat abstract question of what was the true essence of the Confederacy. Was it a movement to create a new nation? Or a movement to protect slavery? Most Southerners would have easily answered yes to both questions heretofore, but as slavery started to disintegrate and the cause turned hopeless, the pressing issue was one: Should the Confederacy sacrifice slavery to gain independence? Or renounce independence but conserve slavery?

    The Twenty Negro Law was first proposed towards the end of 1862. The Emancipation Proclamation had been issued, and Southern slaveholders had been whipped into a frenzy as they feared insurrection. The massive conscription of White men into the Army, slaveholders argued, had resulted in the erosion of discipline and slavery itself, as the enslaved fled to swamps or the Yankee lines. Moreover, the White women at home were defenseless against the Black man’s supposed savagery. "I have no brother no one on whom I can call for aid," an Alabama woman wrote to her governor. "I am living alone now, with only my child a little girl of 2 years old. I am now surrounded on all sides by plantations of negroes—many of them have not a white [man] on them. I am now begging you will not you in kindness to a poor unprotected woman and child give me the power of having my overseer recalled.”

    Such a situation was unacceptable, as both white women and slavery had to be protected. Otherwise, what were the Confederates fighting for? Aside from these appeals to paternalistic White Supremacy there was the practical issue that “The Confederacy also needed the food and fiber raised on plantations, and southerners believed that without overseers the slaves would raise nothing.” Consequently, planters insisted that exemptions for overseers were absolutely needed for the war effort. Was this true? It was certainly an article of faith that slavery lent strength to the Confederate military. “This it is which makes our 8 million of productive fighting material equal to the 20 m of the North,” said the assistant to the adjutant general. Enslaved laborers were indeed vital to the Confederate war effort, working building fortifications and erecting trenches, liberating white men for fighting.

    Planters, recognizing this, thus lobbied for a law that would exempt one overseer from conscription for every twenty enslaved Negroes. But President Breckinridge quickly made clear his opposition to such a law. The President predicted a disastrous reaction to a law that “favored negro labor over white labor” and “enshrined aristocratic privilege in the national legislation . . . the terrible burden of war must be borne by all Southern men, no matter their wealth. How can we ask the poor farmer to give up his life while the planter contently remains at home?” Breckinridge was echoing the complains of many yeomen who abhorred the “rich man’s war, poor man’s fight”. As Steven Channing decisively concludes, “There never was a solid South living in contented thrall to a plantation society, ready to die for its values”.

    Indeed, a significant part of the Southern population resented the war the “aristocratic planters” had brought upon them with “its fruits of hunger and deaths”. A North Carolina woman confessed she did not know what her husband was fighting for. “I don't think he is fighting for anything only for his family to starve." Another woman complained of how "The common people is drove off to fight for the big mans negro." As the Chief Executive, Breckinridge was profoundly conscious of these “flames of dissent” and he judged that passing the “Twenty-Negro Law” would “throw the entire cause asunder at once”. The President’s opposition deflated the movement. Another factor was that, with McClellan so near the capital, it seemed downright unpatriotic for planters to skirt their duties.

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    Confederate manpower needs reached disastrous levels after Union Mills

    The Twenty-Negro Law laid dormant for months as rising Confederate prospects made many believe it would not be necessary. With victory seemingly so close, Breckinridge and the Congress seemingly decided to simply not touch the issue. But after Union Mills a bill was introduced again. The bruising contest between the Administration and Congress over Davis and Lee had left many men bitter and anxious of taking revenge on Breckinridge. Moreover, with many clamoring for protection from “Negro murderers”, there was an outpouring of appeals to emotion and Southern gallantry. But Breckinridge had, if anything, become even more opposed to the measure. Putting aside the custom of communicating with Congress only through messengers, Breckinridge irrupted into the Congressional Chambers. This earned him a comparison with Charles I and that time he infamously stormed into the Commons.

    However, Breckinridge was not there to arrest lawmakers, but to plead with them. The President predicted “utter ruin” if the law was passed, and declared he would veto it. His words fell on deaf ears. Though Congressmen amended the law, requiring planters to pay $300 plus 40 pounds of meat for every slave, it still was passed. As promised, Breckinridge vetoed it; the Congress promptly overrode the veto. Soon enough, they found out that the President was right. "Never did a law meet with more universal odium. . . . Its influence upon the poor is calamitous. . . . It has aroused a spirit of rebellion . . . in the army it is said it only needs some daring men to raise the standard to develop a revolt”, confessed a Mississippi Senator to Secretary Davis. An aide to Robert E. Lee explained that the measure was "very injururious" and "severely commented upon in the army", while Governor Vance commented that the law had "produced a dediced effect on public sentiment" and declared it "the severest blow the Confederacy ever received". Just as Breckinridge had predicted, the law and its powerful symbolism arose extreme hate among the Southern poor.

    Many have wondered why Breckinridge was so sternly opposed to the law. Even Davis, usually a staunch supporter, was in favor of it, stating that it would not “draw any distinction of classes, but simply provide a police force, sufficient to keep our negroes in control.” The law only exempted around 5,000 planters, which was a small proportion of all the exemptions and barely 15% of all the eligible. Breckinridge, to be sure, was not against providing such a “police force”. But the President pointedly signaled that many states like Arkansas and Georgia already were keeping troops and militia at home to guard against slave insurrections, and that, in any case, one overseer would not be capable of stopping a full-scale rebellion. This notwithstanding, the main reason for Breckinridge’s opposition remained his justified fears that the law would be a hard hit against the civilian population’s already fragile morale.

    Planters and congressmen of planter extraction were far more preoccupied with the fate of slavery than the fate of the poor. This reveals the widening gap between Breckinridge, who was becoming willing to sacrifice slavery in the name of independence, and the slavocrats. Breckinridge, it’s already been pointed out, received his greatest support among Southern yeomen, while the large slaveholders usually voted for Bell. Afterwards, the counties that gave their greatest support to Breckinridge were usually lukewarm towards secession, while the Bell counties voted overwhelmingly in its favor. At first, electing Breckinridge seemed like a brilliant way of conciliating these skeptics. And as a matter of fact, Breckinridge did prove enormously popular with that section of the population.

    However, it turned out that Breckinridge, who held no great love for slavery, was not preoccupied with the institution. It must be made clear that he, like all other Confederates, accepted the monstrous institution and was glad to fight for a country that would maintain it. But as the hour of truth approached, Breckinridge had come to the conclusion that securing Confederate independence was more important than preserving slavery. As a result, he vetoed the law, only to be overrode. The debacle discredited the President’s opponents and enshrined Breckinridge as the protector of the poor man against “a greedy and arrogant aristocracy . . . that would rather see a thousand poor men and women starve than give up their power.” It was a rather pyrrhic victory, for the opponents of the administration received the loathing of the poor while Breckinridge was hailed.

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    The Twenty Negro Law has been pronounced as one of the most misguided pieces of legislation of the Civil War

    In time, and as the situation grew even more desperate, many within Breckinridge’s “Nationalist” faction would come to see slavery as expendable. Still, in the summer of 1863 Breckinridge was basically alone among the Confederate leadership in doubting the necessity of the Twenty Negro Law. Another aspect in which Breckinridge departed drastically from the majority of Southerners was revealed when a missive came from the Mississippi theater. A certain Patrick Cleburne had proposed that “in view of the Negro’s martial capacity”, Black slaves could be conscripted into the army as a way to secure independence, even at the price of slavery. The Cleburne proposal intrigued the President, but an horrified Davis convinced him to refuse it and “smother” all talk of Black recruitment. This time Breckinridge deferred to Davis’ opinion, though the Cleburne proposal and the explosive issued of Black conscription would arise again.

    Adding to Southern woes was the failure of Confederate foreign policy. In the aftermath of Union Mills, Henry Adams had joyously written that "The disasters of the rebels are unredeemed by even any hope of success . . . It is now conceded that all idea of intervention is at an end." Adams was right; never again would the prospect of foreign intervention appear, but previous to the battle the prospects for intervention had seemed so bright. John Bull overlooked the building of Confederate blockade runners in Liverpool, and foreign agents like Henry Hotze seemed successful “in stirring up British prejudices against the bumptious Yankees”. As Lee and his rebels achieved outstanding victories in the beginning of 1863 and the “cotton famine” started to affect British laborers, for a moment there seemed to be an irresistible momentum towards Confederate recognition.

    However, the class that was most affected by the “famine” was also curiously the most opposed to the Confederacy. "The Lancashire operatives class," wrote a frustrated Hotze, “continues actively inimical to us. . . . With them the unreasoning . . . aversion to our institutions is as firmly rooted as in any part of New England. . . . They look upon us, and . . . upon slavery as the author and source of their present miseries." The great mass of British laborers and the radical politicians, it was clear, identified with the Union cause. Lincoln had skillfully portrayed the American struggle as one for “maintaining in the world that form and substance of government whose leading object is to elevate the condition of men . . . to afford all an unfettered start, and a fair chance in the race of life.” These objectives were dear to British workers who saw in the British aristocracy and the Confederate slavocracy twin enemies of progress and human rights. So said the British radical John Bright, who pronounced the Confederates “the worst foes of freedom that the world has ever seen”.

    Still, the aristocracy was far more influential in the government, and they were firmly arrayed against the Union and its dangerous democracy. They talked gleefully of "the failure of republican institutions in time of pressure” and predicted “the establishment of an aristocracy in America”. The Times, a paper closely aligned with Lord Palmerston, went as far as saying “good riddance!” to the fall of the “American colossus.” “Excepting a few gentlemen of republican tendencies, we all expect, we nearly all wish, success to the Confederate cause”, said the prominent newspaper. Punch magazine, in previous years a progressive voice, now gleefully published cartoons that showed Abe Lincoln thrust against the ropes by the boxer Johnny Breck, and of King George III mocking Washington and his “perfect republic”. For a while, it seemed like even Old Pam’s reluctance would be overcome.

    "John Breckinridge and other leaders of the South," said Gladstone in a speech in early 1863, "have made an army; they are making, it appears, a navy; and they have made what is more than either; they have made a nation." But the Confederacy was a slaveholding nation, and that reality hung around its neck like a heavy albatross. As McPherson says, “To support a rebellion in behalf of slavery would be un-British. . . . But so long as the North did not fight for freedom, many Britons could see no moral superiority in the Union cause.” Consequently, friendly radicals advised the North to abolish slavery if they wanted to prevent intervention. Lincoln did just that in the Fourth of July, 1862. That, together with the Confederate defeats that followed, killed intervention momentarily.

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    Punch Magazine followed closely the Civil War, though often it portrayed an anti-Union point of view

    But the Peninsula revived it, and when Lee advanced North he did so with the understanding that a victory could secure recognition and independence. It was at this crucible that Napoleon III revealed his machinations. France had been trying to expand its Empire through an intervention in Mexico, and the French Emperor thought that a Confederate alliance would be beneficial. But he was reluctant to move without British approval, and the British chaffed when it seemed like the frogs wanted to dictate their foreign policy. Still, after analyzing the Union defeats at the Peninsula and Manassas, Palmerston stated that “it seems not altogether unlikely that still greater disasters await them, and that even Baltimore or Philadelphia may fall into the hands of the Confederates. If this should happen, would it not be time for us to consider whether . . . England and France might not address the contending parties and recommend an arrangement upon the basis of separation?"

    Britain and France watched with batted breath for news of the Pennsylvania Campaign. The first reports of a great Confederate victory at Frederick seemed to confirm recognition. Confederate envoys cheered and Henry Adams despaired as Russia, France and Britain prepared to extend an offer of mediation to the North (one which Lincoln would have surely rejected). Then, news came of Union Mills and the catastrophic Confederate defeat. The tune of the European statesmen immediately changed, and Palmerston refused to intervene, bluntly stating that the Confederacy had not proven its independence as he had required previously. Union Mills closed the possibility of recognition once and for all, and John Bull now took measures to stop the building of blockade runners for the South.

    Though the failure of foreign diplomacy certainly added to rebel despondency, the greatest factor remained the terrible economic situation and the hardship the Southern population had to endure. Victories in the field had briefly stabilized the government’s credit, but it plummeted again after Union Mills. By July, 1863, John Jones declared that "the shadow of the gaunt form of famine is upon us.” Much anger was heaped against “speculators” of, it was said, primarily Jewish extraction that took advantage of the desperate. But the real culprit was the war, with its devastation of fields, destruction of transportation and ruinous inflation. The food bill, the Richmond Dispatch calculated, had “climbed from about $6.65 per month at the time of secession to $68 by early 1863”, and people in the countryside faced starvation. “Plase of giveing us aney thing to eat”, supplicated a desperate woman to Governor Vance. “I have 6 little children and my husband in the armey and what am I to do?"

    Further aggravating the situation, and the dangerous alienation of yeomen families, was the policy of "impressment" the Confederacy had been forced to adopt. The temporary seizing of property, which included foodstuffs, wagons and even slaves, was often necessary due to the sorry state of Southern logistics. But the process was "arbitrary and insufficient" during the first two years of the war, when Confederate commanders impressed goods at their own discretion, generally under the authority of state laws, and often without leaving any kind of receipt or note. By middle 1863, the Congress sought to regulate the process and correct its worst abuses through a comprehensive law. The resulting legislation was meant to repay the property owners, but it also tried to "suppress attempts to evade or resist it" and "still worse, payment would be made in Confederate currency", whose value continued to plummet, the fall becoming even more precipitous after the disaster of the summer of 1863.

    To be sure, Breckinridge, both for political advantage and genuine concern, sought to prevent the impressment of the property of the poor yeomen who already had very little. This was oftentimes honored on the breach, meaning that desperate, almost starving citizens could have their last supplies seized by the Confederate soldiers meant to protect them. A desperate Mississippi woman told the tale of how Grant's soldiers had taken almost all of her flour - and then Cleburne's came and took the rest. Even in areas away from the main theaters of war, impressment could push people to the brink. A resident of Calhoun County, Florida, for instance complained to his Governor of how "there are soldiers' families in my neighborhood that the last head of cattle have been taken from them and drove off, and they left to starve." Some herculean efforts at Food Relief did not amount to much when, as one woman complained, "what one soldier gives a miserable thief of the same regiment then takes".


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    Slaves forced to work on a Confederate position

    By late 1863, the Richmond Enquirer was reporting that "We often hear persons say, 'The Yankees cannot do us any more harm than our own soldiers have done.'" Assistant Secretary of War James A. Seddon admitted that impressment was "a harsh, unequal and odious mode of supply", made all the more distasteful because of the widespread resistance of the planter class to it. Believing that the central government had no constitutional authority to take their property, the planter aristocracy was the most bitterly opposed to the measure, even as they were also less affected by it. They candidly declared that "they will allow their fodder to rot in the field" rather than allow the Army to seize it. Without a single shred of irony, planter James H. Hammond said that heeding a request for his maize would be "branding on my forehead 'slave'". A furious Alabaman observed how, at the start of the war, "every man was ready & willing, nay, anxious, to make every sacrifice for the good of the cause" but "now Selfishness & greed of gain has taken possession of a large portion of our people".

    Part of this resistance came from the fact that in addition to grain and cattle the Army could also impress "a species of property . . . the confiscation of which is more injurious to pride, right and law than any other" - that is, enslaved people. Requisitions of slaves by the Army had been going on before the Congress enacted the Impressment law, which, labeling slaves as just another kind of property, permitted officers to impress them as well. But planters categorically refused. General Pillow found this when he asked Huntsville planters to rent him slaves. The General reminded the slaveholders that by heeding his call they would be "advancing your own interest by preserving your property and aiding the army to protect the homes and property of the owner", instead of leaving all at the mercy of the Yankee invaders. But planters were not convinced, such as Catherine Edmondston, who likened the impressment of slaves to abolition, or a Texan who swore that these requests "would not be obeyed except at the point of the bayonet."

    This meant that the brunt of sacrifice and sufferings were bore by an increasingly disillusioned, angry and desperate poor population. Southern disaffection finally exploded into “bread riots” in several cities in the Confederacy. Mobs formed mostly out of women in several cities broke into shops and attacked speculators in order to get bacon and flour. The “largest and most momentous riot occurred in Richmond”. Virginia’s desolated farms were not capable of feeding the swollen city population and Lee’s Army, creating the conditions under which a thousand people mob assembled to demand bread. "Our children are starving while the rich roll in wealth”, they cried as they broke into stores. Militia, doubtlessly including husbands and brothers of the rioters, failed to contain them. It seemed the riots would end in a Southern Month of Blood.

    That’s when President Breckinridge arrived at the scene. Gaunt, thin, with tired eyes that spoke of many sleepless nights, the President climbed into a wagon and called for the mob to disperse so that “the bayonets can be turned against the real enemy”. The mob booed him, a young girl pointing to her skeletal arm and saying that they had the right to “take a little bread after you took all our men.” Breckinridge then pulled up his own sleeves, showing his own thin arm, little more than bone and skin. The crow gasped, surprised. “I ask of you no sacrifices except those I am willing to take myself. I won’t leave you alone, I will do all in my power to protect you and give you what you need. But please, don’t let this end in bloodshed.” The President’s pleads worked, and the crowd dispersed. The government then opened its rice and beef stores, and a Food Relief Administration was created to alleviate the problems the South faced, though it was never capable of solving them.

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    The Bread Riots were, until the end of the war, the most surprising demostration of Southern dissafection

    Breckenridge had managed to prevent the Bread Riots from ending in a gory massacre, and his capable administration kept the Confederacy from disintegrating after the catastrophic Union Mills defeat. His actions furthermore hallowed him as the great defender of the poor against the arrogant aristocracy that sought to starve and abandon them. But not even Breckenridge was capable of rescuing the sagging civilian morale, defeat Unionist insurgencies or arresting the political polarization that threatened to fatally divide the Confederacy. With elections approaching, a growing peace movement, and the start of a renewed campaign for Vicksburg, the end was in sight for many Confederates.
     
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    Chapter 40: Until That Key Is in Our Pocket
  • Ulysses S. Grant’s life is in many ways a tale of bitter failures followed by astounding successes, After his shameful departure from the Army, Grant found only failure in his life as a civilian, only to mount an amazing comeback with his capture of Forts Henry and Donelson. Consequently, Grant became one of the Union’s premier generals, but his diffident, non-assuming nature contrasted heavily with his comrades in arms. So did his lack of success. Even as Reynolds turned back the tide in Pennsylvania and Thomas achieved a great victory over the rebels in Tennessee, Grant bogged down in Vicksburg and failed to reopen the Mississippi, threatening the cause and his own career. It was at this critical juncture that Grant would once again astonish the world with a brilliant victory, but previous to that it had seemed like another bitter failure was his lot.

    Grant’s position was threatened even more by a lamentable act as well as a grave political mistake, his Order No.11. These infamous orders declared that "The Jews, as a class, violating every regulation of trade established by the Treasury Department, and also Department orders, are hereby expelled from the Department." This was a misguided attempt to control the trade that flourished as the Union advanced into the heart of the Confederacy. The existence of laws that formally outlawed trade with the enemy was ignored by both Federal and Southern merchants that were too allured by the possibility of enormous profit. Soon enough, Union traders started to acquire great quantities of cotton in exchange of gold or material goods such as salt or medicine. An English man would remark that "a Chinese wall from the Atlantic to the Pacific" could not stop this commerce, forcing Richmond and Philadelphia to regulate it.

    In the Union case, this desire answered not only to a need for cotton, but also to the hope that reestablishing commercial relationships would help along in the work of Reconstruction. Thus, the Treasury issued commerce permits to those who pledged allegiance to the Union, which stimulated many to desert the Confederacy. But these supposed Unionists were most of the time not sincere at all, seeking to aid the Southern cause and grow their own fortunes through this trade. The Yankees themselves were not paragons of honesty. Charles A. Dana denounced a net of illicit trade that “to an alarming extent corrupted and demoralized the army." “Every colonel, captain, or quartermaster is in secret partnership with some operator in cotton; every soldier dreams of adding a bale of cotton to his monthly pay”, he wrote.

    One factor that added to Union woes was the fact that the Breckenridge government had practically made this trade an official policy. The Confederacy, like the Union, had produced laws against trading with the enemy, and some proud Southerners thought it better to burn cotton rather than allow it to fall into the Yankees’ hands. Naturally, not everyone agreed. The Richmond Examiner thus rallied against those planters “who were so early and furiously in the field for secession” but who were prompt to take loyalty oaths in order to access Northern markets. “This shameless moral turpitude”, the newspaper concluded, “inflicts a heavy injury upon the general cause of the South, which is forsaken by these apostates." Yet, it was clear that the Confederacy desperately needed some goods, and that this trade, shameful as it may be, was one of the easiest ways to obtain them.

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    The extreme need of cotton guided many political and military decisions

    The Commissary General, George Randolph, recognized this need and its possible solution. Randolph argued that it would be impossible to sustain the Armies without trading with the enemy, something that was “of ordinary occurrence” in European wars. Despite the opposition of some key figures of the administration, such as Davis, whose sense of honor led him to “resist the proposal in toto”, Breckenridge allowed Randolph to implement his idea. Davis himself was forced to concede, after the Bread Riots, that such trade could be allowed “if the necessity was absolute”, which it clearly was. As a result, a considerable part of the trade was done with Richmond’s blessing and under its guidance. The salt, gold and foodstuffs obtained through it served to mitigate, but never resolve, the Confederacy’s want of food and ordinance.

    Much of the blame was placed on Jewish traders, “whose love of gain is greater than their love of country”. Despite the undeniable fact that most traders were gentiles, Jews were scapegoated by Union commanders. This anti-Semitism sadly transcended battlelines, for Confederates too denounced “Jew extortioners” who had “injured our case more than the armies of Lincoln”. This helps explain Grant’s reasoning behind General Orders N.11, which Ron Chernow declares “the most sweeping anti-Semitic action undertaken in American history.” When Jewish leaders denounced this “enormous outrage” before Lincoln, the President was quick to revoke the order, expressing that he “did not like to hear a class or nationality condemned on account of a few sinners.”

    Lincoln was gentle in his reprimand, but the Chesnuts, then in the ascendancy thanks to Union misfortunes, took off their gloves. Condemning Grant’s orders as “illegal, tyrannical, cruel and unjust,” they tried to officially censor the General, but the resolutions were narrowly defeated in both chambers. Nonetheless, the greatest threat to Grant was simply his lack of success. Daily letters arrived that painted Grant as “a jackass in the original package” and “a poor drunken imbecile”. Lincoln probably paid no heed to these letters, but Grant’s failure to open the Mississippi troubled him. The closure of the river not only weakened the Union while strengthening the Confederacy, but it led to anger in the Midwest and seditious rumors. “Vicksburg is the key”, Lincoln thus declared. “The war can never be brought to a close until that key is in our pocket.”

    Grant’s efforts to seize the slippery key, unfortunately, proved unfruitful. In the three months that followed the failure of the First Vicksburg Campaign, Grant tried several “quixotic engineering projects” in order to reach the high, dry ground to the east of Vicksburg, the only terrain suitable for a military offensive against the citadel. The first of them was an attempt to dig a canal, which was abandoned after rising waters in February “threatened them with drowning”. A similar effort led by Charles F. Smith’s to dig a canal from Lake Providence to the river failed as well. Grant then set his hopes in a maze of narrow channels and overgrown vegetation known as the Yazoo Pass. But the advance was tortuous and difficult. The expedition was finally stopped after it failed to subdue an earthwork grandiosely named “Fort Pemberton”.

    Though Grant would later claim that all these maneuvers were simply to entertain his men while he prepared the real offensive, in truth he was greatly disappointed by their failure. They also contributed to Northern despondency during that Winter of Woes between the Peninsula Campaign and Union Mills. Grant’s army, the New York Times complained, was “stuck in the mud of northern Mississippi, his army of no use to him or anyone else.” Another newspaper mocked Grant by predicting that the enemy would die of old age before Grant took the citadel. "I think Grant has hardly a friend left, except myself," commented Lincoln, no doubt conscious of the great criticism Grant was receiving but unwilling to part with him because he needed “generals who will fight battles and win victories. Grant has done this, and I propose to stand by him." A possibly apocryphal anecdote even has Lincoln inquiring what brand of whisky Grant liked to drink, so that he could send some to his other generals.

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    The Yazoo Pass expedition turned into a hellish adventure that saw the Yankees attacked by falling logs, snakes and rebels guardsmen

    However, even Lincoln started to grow somewhat impatient at the lack of success. “The eyes and hopes of the whole country are now directed to your army”, he informed Grant through General-in-chief Lyon. “The opening of the Mississippi River will be to us of more advantage than the capture of forty Richmonds.” General Lyon was, fortunately for Grant, a stalwart ally that had full confidence on him, but Lincoln wanted to corroborate that high opinion. To do so, he and Stanton decided to sent Charles A. Dana to Mississippi with a “secret” mission to spy on Grant and see if the rumors as to his incompetency and drunkenness were true. Grant decided to receive Dana with friendliness, and he was in turn so impressed that he declared Grant “the most modest, the most disinterested, and the most honest man I ever knew”.

    Still, Lincoln thought a change in strategy was necessary, and that continuing “all these side expeditions through the country” was “dangerous”, for their chances of success were slim and it exposed the rest of the department to attack. He again repeated his suggestion of a joint attack against Port Hudson, and although he did not make it an order, Grant recognized that it would be prudent to follow the President’s wishes. It was at that moment that Grant start to hatch a plan to take Vicksburg and defeat Johnston decisively. The first part of the new plan entailed sending part of his army as reinforcements to Burnside’s Army of the Gulf, so as to bolster the Union’s chances of taking Port Hudson. Grant decided to send General Rosecrans, with whom he had a bad rapport, though the decision was also influenced by Burnside’s brief and inconclusive Bayou Teche campaign.

    The hapless Burnside had been stuck in a rather unenviable situation since the capture of New Orleans in August, 1862. His army had seen little direct action, being mainly employed to assist Farragut in his river campaigns that failed to take Vicksburg or Port Hudson. Aside from these military maneuvers, Burnside, as the commander of the Department of the Gulf, had been tasked with overseeing the occupation of New Orleans and the first tentative steps towards a Reconstructed Louisiana, a political quagmire that must be studied in detail later. By March, 1863, Burnside had been ordered by Lincoln to try and take Port Hudson, in a southern thrust that, it was hoped, would weaken Vicksburg and expose it to capture by Grant.

    As Burnside advanced through the plentiful region of Bayou Teche, he was attacked by the Confederate Army under Richard Taylor, son of the late President Zachary Taylor. Taylor and Burnside faced each other at Fort Bisland in April, where Burnside would commit the bloody mistake of ordering a frontal assault that resulted in heavy casualties. However, even as the Confederates triumphed in land, in the river their gunboat fleet had been defeated decisively, which opened the possibility of the Federals landing behind Taylor. Conscious of this threat, Taylor was forced to evacuate the Fort, and although Burnside pursued, he was unable to bag the canny rebel. Still, and despite the bloody nose he had received at Fort Bisland, Burnside and his troops had arrived near Port Hudson, ready to siege it.

    That’s when Grant decided to put his plan in action. This plan involved marching the Army down the west bank of the river while Porter’s flotilla would run Vicksburg’s batteries. The Army and the Navy would then meet south of the citadel, allowing the ships to ferry them across the Mississippi to the dry land to the southeast of Vicksburg, from where a campaign could begin. This was a daring plan full of risks, and even if successful, would cut Grant off his supply lines, forcing him to live off the land. Even some of his most loyal commanders expressed doubts. Sherman thought it better to again advance along the Mississippi central, and confessed that “I don’t like this roundabout project, but we must support Grant in whatever he undertakes.” Admiral Porter, too, warned that “when these gunboats once go below [Vicksburg] we give up all hopes of ever getting them up again”. But, in spite of these misgivings, all commanders decided to trust Grant.

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    David Dixon Porter

    By that time, most Confederates were convinced that their Gibraltar of the West could never be taken. Newspapers gloated that “there is no immediate danger here”, and the enlisted men believed that continuous failure would make the Yankees desert the army and “the nefarious designs of the Abolitionists”. Pemberton even prepared to send some regiments east to bolster the army Bragg had shattered, and instead of closely watching the Federals he and other Confederates prepared to hold a festive ball. They paid little attention to reports of movement along the Louisiana side of the river. In April 16th, as the Southerners waltzed, the fleet “floated down the Mississippi darkly and silently, showing neither steam nor light”.

    Alas, Porter was unable to pass through undetected, and soon enough a pitched artillery fight started, interrupting the music. Showing his good tactical mind, Porter instructed his boats to hug the eastern shore, making many rebel gunmen overshoot their target and minimizing the damage the Yankee navy received. The sound of cannons and the red bonfires lit to better see the river created an atmosphere that the crewmen could never forget. Yet, the rebels only sank one transport and failed to kill even a single bluecoat. A few days later, Porter would repeat this achievement by running six more transports, losing only one. Pemberton seemed unable to comprehend Grant’s plans, but his soldiers well suspected something was afloat. “We have given up all ideas of peace soon and are making our calculations in feeling to meet the worst yet”, one confessed.

    The worst was indeed yet to come. By the end of the month Grant had brought the fleet and his three corps, under Smith, Rosecrans, and Sherman, to New Carthage, and was ready to cross the river. The second phase of Grant’s plan was ready to start, and it was here that Grant showed his keen mind and good understanding of his enemies. Previous to the start of the campaign, Grant had leaked a false version of his plan, to make Johnston believe that he was moving his entire Army down to Port Hudson. Johnston’s nature as an aggressive commander meant that he couldn’t miss the chance to attack Grant, but also forced him to perpetually react to Grant’s actions instead of truly seizing the initiative. Through this deception Grant hoped to draw Johnston away from Vicksburg, separating him and Pemberton and preventing each from helping the other.

    Fulfilling Lincoln’s orders, he sent Rosecrans’ XIII Corps to Port Hudson, to aid Burnside in subduing the city. Grant then ordered Smith to demonstrate against Vicksburg’s bluffs and raid the farms to the north of the citadel; meanwhile, Sherman was to make an expedition along the Red River and raid Shreveport. This expedition had been conceived by Sherman himself as a way to “make that rich country pay in gold or cotton for all depredations on our river commerce" and “make them feel their vulnerability”. Yet now Sherman hesitated, not completely believing that his corps would be able to live off the land. It’s a testament to the strong friendship they had forged and their mutual respect and loyalty that Grant was able to convince Sherman to go forward. Thus, in that May began the first of the marches that would make Sherman the scourge of the South.

    At the same time, another Yankee soldier “set forth on what would become the most spectacular cavalry adventure of the war”. The Federal cavalry had, most of the time, been unable to match and best the rebels, and their inability to ride as well and as hard as they did left the Union armies vulnerable to guerrillas and raids. Benjamin Grierson, a former music teacher from Illinois, seemed an unlikely choice for a man who would have to defeat the likes of Forrest and Morgan. Grierson did not even like horses, having been kicked in the head by one as a child. But he proved nonetheless “one of the finest horse soldiers in the western theater”. Copying the tactics of his foes, Grierson rode forward in a daring 16-day raid that destroyed supply depots and railroads and captured some 500 rebels. Grierson, Grant exulted, had “spread excitement throughout the State, destroyed railroads, trestle works, bridges, burning locomotives & rolling stock taking prisoners destroying stores of all kinds.”

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    Benjamin Grierson

    Sherman’s raid did not have as large an effect as Grierson’s in a logistical sense, but it managed to surpass it in destruction and strike fear into the hearts of Southerners as never before had a Union commander done. Having abandoned his supply base, Sherman’s soldiers survived by seizing the “supplies that penniless women and children could not afford to buy” and stripping plantations bare of all they had. Sherman carved a path of destruction and devastation that truly showed that war was hell. ‘‘Not a foot of rail fence remained unburned . . . the whole line of our march was one flame of fire which consumed fences, cotton fields, meadows, hay stacks and everything combustable”, said a soldier. In a report, Grant described how “Houses have been plunder’d and burned down, fencing destroyed and citizens frightened without an enquiry as to their status in this Rebellion, cattle and hogs shot and Stock driven off”.

    In truth, Sherman’s raid was neither wanton nor vindictive, and he tried to limit needless violence especially against the poor and the loyal. In line with Grant’s instructions, he harshly dealt with any soldier that engaged in “depredations”. But the war had irremediably changed, and neither the soldiers nor their commanders felt much mercy against the rebels who had ruthlessly preyed on their comrades and defenseless Unionists. Sherman, a racist at heart, had no great concern for the enslaved who received his army with “tears and joy”, but seeing the horrors of slavery up close had awakened in the soldiers “a thirst in my heart for vengeance when I looked upon the master”, as one Iowa private described. Some Southern guerrillas attempted to stop the Yankees, but their tactics did not work against Sherman’s highly mobile force, and when the Union General hanged several captured partisans they seemingly vanished.

    Grierson’s and Sherman’s raids had a devastating effect on a region already greatly destroyed by the war. “Villages that once were prosperous and flourshing are now desolate and the whole country on eather side of the river looks like some dreary waste where God in His wisdom has seen fit to wreek his vengeance upon a wicked people”, wrote a soldier. “Plantations were burning far and near, down the river and inland from the river.”, rejoined another. “If the angel of destruction had passed over this region the blight would not have been more complete”, concluded a veteran. “This is the effect of that demon war.” Sherman’s raid came to an end in June, after he brushed aside Richard Taylor at Mansfield. Sherman then took and destroyed everything of military value in Shreveport, leaving the city a smoldering ruin and dismantling the main logistical center of the Confederate Trans-Mississippi. While Grierson went south to join Burnside, Sherman returned to Grant with thousands of contrabands and many bales of confiscated cotton.

    These twin expeditions sounded bells of alarm throughout the Confederacy. A panicked Breckinridge, careworn and dispirited after the disaster of Union Mills, sent a flurry of telegrams asking Johnston to do something and emphasizing the absolute necessity of holding Vicksburg. Johnston himself had been greatly shocked by it all, but he believed he had deciphered Grant’s intentions. Smith had only weakly demonstrated against Vicksburg while both Grierson and Sherman had gone south, Grierson rejoining the Army of the Gulf instead of returning to Grant. This all convinced him that Grant was shifting south and intended to take Port Hudson before joining Burnside for an attack on Vicksburg. Decided to prevent this, Johnston started to shift south, a movement that was delayed by Grierson’s raid. This played right into Grant’s hands.

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    The Shreveport Raid

    Johnston’s decision to shift his Army south by rail has been long criticized as a fatal mistake. Johnston thought that Grant had completely shifted to Port Hudson, where he and Burnside could subdue the port and open an unimpeded supply line from New Orleans to New Carthage, thus bypassing the guerrillas and difficult terrain that had doomed the first Vicksburg campaign. This was the kind of plan Lincoln envisioned in Philadelphia, and was in and of itself not a bad plan. If Grant had truly intended to follow this plan, then Johnston’s choice to pursue him and stop him before he was able to join with Burnside was probably the right one, because holding Port Hudson was just as vital. Having decided that Vicksburg was not greatly threatened anymore and that what mattered was defeating Grant, Johnston pulled out most of the Vicksburg garrison except for Pemberton and 10,000 men who would guard the citadel.

    That’s when Grant decided to strike. Grant’s timing was impeccable, and this is because he knew the disposition of the terrain and Johnston’s numbers and movements thanks to a red of spies established by Greenville Dodge, an accomplished spy who provided invaluable intelligence, even if he spent the hefty sum of 5,000 dollars per month. Contrabands and escaped slaves were an important part of this spy network, showing yet again the capacity and fighting spirit of African Americans. By that point Union Mills had already shown that to the entire nation, and Grant, an early believer in the martial capacity of Black soldiers, would include an all-black corps in the campaign. Its command was trusted to James McPherson, a genial soldier who was by no means an abolitionist but exhibited humanitarian concern towards the contrabands and had even pronounced a speech in favor of Black recruitment.

    On June 18th, Grant’s troops crossed the river, landing at Bruinsburg and proceeding to seize Grand Gulf. This sudden movement took Johnston by surprise, as he had expected Grant to continue south. Johnston immediately tried to go north and destroy Grant, reasoning that he would have to stay in Grand Gulf for a couple of weeks to gather supplies, but Grant had taken nothing except ammunition and arms and had abandoned his supply lines, rushing to Jackson. The Canton retreat and the Shreveport raid had perfected the Army of the Tennessee’s foraging skills, and they were able to find plentiful food. An oft-cited anecdote has a furious farmer in a mule demanding compensation, for his farm had been stripped bare by a Union regiment. Answered the commander: “Well, those men didn’t belong to my division at all, because if they were my men they wouldn’t even have left you that mule.”

    Johnston tried to shift his army north to protect the state capital, but the lamentable state of Southern logistics made this movement slow and cumbersome. When Grant reached Jackson in June 28th, Johnston had failed to concentrate his entire force. Johnston attempted to use the high ground at Wright Ridge, to the west of Jackson, to delay Grant enough for the rest of his army to arrive, but the “incomplete and poorly located earthworks thrown together” around the city were no match for Grant’s dashing Yankee boys. In a brave charge of bayonets, Johnston’s force was routed and the state capital was taken, alongside several supplies that Johnston intended to send to Vicksburg. Johnston then retreated behind the Pearl River, while the victors destroyed everything of military value, “doing their work so thoroughly that Jackson became known to its conquerors as Chimneyville”.

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    Battle of Jackson

    While Grant rushed to Vicksburg, Johnston deliberated his next move. He was conscious that the small Vicksburg garrison would not be able to resist Grant for long, and Grant’s dizzying speed confused him. His guerrillas had been unable to cut any supply line, not understanding that Grant had no supply line. Rushing to Vicksburg may afford him an opportunity to face Grant again, but he would have to wait for his army, much of it still to the south, to gather. Besides, Port Hudson, which Burnside had been sieging for weeks, would be unable to resist for much longer. Going after Grant at Vicksburg would give up Port Hudson, and Johnston would probably be unable to save either citadel. Consequently, Johnston decided that saving Port Hudson would be more important. Johnston hoped to join with Taylor and drive Burnside away from Port Hudson, after which they could go north, defeat Grant and retake Vicksburg.

    As predicted, Grant quickly reached Vicksburg, on July 1st. An anguished Pemberton had learned that Johnston would not try to help him, and he lacked vital supplies that were meant for him but were instead seized by the Federals at Jackson. Trapped in an impossible situation, Pemberton started to make preparations for abandoning Vicksburg. This despite civilians that begged him not to abandon them to the abolitionists and telegrams by Secretary Davis stating that Vicksburg could not be given up without a fight. The lack of communication and trust between Pemberton and Johnston also contributed to this error, for Pemberton practically knew nothing of what Johnston planned. When Grant’s troops arrived to Vicksburg’s entrenchments, they found dispirited and famished rebels, who believed themselves abandoned by their commanders and outclassed by their enemies. Nonetheless, they fought hard.

    The assault began on July 3rd. Grant and Sherman looked on from the heights near the city, as their soldiers prepared to assault the earthworks. "Until this moment I never thought your expedition a success,” confessed Sherman. “I never could see the end clearly until now. But this is a campaign. This is a success if we never take the town.” But Grant was decided to take the town. At 2pm, Potter’s gunboats and Grant’s artillery unleashed a fiery storm upon Vicksburg, while the bluecoats moved forward and assault the rebel position. Severely outnumbered and demoralized, the rebels tried their best to resist the charging Yankees. What one Union colonel called “the most murderous fire I ever saw” took the lives of hundreds of Union soldiers, but the graybacks still gave way and by the end of the day Grant had taken most of the first line of defense. McPherson’s USCT corps performed well, increasing rebel despondency.

    The next day, just as Grant prepared a second assault, the rebels swept forward. At first, the Union General thought that Pemberton was counterattacking, but the true purpose of this assault soon became clear – it was a breakout attempt. Grant quickly shifted his troops to try and prevent Pemberton from escaping, but the movement could not be executed quick enough, and Grant was reluctant to call of the simultaneous assaults his troops had started. As a result, some 4,000 soldiers, including Pemberton, managed to escape Vicksburg. A brief chase was unable to catch them before they joined Forrest’s cavalry, which screened their movement. Pemberton’s escape was one of the most daring achievements of the war, but few considered it a success for it meant that Vicksburg had fallen. The “Yankee Pemberton” received great opprobrium by Confederates who thought him cowardly and maybe treacherous, despite his insistence that saving his army was the right choice.

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    The Battle of Vicksburg

    On July 4th, 1863, the last few Confederate defenders were routed, and then finally forced to surrender. “I shall never forget the woeful sight of a beaten, demoralized army—humanity in the last stage of endurance,” commented a citizen. “Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, foot-sore, bloody, the men limped along completely whipped”. One woman contrasted these beaten Southrons with the victorious Yankees: "What a contrast [these] stalwart, well-fed men, so splendidly set-up and accoutered [were] to . . . the worn men in gray, who were being blindly dashed against this embodiment of modern power.” The Union Army entered the Gibraltar of the West in a jubilant mood, in the “most glorious Fourth I’ve ever spent”, according to a soldier. Yet they did not taunt the rebels, but offered them rations and saluted their courage. This maybe lessened the sting of seeing Black Union troops marching into the city and being received by joyful slaves who shouted “Glory Hallelujah!” to the skies.

    Grant did not rest in his laurels for long. He quickly paroled his prisoners, not wanting to take the time to conduct them to a prisoner’s camp, and then set forth in hot pursuit of Johnston, intending to destroy him. The Confederate General had been informed of the Vicksburg disaster and that Grant was coming. Though he briefly considered turning back and facing him, he decided to press onward with his original plan, reasoning that he could occupy Vicksburg back after defeating Burnside. Desperate letters from Port Hudson, where skinned rats were being sold in the markets, made it clear that he had no option. Johnston continued to move to Osyka, the nearest supply depot, but the bad state of the railways plus Grierson’s continuous harassing slowed him down. An annoyed Johnston sent Cleburne to bag Grierson, but instead of the cavalryman Cleburne found Rosecrans.

    Rosecrans and Burnside had been working closely to subdue Port Hudson while Grant operated against Vicksburg. Burnside had too believed that Grant was going to move his entire army to Port Hudson, but as the picture became clearer, Burnside decided that his Army of the Gulf could defeat Johnston. Rosecrans was the one selected for this push. With meticulous, brilliant movements, Rosecrans had gathered supplies and moved towards Cleburne, intercepting him at Terrys Creek, to the west of Osyka. But Cleburne was just as capable, evading combat and returning to Johnston, who decided to confront Rosecrans. The resulting battle was a pitched and ferocious affair, where no side had the upper hand at first, until Rosecrans committed a fatal mistake and sent a poorly worded order to his flank commander. While the confusion was being straightened out, the advance stalled and Cleburne was able to hit the Union flank, sending the Yankees fleeing.

    While Rosecrans retreated behind the Amite River, Johnston completed his preparations to lift the siege of Port Hudson. That’s when partisans arrived with information carried by a courier they had intercepted. Grant was coming, and much faster than expected. Johnston had believed that Pemberton would resist longer and that guerrillas would slow Grant down, but neither had happened. Though the situation looked increasingly bleak, Johnston welcomed the chance to face Grant, especially now that his entire force was gathered and supplied, whereas at Jackson Grant had faced but a fraction of his entire army. On August 16th, Johnston chose the small town of Liberty for the following battle. It was fitting that armies fighting for completely opposite conceptions of liberty and freedom would face each other in that town.

    Grant’s army advanced in three columns, with Sherman going towards Liberty, Smith towards Osyka, and McPherson in between. Seeking to separate and isolate Grant’s columns, Johnston fired at Sherman, who was pushed against the forests to his rear. Just as Johnston planned, Grant immediately ordered Smith and McPherson into the fray, which required crossing the Amite River. This exposed them to a counterattack, and the cautious McPherson, seeing this, advanced rather slowly. Losing his patience, Johnston attacked and started to push the Union corps towards the river. McPherson then started to plead for help, and the calls grew desperate when McPherson was shot and put hors de combat (he would lose his arm, but survive). After this, Grant decided to heed his call and ordered Smith to come to the rescue, even though that involved abandoning the road to Osyka, thus affording the rebels one escape route.

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    Battle of Liberty, also called more thematically The Battle for Liberty

    Smith’s help saved McPherson’s corps and maintained the Union position west of the Amite. The terrible combat died down as night fell and the stalemated enemies retreat and regroup. Savage, furious combat around the Amite had “made the waters run red with blood and corpses”, while the forests to the north were burning due to a pitched artillery fight between Johnston and Sherman. In a late-night war council, Cleburne recommended retreating to Osyka and trying to lift the Port Hudson siege through another route, but Johnston was reluctant. The starving garrison would not resist for much longer, and he was confident that he could push the Yankees to the river and destroy them the following day. Discounting Rosecrans, whom he believed defeated, Johnston concentrated all his soldiers for a push against Smith and McPherson at dawn-break.

    Unfortunately for Johnston, Rosecrans hadn’t been idle. After licking his wounds, he had contacted Burnside and gotten reinforcements, and, showing his dynamic energy, he had built a bridge in record time, crossing the fork that Johnston was confident would protect his army. As the titanic struggle around Liberty was renewed, it seemed like the rebels would carry the day when Rosecrans’ men suddenly burst from the south. Grant, quick to realize what was happening and even quicker to seize the initiative, immediately ordered an all-out attack. Smith organized an artillery barrage in a grand Napoleonic style, while McPherson’s soldiers charged with fury, intending to avenge their commander. With the enemy advancing on both its front and rear, the Southern army gave to panic, preventing Johnston from forming a coherent response as he was crushed between Grant and Rosecrans’ pincers.

    Cleburne and slightly less than half of the Army managed to escape through the unguarded road to Osyka, making many blame McPherson and his supposedly bad performance in the first day of the Battle of Liberty. Nonetheless, this blemish could hardly obscure the great victory, as more than half of Johnston’s army was encircled and destroyed, the rebel general himself captured. The remnants of the Army of Mississippi made a hasty retreat to the interior, abandoning Port Hudson and ceding the entire Valley to the Union. Just a few days after the Battle of Liberty, Grant arrived at Port Hudson, whose defenders had pinned all their hopes in Johnston. The news of his defeat and capture broke their spirit, and when Grant honored his Fort Donelson nickname and demanded an unconditional surrender on August 22nd, they accepted.

    Reflecting on the defeat, one of the last defenders of Port Hudson penned a letter that speaks of great anguish: “As I looked upon the scene and reflected upon the mighty blow we had just received . . . upon the carnage and desolation and destruction which should sweep over our beloved South . . . tears of bitter anguish fell from my eyes and a cloud of darkness and gloom settled upon my mind.” Even as the Yankees shared rations and cigars with the defeated rebels, many Southerners could not help expressing similar bitterness and despair. Not even the Union Mills disaster had produced such hopelessness, for “Most Southerners did not view Lee’s setback as something that doomed the Confederacy”, but “the loss of Vicksburg and Johnston’s army brought a quite different reaction.”

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    The surrender of Port Hudson

    Secretary Davis confessed he had fell into “the depth of gloom in which the disasters on the Mississippi have shrouded our cause”; Mary Boykin Chesnut said she “felt a hard blow struck on the top of my head, and my heart took one of its queer turns. I was utterly unconscious.” The most distressed reaction came from Breckinridge. The embattled President, whose faith in the cause had already been badly shaken, appeared before his Cabinet with a sealed letter he asked everyone to sign. The cabinet members hesitated, until the loyal Davis stepped forward and affixed his signature to the paper. The other men followed suit, as Breckinridge weakly but effusively thanked them. Only later did they learn that they had signed a pledge to surrender should the Confederacy suffer another such disastrous defeat.

    In the North, the people jubilantly celebrated the great victory. Grant himself would later declare that the fate of the Confederacy was sealed as soon as Vicksburg fell. In Philadelphia “the announcement of the news was received with cheer upon cheer from the crowds of officers and clerks”, according to a journalist. An overjoyed Lincoln pronounced Grant’s campaign “one of the most brilliant in the world”, and declared that "Grant is my man, and I am his for the rest of the war." Indeed, through his achievements Grant had shattered a Confederate army, divided the Confederacy in twain and opened the Mississippi to commerce. As a steamer made the entire trip down the mighty river for the first time in years, Lincoln declared poetically that “The Father of the Waters again goes unvexed to the sea”.

    The struggle for the Mississippi was now over, and though there still laid more battles and bloodshed in the future, the end of the war was in sight. The three victories at Union Mills, Vicksburg and Lexington seemed to assure the eventual victory of the Union, and with it a new birth of freedom for the United Stated. As new campaigns started for Mobile, Atlanta and Richmond, and elections confirmed the people’s confidence in the Lincoln government, the Union cause marched forward with energy and enthusiasm, while the Confederacy sank into despondency and desperation. Even Breckinridge started to wonder whether their magnificent epic had not come to an end.

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    Side-story: "The Year of Jubilee Comes to Maryland"
  • The Year of Jubilee comes to Maryland

    The first time the Yankees passed through Henry’s plantation, they were not carrying the flag of freedom. Henry and the other children were not excited to see these white men in Blue uniforms. White men should be avoided, lest they thought you “uppity” and strike you like Massa liked to do when he was angry or drunk. So, they stayed behind, in the shadows, while the soldiers passed through. Aside from their long column, Henry could remember Massa’s furious glare, as he angrily muttered against those Yankees and their disrespect for Southern rights. When the leader of the regiment came to Massa and asked to set his headquarters in the plantation, Massa started to howl, saying that he would help no Yankees. “Are you secesh then?”, the bearded officer asked, his voice vibrating with a Northern twang that Henry had hardly ever heard. “We don’t like traitors, sir. We only like Union men.” That, and the glares of the bluecoats, probably convinced Massa.

    Among the bluecoats there were some who glared at the slaves every time they saw them working in the fields. Henry at first thought it was because they were white men, and white men hated slaves like him. But then he overhead them talking. Their words were strange – “monstrous institution”, “curse upon the country”, “crusade for freedom”. Henry had never ever seen a book and didn’t know how to read or how to interpret these strange words. He was able, however, to see the pity and sympathy in the soldiers’ eyes. Some of them said they came from “Massachusetts” and that they were fighting to end slavery and save the Union. “Will you free us, sir?”, Henry had asked, still fearful and timid but filled with a new feeling of hope. The most radical of the soldiers, a kind pastor who, unlike their preacher, said that God didn’t like slavery, shook his head sadly. “Our commander says we can’t take any contrabands”, he explained, “but in God’s good time, and using Father Abraham Lincoln as his instrument, this land will be purged of the accursed institution”. Henry again didn’t understand, but he knew it meant that freedom wouldn’t come.

    When the Lincoln soldiers left, they left with three of their farmhands. Moses, Simon, and John were young, they had no family, for their loved ones had been sold down South. Moses’ wife had, in fact, been sold just a few months before the war, and Henry could still hear him crying sometimes. Henry was one of the lucky ones, really. He only had a few scars, and though they had sold his father his mother was still with him. No one was surprised that those three had decided to leave; they were surprised, however, that the Yankees had taken them. Massa of course hollered with rage, but the bearded Yankee just said that they were contrabands of war and were now helping the cause of the Union. “I thought your soldiers were ordered not to entice my property?”, Massa had asked. “We didn’t entice them, sir”, the Yankee answered with a smirk. “They came because they wanted to, and according to Congress we can’t return any contrabands.” That night, Henry heard as Massa got drunk and cursed the names of Lincoln and Butler, though he didn’t know who those gentlemen were.

    The second time the Yankees marched through Henry’s plantation, they weren’t from Massachusetts, they weren’t friendly, and they weren’t happy. They were still dressed in blue, and they still carried the same flag, but it still wasn’t the flag of freedom. The “grapevine telegraph” had told the grown-ups that the Yankees had not been able to take a town called “Washinton”, and that a “General Madowell” had died. Many cried, included Henry’s mother, and they all silently but fervently prayed for the rebels to be defeated and the Union folks to win. Henry understood a little better now, and he joined those prayers. Things were worse now in the plantation. Massa used the whip more often and worked them harder. He had even tried to move them south, but the Yankee soldiers prohibited him from moving to a place called South Carolina. They would remain in Maryland. But despite these sufferings, the grownups smiled more, and Henry’s mom even sang again, something she hadn’t done since they sold dad. She sang about freedom.

    When the Yankees retook Washington and Father Abraham signed the Proclamation, the shouts of Glory Hallelujah echoed throughout the entire Sunny South. They were in Maryland, so no Yankee came to give them freedom, but they still cried and shouted. “Father Abraham has spoken”, Henry’s mom would say. “The Year of Jubilee is coming.” Massa started to drink and whip more than ever before, but he could not quiet the Proclamation. Three more farmhands escaped, then an entire family. But Henry could not leave, he would not. His mom was sick, she wouldn’t survive. He knew that Old Henrietta had died when trying to escape. He couldn’t lose his mom, so when she asked him whether he didn’t want to leave with Sam and try and reach the Yankee camps, he said not. He would rather receive fifty whippings than abandon her.

    The third time the Yankees marched through Henry’s plantation, they came looking for Black men. “By the proclamation of Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States”, firmly said the officer in charge, “I hereby invite all Negro men to sign up for the Armed Forces of the Republic.” Massa protested. “You can’t do that, Maryland is excluded”, he claimed. The officer answered that the Congress had decreed that Black men could join the Army if they wanted, and obtain their freedom through that service. As Massa went away, cursing many gentlemen that Henry didn’t know (Summer, Stevens, Wade), many of the young men of the plantation signed up for the Army. Henry then recognized the kind pastor. He looked a decade older, and was jumping around in crutches. “A wound of Anacostia”, he said with pride when Henry asked. “At least I still have it! Poor William Foster lost both his legs thanks to that rebel artillery…” Henry asked if he could too join the Army, free his mom, and receive a blue uniform. “I’m afraid not, my boy. You’re too young”, the pastor said. “But you and your mother could go to that nearby contraband camp. There are teachers, who can teach you. You would be a great credit to the Negro race!”. Thinking of his sick mother and her feeble legs, Henry shook his head.

    Perhaps it was God almighty that gave her that illness, for they later found out that a group of “gue-ri-llas” had slaughtered the contraband camp. Massa gloated before them, saying that that’s what happened to disloyal slaves. Then Massa gloated even more when he heard that a “General Ma-Cle-Llan” had been defeated by a General Lee. They cried that night, bitter tears of anguish and despair falling from their eyes as they contemplated a rebel victory. They also cried for Sally, the melancholic girl who had escaped only to be ravished and murdered by a marauder, and for Robert, a funny man who always made Henry laugh, who had gone missing and was either in a ditch in Maryland or a plantation in Georgia. Henry and the others had more opportunity to cry when “General Hu-ker” was defeated. As the Yankee troops marched northward, ragged and dispirited, Henry recognized a young Massachusetts soldier and asked for the kind pastor. “Father Edwards died gloriously for the Union at Manassas”, the soldier said simply.

    The fourth time the Yankees marched through Henry’s plantation, there were Black men with them. The Yankees were grim yet determined as they marched, mumbling about defeating Lee and defending “Pennsylvania”. The Black soldiers were timid, marching in silence. But behind the exterior, there was a certain pride, a certain valor in their stride. Now the Yankees were carrying the flag of freedom, and what’s more, Black men were helping to carry it. The children accompanied the Black soldiers, giggled and jumped around as they marched. The soldiers smiled, and said that they would show the traitor Lee what the coloreds could do, with the help of their gallant commander Doubleday. Henry and the children couldn’t believe there were Black men in Blue uniforms, fighting against the rebels. Old Massa turned as white as paper when he saw them, while Henry and his mom now saw freedom within their reach for the first time.

    Moses was among the soldiers that marched that day. No one had known whether he was alive or not. As the Yankees stopped to eat and rest, Moses explained that he lived in a contraband camp for many months until Father Abraham had allowed him to wear the uniform. “Nothing don’t scare the rebels like a Colored man with a rifle!”, Moses said as he held his weapon proudly in the air. Henry could not help noticing that the Black troops received sneers from the white soldiers, and could hear a few mutterings about how “niggers can’t fight”. Moses told him to not listen. “We are colored United States soldiers now,” he said, pointing to his brass “US” badge. “We will whip the rebel soldiers, you will see!”. After the Yankees left, Massa reunited everybody and warned to not dare leaving. He had important business to attend in Baltimore, he said, and he wanted to find everyone in their places when he came back.

    The fifth time the Yankees marched through Henry’s plantation, the Black soldiers were fewer, but they held their heads high in pride, the flag of freedom they carried waving in the air. The white soldiers did not sneer anymore, but now they laughed and celebrated alongside their Black comrades. Henry and the children thought it miraculous. Moses was not with them. When they asked, a Black soldier said with pride that “he died at Union Mills! But he died gloriously! He showed that traitor Stonewall!”. The children did not know what Union Mills was or who Stonewall was. But they knew that Moses was a hero. A few weeks later, a Yankee colonel came with a host of men and women not dressed in blue but in all colors. The Massa, who had not returned, had been found sending weapons to the rebels in “Bal-ti-mor”, and had been killed during those riots. Now, the Yankee man announced, the plantation would be administered by the Bureau of Confiscated and Abandoned Lands, and the Bureau of Freedmen and Refugees would take care of them. Henry and his mother smiled like never before, as she for the first time received medicine and he received books. Some even talked of receiving land. That night they prayed for Father Abraham and the Union Army, for the first time without fear.

    The sixth time the Yankees marched through Henry’s home farm, the Heroes of Union Mills were holding the flag of freedom high in the air.
     
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    Chapter 41: The Trumpet that Shall Never Call Retreat
  • The Battle of Lexington, fought in February 1863, was one of the greatest Union successes and one of the few rays of hope between the Peninsula and Union Mills. Through this victory, General George Henry Thomas, immortalized from then on as the “Sledgehammer of Lexington”, was able to expulse Braxton Bragg from Tennessee and proceed to the capture of Chattanooga in April. More importantly, he restored confidence in the Union cause at a time when battlefield reserves, rebel guerrillas and seditious Copperheads almost defeated it. But during the following months, Thomas’ army made no headway into Georgia and did not face Joe E. Johnston’s rebels. This has led many to conceive of the Tennessee theater as an unproductive dead end that pitied two incompetent and timid commanders.

    This perception is, needless to say, false. Thomas, despite his nickname of “Old Slow Trot”, was unable, not unwilling, to advance into Georgia due to a host of factors. Chief among them was the extremely difficult terrain of East Tennessee, a factor that had already frustrated many campaigns in the past and that enormously complicated Thomas’ task now. Devoid of infrastructure and roads, and further devastated by continuous guerrilla warfare, the terrain threatened Thomas’ army with nothing less than starvation. There were no supplies to be seized or river or rails that could bring food to hungry soldiers and civilians. Consequently, Thomas had to slow down and gather supplies for several months, this despite irritated demands from the War Department to move before he was forced into winter quarters.

    The difficult terrain was joined by an even more difficult political situation. East Tennessee, as one of the mountainous centers of Unionism in the South, was one of the few places where the Union Army was received as liberators not only by Black people, but also by Whites. This did not necessarily imply an end to violence or racial strife, however. Guerrilla bands, led in the West by the ruthless Forrest and in the east by Morgan, continued to terrorize the state. The strategic dimension of this bush war was maintained, as the guerrillas did everything they could to slow down Union movements and logistics, but as the process of Reconstruction started in Tennessee the actions of the guerrillas took in a political dimension as well. Usually seen as the precursors of the Ku Klux Klan and the White League, groups of terrorists (many of them from Georgia or Western Tennessee) engaged in counterrevolutionary terror against Thomas’ army and the state’s Unionists.

    Such violence was a direct response to the fears that the military administration led by Parson Brownlow would institute “Negro supremacy and White slavery”. These fears seemed somewhat justified by Brownlow’s radical inclinations, and when the Third Confiscation Act was signed into law, he indeed started to enforce it aggressively and radically. Sharing Stevens and Summer’s idea of Reconstruction as not a mere military pacification but a social revolution, Brownlow started to confiscate land from several prominent rebels and distributing it among the poor White Unionists and the freed slaves. Through confiscation and land distribution, Brownlow said, he would be able to erect “a nation of freedmen” within Tennessee and forever guard the state against “the approach of treason”.

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    Chattanooga was taken in April, severing one of the East-West communications and logistics paths for the Confederacy

    But the Brownlow regime quickly ran into conflict with the local chapter of the Land Bureau, headed by Lincoln appointees who wanted to moderate Brownlow’s policies. To be sure, both Brownlow and the Bureau agreed on confiscating the lands of the leading rebels – no one complained when Forrest’s extensive land holdings were confiscated and redistributed. The Moderates and the Radicals were divided by two main issues: what was to be done with the defeated rebels? And how was the Reconstruction of the state to proceed? Brownlow and the Radicals wanted to limit political participation to “true Union men” and follow an exhaustive Reconstruction that would disenfranchise most rebels and confiscate their lands for the benefit of Unionists both Black and White. The possibility of treason trials was open, with Brownlow famously threatening to have Forrest trialed before “a colored judge and a colored jury” and then hung “by a colored executioner before a colored crowd”.

    But the Bureau agents, acting according to Lincoln’s wishes, wanted to allow for the possibility of some “reconstructed rebels” taking part in the new regime and even receiving land in exchange of loyalty. Unlike African Americans and White Unionists, who received land with a secure title, they would be liable to treason trials and confiscation should they engage in further disloyal practices, such as supporting guerrillas. That way, a “perpetual sword of Damocles” would hang over them, forcing them to be loyal in acts if not in mind. Reconstruction, when seen through this prism, was less a social revolution and more a “carrot and stick” political approach. A particularly dogmatic Radical even called it a “dirty bribe”, and some seemed to argue for outright extermination.

    Brownlow and his supporters weren’t so extreme, but they refused to compromise on the issue of who was to lead Tennessee’s Reconstruction. Land confiscation, under the auspices of a Federal Bureau and a Federal Army, followed for the most part Lincoln’s guidelines, but the lack of a unified national policy for Southern Reconstruction meant that Brownlow and the Radicals had the advantage within the state. The result was a bitter partisan conflict between Moderate and Radical factions, that constituted a sad prelude to the chronic partisanship that would affect Republican regimes in the post-war South. The result was that, contrary to Lincoln’s aims, the state remained under the rule of a small cradle of Eastern Unionists that seemed unable to agree on the form the laws and constitution of the New Tennessee should take.

    Tennessee’s moderate faction had a questionable asset in Andrew Johnson. Though still widely respected as a Union man, Johnson was undoubtedly a virulent racist that exhibited a weird mix of resentment and envy towards the planter class. He had seemingly undergone an incredible change of heart, telling Black Americans that he would be “your Moses . . . and lead you through the Red Sea of war and bondage to a fairer future of liberty and peace.” Such egalitarian messages, alongside fiery declarations that “Treason must be made odious and traitors punished”, gave Johnson a radical reputation within some circles. But, “Time would reveal that Johnson’s Radicalism was cut from a different cloth than that of Northerners who wore the same label”. This was already evident to some, as he chastised Bureau agents for giving lands to “undeserving Negroes” and opposed limited and timid plans to extend the suffrage to African Americans as discrimination against Whites, somehow.

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    War-time Reconstruction in Tennessee

    Johnson’s aptitude is emblematic of many Southern Unionists, who were more concerned with punishing traitors than with elevating the freedmen. Some Unionists demanded that “not a single acre of land” be given to the freedmen, and that political and economic power should be wielded only by “Union men – white Union men”. As such, and even though they supported measures of confiscation and disenfranchisement, most only did so as a way to punish the rebels and showed little concern for freedmen. A short-lived push for an independent East Tennessee had at its center an effort to “build a state for the benefit of the loyal white men”.

    Although there were some radicals on the Northern mold, including Brownlow, that supported Black civil rights and even Black suffrage, most Tennesseans seemed to agree that the new, Reconstructed state should be built on the shaky foundation of political disenfranchisement rather than a more stable but certainly revolutionary foundation that included Blacks as part of the body politic. Still, national factors such as the Battle of Union Mills and regional ones like the continuous activities of the guerrillas helped to change the opinions and soften the prejudices of many. Of note is the fact that Black militias would often go into battle alongside White militias, and in the midst of combat they often ended up working as integrated regiments de facto, even if racial segregation in militia units was still required. Some Unionists were even willing to admit the bravery and value of Black troops, and by the end of the year as a policy for Reconstruction started to crystallize at both the state and national level, some had started to push for extending the suffrage to Black veterans.

    Thomas remained mostly aloof from these political debates. It seems that, like most Union generals, Thomas was largely apolitical, and considered that the only duties of his military regime were to guarantee the conditions under which the people could trace a new path for the South. Thomas, however, supported the confiscation and land distribution program, saying that the Confederates had “justly forfeited by the laws of the country, of war, and of nations” their land. He was not afraid to use harsh method to deal with the terrorists that swarmed the state, and it was through his decisive military intervention that the worst of the resistance was stamped out. Thomas was, furthermore, impressed enough by Black men’s martial capacity that he included an all-Black corps in the Army of the Cumberland. Nonetheless, guerrilla raids continued as it was simply impossible for the Union to patrol every inch of that enormous expanse.

    Despite these achievements, the fact remained that the Army of the Cumberland had done practically nothing since it took Chattanooga in April. Perhaps it’s the fault of Philadelphia bureaucrats that did not understand the intricacies of supply and the necessity for careful planning, but the Army of the Cumberland and the Confederate Army of the Tennessee would not face each other until 1864. Luckily for Thomas, Lincoln was more lenient towards him than he had been towards Sherman and Buell, mainly because unlike them Thomas had accomplished his cherished goal of liberating East Tennessee and starting the Reconstruction of the state. Lincoln also liked Thomas’ unassuming nature, which reminded him of Grant. A less tactful General may have demanded more recognition and lost goodwill in Philadelphia. Lincoln thus declared that “we gave Grant a year and he gave Vicksburg to us . . . we can grant the same privilege to General Thomas, and I’m sure he’ll deliver Atlanta”.

    One event that helped Thomas in this regard was a successful and daring cavalry raid led by Col. Abel Streight, an Indiana lumber merchant who had taken part in a brief and unsuccessful experiment to form a mule-mounted cavalry during the Lexington campaign. As advertised the mules did require less forage and were apparently hardier, but they proved slow and unwieldly compared with horses. Streight put this experience to good use, and when he proposed the idea of a raid against Atlanta both Thomas and Lincoln endorsed it. Streight’s raid started a few weeks before Grierson’s more famous raid, leading many to think that this was planned. Others have argued that it was a stroke of luck. In a tactical sense, the raid was a failure, for it didn’t manage to cause much destruction and was quickly chased out of Georgia, but it was an enormous strategic accomplishment. Streight’s raid not only managed to cause panic in Atlanta but also distract Forrest’s cavalry, preventing them from stopping Grierson.

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    Abel Streight

    Despite this success, Lincoln still pushed Thomas to move forward, and he admitted to being “greatly dissatisfied” with Thomas’ lack of activity after Grant had taken Vicksburg and thus seized the spot as his favorite General. “You and your noble army now have the chance to give the finishing blow to the rebellion”, he informed the stern Virginian through Secretary Stanton. “Will you neglect the chance?" Finally, after slightly over six months of gathering supplies and fighting guerrillas, Thomas went forward in the last days of November, hoping to seize a position within Georgia before the weather forced into winter quarters. Guerrillas, the weather and the terrain had proven formidable adversaries to Thomas, but many Confederates feared that Joe Johnston would not prove as worthy a foe.

    Chief among the doubters was Breckinridge. Johnston had actually never wanted the command of the Army of Tennessee, despite the fact that Generals Leonidas Polk and B. Franklin Cheatham had recommended him for the position after the Lexington disaster. Cheatham had even vowed to never again serve under Bragg. Bragg, for his part, lashed out, threatening to have Cheatham court-martialed and even intimating that the President had been drunk during the campaign and that’s why he had failed to support him adequately. The story goes that Breckinridge was so infuriated by Bragg’s failure and declarations that he almost challenged him to a duel. Ultimately, he simply replaced him with Johnston, who tried to turn down this dubious honor with the feeble excuse that “to remove Bragg while his wife was critically ill would be inhumane.”

    This shuffle in command also responded to political realities, for Breckinridge wanted to get rid of Johnston, an unsubtle critic of the administration. Militarily, it seems that Breckinridge and Davis judged that a defensive campaign on defensive terrain would suit the timid Johnston better than the pivotal Virginia front or the highly mobile Mississippi front. These two fronts were trusted to Lee and A.S. Johnston (and after Vicksburg to Cleburne), generals that were esteemed by the President and his circle, something that only increased Joe Johnston’s bitterness. Johnston’s appointment was at first an apparently brilliant choice, and reports that “the army had recovered both its morale and its physical readiness” reached the President’s desk. This news lifted Breckinridge’s sagging spirits, and he soon started to entertain notions of Johnston “restoring the prestige of the Army” and “reoccupying the country”.

    Johnston shattered these expectations. He claimed those reports were exaggerated and offered a lengthy list of problems, including the confidence of the army, its artillery, horses and logistics. Breckinridge was dismayed, while Davis darkly said that it was simply impossible to make Johnston fight. Seeking to remedy this, Breckinridge and Davis tried to convince Longstreet to go and serve in the Georgia front, but both he and Lee opposed the idea. The start of a new Virginia campaign finally killed the proposal entirely. Consequently, with Thomas slowed down by factors out of his control and Johnston being unwilling to fight, the Tennessee/Georgia front so no action whatsoever. That’s it, until November 1863 when Thomas finally started moving.

    The Union plan was rather uninspiring, involving only a direct southward advance to Dalton. It seems he was hoping to draw Johnston into open battle around the rocky ridges around the town. Informed by partisans, Johnston quickly moved to seize the high terrain, a rather uncharacteristic display of initiative. With Union soldiers looking forward to seeing the “Sledgehammer” slam into Johnston and rebels talking gleefully of how the “Undaunted Johnston” would push Thomas back to the Ohio, the whole affair suddenly seemed like the first stages of a decisive battle. In the night of November 17th, when the temperature started to drop, both armies got into position. Southern bands started to play “Dixie” and “The Bonnie Blue Flag”, making the Union drummers respond by blasting “The Battle Cry of Freedom” and “Yankee Doodle”.

    dOlbskUpOqOHFCq8fhIE-4y-vgyQd94eQPliXfWXlaamc6ZMxlrk6ltoDkirvMJZmUR7NyAdwb0GSlAxupfPRlI5QngV1WUksJNmCtGKoEY8
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    The inhospitable Dalton terrain wasn't adequate for a large scale campaign

    It turned out that this battle of the bands was the fiercest action that Dalton would see for the moment. Slowed down by guerrillas and unable to maintain the element of surprise, Thomas had been unable to seize the Dalton heights. Prodding assaults resulted in an enormous disparity in casualties, making Thomas reluctant to throw his full force into the fray. His original plan to outflank Johnston through the Snake Creek Gap had failed as a result of the muddy roads, and now that he was faced by the imperfect Dalton plan, Thomas decided that he'd rather execute a perfect plan in Spring 1864 than a flawed one right then. For his part, Johnston newfound nerve evaporated and he prepared to evacuate the position. The result was anti-climax, as both commanders refused to engage and broke off before a true battle had started. “The Battle of Danton” thus has gained a reputation as one of the greatest battles never fought, and a favorite of uchronia enthusiasts. Thomas was then forced to go into winter quarters, producing dismay in Philadelphia and elation in Richmond.

    If the Georgia front was disappointingly anti-climactic, the Union saw plenty of action in other fronts that ended up in disappointing climaxes. Both then and now, many have wondered why the Union was not able to give the final blow to the rebellion, when it seemed at its lowest point after of Union Mills and Vicksburg. Lincoln himself wondered what happened, exclaiming that “Our Army held the war in the hollow of their hand & they would not close it.” “There is bad faith somewhere…”, the President concluded, but the Army begged to differ. Many of the high-ranking Eastern general would instead place the blame on Lincoln and his armchair general tendencies. Whatever the true reason, disagreements over strategy and perhaps overambitious plans prevented the Union from ending the rebellion in the later half of 1863.

    For the few days that immediately followed Union Mills, it had seemed like the end of the war was at hand. The Army of the Susquehanna had been unable to completely destroy the Army of Northern Virginia, but the rebels had suffered grievous losses of both men and material they could ill afford. The need to put down the Copperhead riots had prevented a prompt pursue, but Lincoln believed that the rebellion could be ended if “General Reynolds completes his work . . . by the literal or substantial destruction of Lee's army”. But despite its appearance as a victorious army, the Army of the Susquehanna had also suffered disastrous losses, and many of its effectives keenly felt the physical and mental strain of several weeks of bloody campaigning. For example, in a letter to his wife, General Meade admitted that “over ten days, I have not changed my clothes, have not had a regular night’s rest . . . and all the time in a great state of mental anxiety.” Many, officers and enlisted men, shared Meade’s exhaustion.

    Furthermore, it was then that Lincoln’s first instance of “meddling” took part, as he ordered the troops that had restored order in New York and Baltimore to remain there for the time being. Reynolds objected, wanting to concentrate all his effectives for the next campaign, but Lincoln wanted the military presence to continue until the next draft was completed, in order to assert the supremacy of the government and dissuade similar resistance elsewhere. Privately, Reynolds agreed with those who pleaded with Lincoln to simply suspend the draft, which he argued would be unnecessary if Lee was defeated. Reynolds also balked at what he saw as a sordid use of his soldiers’ sacrifice for the advancement of the Administration’s political aims.

    As a consequence of all these delays, the Army of the Susquehanna spent the several next months licking its wounds. Though Lincoln recognized that it wasn’t Reynolds’ fault, he could not help but express bitterly that a “golden opportunity is gone, and I am distressed immeasureably because of it”. Nonetheless, “victory was a wondrous tonic for Lincoln”, who regained the optimism and good humor that previous disasters had robbed him. He even found time to play with his children, Tadd and Willie, who had given him a scare the previous winter when they came down with a minor illness. John Nicolay happily wrote some weeks after Union Mills that “the Tycoon is in fine whack. I have rarely seen him more serene & busy. He is managing this war, the draft, foreign relations, and planning a reconstruction of the Union, all at once.”

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    Lincoln and one of his sons, Thomas "Tad" Lincoln

    The war was, naturally, the top priority. Believing that he had finally found generals who would fight and that the time had come to attack the Confederacy from all sides, Lincoln gave his support to several military projects that tried to take advantage of Southern weakness. Charleston thus became one of the premier objectives of the Union alongside Richmond and Atlanta. Capturing “the Citadel of Treason” would not only be enormously significant, but also presumably easy, for the Federals knew that the coastal defenses had been stripped of men in favor of Lee’s army. In fact, efforts to capture this attractive plum had started before Union Mills, but the commander in charge, Samuel Du Pont, was reluctant to attack, and when he finally did so, he failed disastrously and ended with six disabled ironclads.

    Out of patience, Lincoln replaced Du Pont with John A. Dahlgren, a man of little experience whose only qualification seemed to be his friendship with Lincoln. Dahlgren was decided to subdue the cradle of secession by a combined army-navy operation. Much to Reynolds’ chagrin, the necessary troops were taken from the Army of the Susquehanna. Underscoring the political aims of the campaign was the fact that one of the ships would be piloted by Robert Smalls, a Black man famous for taking over the Confederate ship CSS Planter and escaping Charleston harbor, freeing himself and dozens of slaves. The second attempt to seize Charleston failed as well. Though the Union managed to reduce Fort Sumter to rubble, the landing was mishandled and the flotilla was forced to retreat at the end, having lost several ironclads again.

    The failures in Georgia and South Carolina exasperated Lincoln, but the President could at least take some solace in the successes found in Arkansas. That state had been basically left undefended after most of its troops had been transferred towards the east to resist Grant's campaigns against Corinth and then Vicksburg. Arkansas was, the governor declared, "lost, abandoned, subjugated . . . not Arkansas as she entered the confederate government." If help wasn't forecoming, Arkansas wouldn't remain in the Confederacy waiting until it was "desolated as a wilderness". The governor was not exaggerating, for the route to Little Rock was practically open, Samuel R. Curtis' small force advancing to the capital. Only guerrilla combat, that saw the use of Native American troops by both sides, slowed the Union in its march.

    To prevent the fall of another Confederate state capital, Breckenridge appointed the diminutive Thomas C. Hindman, a "dynamo only five feet tall". To aid Hindman, Breckinridge suspended the writ of habeas corpus and allowed him to declare martial law, in order to enforce the draft and thus scrape together an Army. Although the morale and readiness of the resulting force was suspect, and the methods employed aroused "howls of protest", Hindman did succeed in getting together more than 20,000 men. Hindman managed to stop Curtis' campaign for the time being in December 1862, though his force was then turned away by the abolitionist Kansan James G. Blunt at the Missouri border. That Hindman had not accomplished more concrete results led to Secretary of War Jefferson Davis recommending his replacement, pointing to his old friend Theophilus Holmes. Since the General did not impress Breckinridge with his performance at the Nine Days, Hindman remained in command.

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    Robert Smalls

    The situation in Arkansas seemed to stabilize for the time being, until things started to unravel in the spring of 1863. The critical situation in Vicksburg made Breckinridge order Hindman to send reinforcements to A.S. Johnston, in the hopes of saving the citadel. If Vicksburg fell, Secretary Davis wired Hindman, the enemy "will be then free to concentrate his forces against your Dept.", and even if Hindman did "all that human power can effect, it is not to be expected that you could make either long or successful resistance." To fulfill Breckinridge's orders, Hindman once again acted ruthlessly, executing draft dodgers and forcibly pressing men into service, which created a motley crew of guerrillas, conscripts and militiamen. But when the force found that they would be marched out of Arkansas, they revolted, many declaring openly that they would never leave their state and many others deserting. The governor encouraged this resistance, defiantly telling Breckinridge that Arkansas' soldiers "do not enter the service to maintain the Southern Confederacy alone, but also to protect their property and defend their homes and families".

    A brief attempt at enforcement through a declaration of martial law bore no results, and when Hindman finally forced a contingent out of the state the force just melted. The attempt to strongarm Arkansas had backfired enormously, with the soldiers fatally demoralized and all influential Confederates in both Arkansas and Missouri clamoring for Hindman's removal. One bitterly said that Breckinridge was someone "who stubbornly refuses to hear or regard the universal voice of the people.” With Arkansas at the brink of secession, Breckinridge had no choice but to remove Hindman and, at the end, only a few regiments ever joined Johnston's command - just in time, tragically enough, to end up trapped in Vicksburg, where they would surrender to Grant. When the new commander, Sterling Price, reached Little Rock, he found a demoralized and undisciplined Army.

    Such an Army was of little use to its commanders, but Price, obsessed with the idea of liberating Missouri from Yankee rule and badly overestimating the strength of the department, decided to take a gamble. The failed attempt to retake Maryland with the help of rebel rioters in Baltimore inspired him to attempt to retake Missouri with the help of St. Louis Copperheads. Marching north with over 10,000 men and hoping that thousands more would flock to his banner, Price seemed to be under the belief that he was leading an occupation force instead of a brief raid. As his force slowly advanced, many guerrillas did indeed join his ranks. But the leisure pace allowed the local Union commander, John M. Schofield, to gather the dispersed militia and troops, and take measures against the seditious rumors that circulated in St. Louis. By the time Price's army reached St. Louis, the city was in a firm Union grip, and the awaited for insurrection didn't happen. It's dubious that it would have materialized anyway, since the ill-conceived expedition had probably misjudged the pro-Confederate sentiment. An attack against the forts only resulted in horrific losses, the fact that Black militia took part only adding insult to injury, and resulting in the battle being known as the "Fort Saratoga of the West". Price finally retreated, his army melting away as guerrillas vanished into the countryside and deserters left by the thousands. But this would not be the last Missouri had seen of him.

    This defeat led the road to Little Rock open. Leading "a multiracial force of white, black, and Indian regiments", General Blunt encroached the capital and then captured it in September, 1863. With three quarters of the state now under Union control, a joyful Lincoln ordered his agents to start the Reconstruction of the state, appointing a military governor to rule over the occupied territories. Union control was often tenuous due to guerrilla activity, but the Confederates would never retake the state. A forlorn Breckinridge, for his part, appointed Kirby-Smith as commander of the Trans-Mississippi Department, informing him through Secretary Davis that he had "full authority . . . to administer to the wants of Your Dept., civil as well as military". The General now was "the head of a semi-independent fiefdom with quasi-dictatorial powers". In the estimation of James McPherson, "Kirby Smith rather than Breckinridge became commander in chief of the Trans-Mississippi theater. For the next two years “Kirby Smith’s Confederacy” fought its own war pretty much independently of what was happening elsewhere."

    These successes pleased the Union President, but important as they were, Lincoln's main concern remained the defeat of the Confederacy through the destruction of its main army, the Army of Northern Virginia. If Reynolds accomplished a decisive victory over Lee, the Northern public and Lincoln all believed that the war would be over. Consequently, anxious eyes turned to Virginia, waiting for the next campaign to commence. Though he shared this restlessness, Lincoln didn’t interfere as directly with the Army of the Susquehanna because he knew of Reynolds’ distaste for politics. Still, he impressed upon the General the need to act before winter turned all roads into mud. In response, Reynolds assured the President that he would fight Lee again before the end of the year, declaring the defeat of Lee's Army to be his highest priority. Lincoln agreed completely, and was reportedly overjoyed to have found a general that actually wanted to face Lee instead of angling for Richmond, like McClellan had done, or being reluctant to fight, like Hooker.

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    Thomas Carmichael Hindman

    Strategically, Reynolds’ top concerns were two: keep the rebel army from seizing the initiative and invading the North again, and drawing Lee into an open battle where his superior numbers would give him the victory. The Orange and Alexandria Railroad was thus chosen because it was the route that covered most of these objectives. Its main advantage was, of course, that it would keep the Army of the Susquehanna between Lee and the North, forcing Lee to face Reynolds and preventing him from attacking the North. It would also allow the Federals to Virginia Central Railroad, depriving Richmond and the Confederate Army of vital supplies from the Shenandoah – a deadly blow at a time when Lee’s army was forced to look for wild onions to ward off scurvy. Unfortunately for the Union, the route was a dead end and a logistical nightmare, making the prospect of an extended campaign against Richmond difficult if not impossible. No matter, said Reynolds, his objective was not Richmond, but Lee’s Army. If Lee’s Army was mauled or destroyed, then Reynolds could change to a more logistically appropriate route at his leisure.

    After several months of preparation and healing, the Army of the Susquehanna was ready for battle once again. It had been forced to detach some regiments for other campaigns and return the regiments it had borrowed from Thomas, something that also helps to explain the Virginian’s passivity. But it still retained close to a two to one advantage over the rebels – 110,000 bluecoats would go against 55,000 rebels at most. Doubleday’s USCT corps was of course included, and many now seemed to consider it something of a shock force that “could scare the bejeezus out of the rebels”, as a soldier wrote. “Yes sir, nothing don’t scare a rebel quite like Doubleday’s darkies!” In high spirits and with great trust and loyalty towards their leaders, the Federals advanced with a confidence that had never truly exhibited before.

    If the Northerners believed the rebels defeated, they were in for a distressing surprise. Despite their natural plunge in morale following Union Mills, most graybacks were convinced, or rather convinced themselves, that Marse Lee could once again seize victory from the jaws of defeat and carry them to glory and victory. This strong spirit de corps was motivated by a belief that defeat would mean perdition, which made the men "now more fully determined than ever before to sacrifice their lives, if need be, for the invaded soil of their bleeding Country”, as a soldier claimed. Reynolds also had to detach several units to guard his supply lines and pursue the murderous marauders swarmed his rear. The result was that before he had even seen the Army of Northern Virginia, Reynolds’ army had been reduced to some 80,000 effectives. Finally, now that they were on the defensive again, the rebels benefited from their usual advantages: difficult terrain they knew well and a net of couriers and spies that informed them of all Union movements.

    Putting these advantages to good use, Lee hid his troops behind the Blue Ridge Mountains as he advanced towards Reynolds’ flanks. True to his nature, Lee had hoped to use surprise and defeat Reynolds, but practical realities soon made him realize that an open battle might result in a complete defeat. So, Lee settled for wrecking the railroad behind Reynolds, something that embarrassed the Union General who had not been able to detect Lee’s movements. Still, and though Lee’s actions delayed him, Reynolds was glad to learn of his position and eager to face him. Continuing his advance to the Rappahannock river, Reynolds was forced to endure continuous guerrilla activity plus harassing at every little stream he had to cross. Nevertheless, he crossed the river on October 15th, reaching Lee’s formidable lines along the Rapidan.

    Some of the Union commanders were cowed by these imposing defenses, but Reynolds was undaunted. Refusing to turn back, he vowed to defeat Lee whatever it took. Looking to outflank Lee, he decided to ford the Rapidan to Lee’s right. However, to reach the Mine Run Reynolds would have to march through a dense forest of oaks and pines known as the Wilderness. Even if he managed to cross that “gloomy expanse”, he would then have to face a line along the Mine Run. Again, some commanders, including Reynolds’ friend Meade, were skeptical of their chances and suggested turning back, but Reynolds refused. If they moved quickly enough, the General pointed out, they may be able to overwhelm the rebel corps in the Mine Run and then proceed to bag the rest of Lee’s army. Trusting their commander, the Army of the Susquehanna forded the Rapidan and advanced to the Wilderness.

    Lee too welcomed the chance of facing Reynolds, though the Pennsylvanian’s decisiveness threw a wrench into his plans. Indeed, Lee had hoped the Federals would vacillate a little longer and that they would not dare assault the Mine Run, which would give him a chance to hit Reynolds’ other flank. When it became apparent that Reynolds was moving to the Wilderness, Lee was forced to change his tactics and quickly ordered troops to the Mine Run, hoping to completely man it, thus making it practically invincible. And so, the first stage of the battle was a race to the Mine Run, one in which the rebels counted with a powerful ally: the Wilderness itself.

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    The Wilderness

    A “trackless maze” of second-growth trees, the Wilderness slowed down the Union advance, for the Yankees were barely able to navigate it without getting lost. By confusing the Federals and preventing them from using their superior artillery effectively, the Wilderness more than evened the odds. Mindful of these factors, Lee decided to advance into the Wilderness and give battle to “those people”. Of course, the safe option would have been to wait for the Federals at the Mine Run, but Lee wasn’t known for taking the safe option. Maybe he wanted to recoup some of the glory he had lost at Union Mills. In any case, Lee advanced forward with Longstreet and Jackson, silently and unobserved, through secret paths the local residents had shown them. Meanwhile, and after crossing at Germania’s Ford, the Federals had managed to reach the Wilderness Tavern and were now ready to advance along the Orange Turnpike.

    That’s when Reynolds’ scouts reported that Lee had been seen near the Orange Turnpike, so immediately decided to seize the chance to hammer Lee. But his bluecoats couldn’t move as fast as the graybacks, who surprised them. The troops quickly unleashed a furious flurry of bullets that produced an ear-shattering noise and covered the forest with thick, acidic smoke. “The steady firing rolled and crackled from end to end of the contending lines as if it would never cease”, commented a Yankee. Reynolds and Lee then poured troops into the engagement, each hoping to gain the upper hand over their adversary. Winfield Scott Hancock’s men were the first to reach the battlefield, and they hit the rebels with such fury that they staggered back and seemingly retreated. “We are driving them, sir!”, happily exclaimed Hancock. “Tell General Reynolds we are driving them most beautifully.”

    But in their excitement the Yankees pushed too far, apparently forgetting that the rebels had reinforcements too. Indeed, when they broke into a clearing, they found Longstreet’s troops waiting for them, ready to counterattack. And counterattack they did, with furious rebel yells and an unrelenting charge that pushed Hancock back to his starting position. Neither army was able to retake the offensive after that, because exploding shells and roaring artillery had lit the Wilderness in fire. The flames soon consumed the earthworks of both sides, creating a “roaring inferno” that terribly increased the suffering of the soldiers. Sickening, traumatic scenes took place as “Wounded men . . . roasted alive on the forest floor, their agonized cries audible everywhere; many committed suicide rather than burn to death”.

    Recognizing that section of the Wilderness as a deadly trap, Reynolds pulled back and started to look for another venue for attack. Almost giving into his instincts, Reynolds at first insisted on leading the next charge himself, but he fortunately then rejected the idea and instead asked Doubleday’s fresh troops to spearhead the advance towards the Orange Plank Road. Unfortunately, the rebels were able to detect the movement. Identifying his old foe and eager for a rematch, Jackson asked to lead a night attack against Doubleday. Guided by a soldier who knew of an old track that had been used to move charcoal, Jackson’s soldiers advanced. Then, as they walked through the path they ran into Doubleday’s men, who apparently were just as surprised to find them there. A battle then started once the troops got over their confusion.

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    The Battle of Mine Run

    What had happened? Turns out that one of Doubleday’s soldiers was a former Virginia slave who had once helped haul coal through that path, and he had suggested to use it to surprise the rebels and seize the Orange Plank. The USCT and the Stonewall Brigade now faced each other for the second time. But this time, the advantage was on the rebel side, though the Black soldiers made sure to make the rebels pay for every meter they took. Reynolds and Lee promptly became aware of the extent of the battle, but Longstreet was faster and the USCT was finally pushed out. An attempt to follow this by an assault failed when the Southern troops were massacred by Union artillery fired from Hazel Groove – the only place within the Wilderness where artillery was effective.

    Thus ended the second day of the Battle of Mine Run. At the same time as the Wilderness drama, a second column led by Generals Sedgwick and French was unable to overtake the rebel position at Tom Morris House, though they got closer to the Mine Run than the main column had managed. The third day was marked by smaller scale battles as Reynolds debated whether he should retreat. He had half a mind to turn south toward Spotsylvania, thus escaping the Wilderness and arriving to another route through which he could reach the Mine Run. But even if he succeeded in this endeavor, it was doubtful that his exhausted and bloodied troops would be able to carry the rebel line. Moreover, he had spent almost all his supplies – and the logistical inadequacy of the Orange and Alexandria Railroad meant that he couldn’t bring any more.

    Several of his generals recommended retreating and trying again through another route that would allow them to face Lee in more favorable terrain. Swayed by their advice, and preoccupied by the health of his weary troops, Reynolds started to retreat. Lee did try a final attack at the Wilderness Tavern, but it was repulsed, and afterwards the Yankees crossed the Rapidan, reunited, and then retreated to winter quarters at Brandy Station. Recognizing the sorry state of his troops, Lee refused to pursue, and campaigning in Virginia came to an end for 1863. This decision to break off combat, seemingly out of mutual consent, was uncharacteristic for these two aggressive generals, but maybe it can be explained by the simply unspeakable nature of the carnage. Reviewing the battle, Secretary Stanton declared it “the bloodiest swath ever made on this globe”, while Reynolds declared that “more desperate fighting has not been witnessed on this continent.”

    If Union Mills was war at its most glorious, Mine Run was war at its bloodiest and ugliest form. The Union suffered around 23,000 casualties, while the rebels suffered 17,000. Many of these men had died incinerated or in brutal, terrifying fighting, leading many to suspect that the simple shock of this kind of warfare was what forced the commanders to end the battle. Despite this bloodshed, the Battle of Mine Run was inconclusive and had seemingly accomplished nothing except deaths and wounds both psychological and physical. Being a failure for both sides, it caused neither elation nor despair, only bitterness and disappointment. At the end of the day, and despite its reputation as one of the bloodiest and most terrible battles of the war, Mine Run had no great strategic or political consequences.

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    Burning woods at the Wilderness

    And thus ended the military campaigns of 1863, which seemed downright anti-climatic taking into account the dramatic and emblematic campaigns of the first half of the year. Small victories and the repulsion of Reynolds had managed to restore a little of the rebels’ confidence, and many within the Union could not help feeling bitter as they realized that the war would still rage on. But in spite of this, the prevailing mood was still confidence and optimism in the North, and quiet despair in the South, something that the fall elections of 1863 in both sections would prove. These elections, maybe more important than the 1862 midterms, would be the most astounding sign of the deep divisions that affected the Confederacy. They would also represent the start of a true policy of Reconstruction for the North.
     
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    Chapter 42: And Down with the Power of the Despot!
  • Though the failure to defeat the rebels at Mine Run and Dalton prevented the Union from bringing the war to a close in the later half of 1863, these battles could hardly dim the glory of the “great trinity” of victories: Lexington, Liberty and Union Mills. Thanks to them, the Lincoln administration seemed secure in the war issue, with its opponents in shambles, routed politically and psychologically after the traumatic Month of Blood and the ensuing repression. Just a few months ago, it had seemed like several Northern governorships could fall into Copperhead hands, dealing the Union cause a hard blow it possibly could not recuperate from. Now, no one doubted that victory would shortly come, and consequently the Republicans, both at a national and state level, decided to start the work of Reconstruction.

    The Republicans’ will and confidence was reinforced by the results of the 1863 elections, namely, their triumphs in Ohio and Pennsylvania. Previous to Union Mills, National Union conventions had named Clement Vallandigham as their candidate for Ohio governor. As the leader of the increasingly powerful Copperhead wing of the party, Vallandigham naturally conducted a pro-peace campaign that called for an immediate end to the war. The Copperhead candidate in Pennsylvania, state supreme court judge George W. Woodward, was less outspoken about his views, but these were just as outrageous as Vallandigham’s to Union men. Not only did Woodward believe that an armistice was the only way to secure reunion, he also had authored a judicial decision that had declared the draft unconstitutional, and, privately, had called slavery a blessing and said that he wished Pennsylvania had joined the Confederacy.

    Woodward and Vallandigham’s views were no longer acceptable after Union Mills had reinvigorated the Union cause, and especially after the Month of Blood brought terrible opprobrium and punishment upon the opponents of the war, whether they were guilty or not. Vallandigham, who had conspired with rebel agents and acted as a “wily agitator” that encouraged desertion and sedition, was certainly guilty. Woodward, not so much. Still, both men had to flee the nation, Vallandigham running to Canada after a military tribunal indicted him, and Woodward deciding to tour Europe, citing health reasons but confessing privately that he feared “being tarred and feathered, or worse, by the abolition mob”. Woodward’s fears were not entirely unjustified, as in the aftermath of the Month of Blood many Copperheads were targeted for abuse or even assassinated.

    The flight of their most prominent leaders and the attacks and abuse their rank and file received meant that the Chesnut organizations were practically destroyed in several areas and even in entire states, paving the way for complete Republican dominance. Even War Chesnuts were reluctant to continue being members of a party “that had revealed itself to be a hidden rebel army”. This did not necessarily mean switching to support the Republicans, who were regarded as equally, if not more, extreme. But it did mean that War Chesnuts abandoned the party in increasing numbers, unwilling to support peace and oppose the administration if that signified support for rebellion and massacre. If blood spilled in far way Kansas could be ignored and guerrillas in Tennessee dismissed, the gory scenes of New York could never be forgotten. Whether to save themselves or out of principle, War Chesnuts deflected from the National Union, leaving it a hollow and feeble organization.

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    George Washington Woodward

    In some states, the War Chesnuts attempted to create their own organizations in order to continue their opposition to the Lincoln administration’s aims but not to the war itself. However, the very idea of a loyal opposition had been destroyed by the month of blood. At the start of the July session, Stevens already pleaded with his colleagues not to admit the “hissing copper-heads . . . until their clothes are dried, and until they give back the grey uniforms John Breckinridge smuggled into New York and Baltimore. I do not wish to sit side by side with men whose garments smell of the blood of my kindred.” Heeding Stevens’ advice “for perhaps the first time but certainly not the last” as a radical newspaper said gleefully, the Congress expulsed some lawmakers “notorious for their sympathies for treason and butchery”. It never became a complete purge due to Lincoln and the moderates’ objections, but it strengthened the Republican supermajorities and created a mood of prevailing radicalism that helped along in the passage of the Third Confiscation Act.

    This coup de main against Chesnut power at the Federal level had its repercussions at the state level too, as the party found itself void of leadership and clear objectives. As the campaign developed, their greatest flaw, their inability to form a coherent message, came to the forefront again, as different factions struggled for power with perhaps more animosity and bitterness than they showed the Republicans. In Ohio, Vallandigham continued his quixotic campaign for governor from his exile in Canada, this despite the attempts of both War Chesnuts and Copperheads to replace him with another candidate. In Pennsylvania, no less than four other candidates threw their hats into the ring, coming from such parties as Constitutional Re-Union, American, Liberty, and Constitutional Union. Alongside Woodward’s still standing National Union candidacy, the result was a grand total of 5 politicos of Democratic origin against the candidate of the united Republican Party.

    “Our party is shamefully divided”, despaired a Chesnut voter in Pennsylvania. “The petty struggles of petty men assure our defeat before the tyrant.” But even if petty struggles weren’t enough to assure the Chesnuts’ defeat, several paramilitary groups were ready to take extralegal or even illegal measures to do so. Though they sometimes called themselves Wide-Awakes as a call-back to the 1860 election, the name most commonly claimed by these new clubs was “Union League”. They first appeared in the 1862 elections, where they were little more than Republican debate clubs and printing societies. But as the war radicalized and especially following the Month of Blood, the Union Leagues took a more assertive course. They never became guerrillas or were as brutal as Chesnuts said they were, but they certainly weren’t above using violence or intimidation against the enemies of the government, who were widely seen as just traitors instead of a legitimate opposition.

    Similar to how the Confederate guerrillas are the predecessors of the Ku Klux Klan and other terrorist organizations that sought to overturn the new Southern order during Reconstruction, the war-time Union League was the forerunner of several paramilitaries that operated in both North and South with the aim of stamping out disloyalty and defending the gains of the war. Sometimes preserving the Union League name, sometimes changing it to Equal Rights Association or similar, the Southern Union Leagues of Reconstruction were far more radical in methods and objectives, which is explained by the brutality of their foes. Even more moderate political organizations, such as the Union veterans’ Grand Army of the Republic, were profoundly influenced by the Union League, which informed their determination to defend the new order by any means necessary.

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    The Union Leagues would face terrorist organizations like the Klan during Reconstruction

    Several Republican leaders, both during the war and after it, lamented the methods of the Union League. Lincoln himself appealed to their “love for democracy and respect for the Constitution” to try and quiet down overt violence. But Lincoln and other Republican authorities proved unwilling to actually take hard measures against them, because even if their methods were misguided, they agreed with their objectives. The “ghost of old John Brown” seemed to manifest once again, as Republicans took an aptitude similar to the one they had once taken towards that abolitionist warrior: condemning the violence, but lauding it as brave and just. Consequently, even as Republican military and state authorities brought their power to bear against the Sons of Liberty and similar Copperhead associations, the Union League was allowed to guard voting stations, intimidate Chesnut politicians, and even assault particularly outspoken Copperheads. The Republicans, a Chesnut voter wrote in anguish, had “inoculated the general mind with ideas which involve . . . the acquiescence of the community in any measures that may be adopted against the National Union.”

    The tacit acceptance of these events by the Lincoln administration came partly from the knowledge of how pivotal the fall elections were. With the process of Reconstruction starting in the Border and the Deep South, and the ink of the radical Third Confiscation Act still fresh, the President and his party wished for a vote of confidence before pressing onward with their objectives. They also believed that such a show of unity and political power was needed to break the Southern spirit and convince the Northern people that they had to fight for unconditional victory. “All the instant questions will be settled by the coming elections,” commented a Lincoln supporter. “If they go for the Rebel party, then Mr. Lincoln will not wind up the war [and] a new feeling and spirit will inspire the South.”

    As was customary, Lincoln did not campaign actively, though he and his government took measures to aid the Republican campaigns. In Kentucky, for example, the military authorities, together with the radicals that had taken over the state government following Bragg’s campaign and the Month of Blood, arrested thousands of Chesnut candidates and voters, helping secure the victory of the candidate backed by the administration. Soldiers were furloughed and rushed to Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois and other states to vote the Republican ticket, and Secretary Chase rallied financiers who had made their wealth through government contracts into helping the Republican candidates. While the President could hardly believe that “one genuine American would, or could be induced to, vote for such a man as Vallandigham”, the threat of Copperhead victory was palpable enough for him to overlook the Union League’s actions and aid in these improper, if not illegal, maneuvers.

    The clear opposition of the administration and the Union Leagues, and the fatal internal divisions that affected the party, already stacked the odds against the National Union. But even without these factors they would have found it difficult to win the election, for their “tried and true issues” had lost their luster. In vain did Chesnuts try to rally their votes to cries of “let every vote count in favor of the white man, and against the Abolition hordes, who would place negro children in your schools, negro jurors in your jury boxes and negro votes in your ballot boxes!” In the aftermath of Union Mills, and with Black soldiers having also fought gallantly at Liberty and Mine Run, such overt racism seemed unpatriotic. Loyal publication societies and local chapters of the Republican party distributed pamphlets contrasting “the gallant colored soldiers of the Miracle at Manchester” with the “cowardly white traitors of the Massacre at Manhattan”. In a brilliant propaganda coup, a Republican speaker in Pennsylvania campaigned with a Black soldier that had lost his leg at Union Mills, yelling “he gave his leg for your liberty! Won’t you give your ballot for his?” “Campaigning with a Negro”, a Republican voter said in awe, “would have been political suicide a mere year ago . . . these are signs of great change.”

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    Copperheads were reviled as traitors and supporters of the rebellion.

    Other Chesnut issues likewise lost their potency during the 1863 campaign. Speeches against martial law and military tribunals, which had sought to portray them as unnecessary and unconstitutional, now seemed weak and duplicitous when the Month of Blood had proved that Lincoln was right, that there was a fifth column of Confederate sympathizers in the North. Attacks against conscription fell flat, and appeals for peace, now presented as an effort to end the war sooner by offering the already defeated Confederates an opportunity to surrender honorably, were ineffective. Not even the reversals at Dalton and Mine Run were capable of rescuing the Chesnuts from electoral disaster. Divided and attacked, the Chesnuts seemingly gave up towards the end of the campaign season, and the result was an overwhelming Republican triumph.

    In Ohio, the Republican candidate won with almost 70% of the votes, while Vallandigham achieved less than 15%, other Chesnut candidates taking the rest. As Secretary Chase happily said, Vallandigham’s defeat was “complete, beyond all hopes”. In Pennsylvania, Governor Curtin was reelected triumphantly with over 60% of the vote, Curtin informing Lincoln that “Pennsylvania stands by you, keeping step with Maine and California to the music of the Union.” And Republicans took supermajorities in the New York legislative elections. Even the Chicago Tribune, a pro-Union journal that was nonetheless highly critical of Lincoln, now called him “the most popular man in the United States” and predicted that if an election were held right then “Old Abe would . . . walk over the course, without a competitor to dispute with him the great prize which his masterly ability, no less than his undoubted patriotism and unimpeachable honesty, have won.”

    Republicans and Chesnuts alike interpreted the elections as an endorsement of emancipation and a war for Union and Liberty till complete victory was achieved. “There is little doubt that the voice of a majority would have been against” the Emancipation Proclamation when it was first issued, a Springfield newspaper commented. “And yet not a year has passed before it is approved by an overwhelming majority”. A New York Republican was awed by “the change of opinion on this slavery question . . . is a great and historic fact . . . Who could have predicted . . . this great and blessed revolution? . . . God pardon our blindness of three years ago.” Buoyed by this success, Republicans started to entertain plans for Reconstruction, though the initiative was taken by those in the Border States, specifically, the Marylanders.

    Maryland’s unique position as a state with a significant White Unionist element that had been liberated relatively fast by the Federal Army seemed to make it a perfect ground for a “rehearsal for Reconstruction”. However, the state had been devastated by continuous campaigning and several important battles, including Anacostia, Frederick and Union Mills. Fortunately for the Unionists of the state, most of the devastation had been inflicted against the Chesapeake counties that were the base of the slaveholders’ political and economic power in the antebellum. The presence of the Union Army, the mobilization of its sizeable Free Black community, and abolitionist feelings among its white inhabitants contributed to the undoing of slavery as a viable institution in Maryland. By 1863, most Marylanders had concluded that slavery was dead and that new classes of people had to be brought to power, but as in the rest of the South there were sharp disagreements over how slavery was to be liquidated and what role, if any, Black people were to play in the new order.

    Maryland’s transformation was punctuated by the help of many Northern politicians and activists that came to the state as “heralds of Yankee culture” that sought to aid it in its transition to free labor. Reformers of an idealistic stripe known as the “Gideonites”, these emissaries brought with them new ideas and a genuine desire to uplift the freedmen and help along in their education and progress. They were most influential in the South Carolina sea islands, where an experiment in black land ownership was being conducted, though their power, both there and in Maryland, was limited when compared with Treasury officials and army officers. Nonetheless, the Gideonites gathered great publicity around their efforts, which helped promote the redistribution of land to the former slaves and encourage the growth of a Republican Party in Maryland.

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    Andrew Curtin

    Leading the Maryland radicals was Henry Winter Davis, a representative that bitterly opposed Lincoln because the President had sustained his enemies in the Blair clan, though Davis was somewhat mollified when the Blairs broke with the administration in the aftermath of the Emancipation Proclamation. When a Constitutional Convention was called early in 1863 after the victory at Anacostia seemed to secure the state once and for all, Radicals swept to power, partly aided by the memory of the recent campaign, partly by loyalty oaths administered by the military. The main concern of the Convention was abolition, and, although some conservative Unionists insisted on compensated emancipation, Davis and his men stood firm, declaring that “their compensation is the cleared lands of all Southern Maryland, where every thing that smiles and blossoms is the work of the negro that they tore from Africa.” Immediate, uncompensated emancipation was enacted.

    Aside from abolition, the Convention took several progressive steps, aimed at breaking the power of the old planter aristocracy and install in Maryland a system of free labor. Public education was established for the first time, along with progressive taxation and protections against seizure for debt to benefit poor yeomen. But the big question of the era was what was to be done with the enslaved, now freedmen. Though some delegated disclaimed “any sympathy with negro equality”, Davis and his radicals moved to incorporate at least some form of Black suffrage within the state constitution, which arose “such terrible cries” from the conservatives that it had to be removed lest the whole Unionist party collapse.

    As the Convention closed with cheers for the “new and regenerated Maryland”, a disgusted Radical declared that none of its work had “been from high principle, … but party spirit, vengeful feeling against disloyal slaveholders, and regard for material interest. There has been no expression, at least in this community, of regard for the negro—for human rights. But even as they were defeated, the radicals could see some glimmers of hope, in that the Convention had decreed equal access to the courts and the law system and abolished the apprenticeship system that bound black minors to white adults, without the consent of their parents, as a half-way to preserve slavery. “We were defeated in the battle for political equality”, Davis admitted gloomily, “but the right triumphed in the battle for civil equality. There is still hope that we may carry this issue to victory in the next great struggle.”

    The next battle came sooner than Davis and the radicals could have expected or hoped. Two events aided in this development. First, the rebel victory at Bull Run and the expectative that they could invade Maryland resuscitated pro-Confederate sentiments in Maryland and led the new constitution to defeat. This despite the efforts of the Convention to prevent the disloyal from voting by requiring loyalty oaths and disenfranchising those who had expressed even a mere “desire” for the Confederacy to triumph. But just a month afterwards, the Confederates invaded. The attempt of some Annapolis delegates, some of whom had served as conservative members of the Convention, to throw their lot in with the Confederacy, and the gory riots in Baltimore discredited the conservative Unionists, and, as in the North, made all Republicans identify opposition to their goals as opposition to the war and thus treason. As the dust settled in a Baltimore covered in blood and news arrived of the USCT’s decisive role in Union Mills, Marylanders recognized that a new era had dawned in Maryland.

    A second Convention was called, and the Radical victory was even more overwhelming this time. Conservative attempts to portray this effort as one in favor of “free-loveism, communism, agrarianism” failed, and when the Convention assembled the first item in the agenda was not abolition, but black suffrage. Though some Unionist still hoped that they could hold into power through disenfranchisement, and new such measures were indeed enacted, conversation shifted towards giving the franchise to Black Marylanders, who represented 20% of the state’s population. However, even in the aftermath of Union Mills there were many who were not ready for such a momentous step. Acrimonious debate followed, punctuated by racist appeals on one side and politically-motivated praise for the USCT on the other.

    At the end, the radicals only managed to achieve limited Black suffrage, for veterans of the Union Army and the literate. But even this limited victory was a great triumph, for, as one delegate admitted “no sane, sober man could have ever predicted that a Southern state would ever give the suffrage to the Negro.” Furthermore, Maryland had furnished a large number of Black soldiers to the Union Army, up to 50% of the eligible Black males, and literacy was higher among its free Black population than in other African American communities. Coupled with this provision was a change in the basis of representation, which would only count voters instead of the entire population – which weakened the plantation counties and made it so that disenfranchisement would only weaken them even more.

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    The Maryland Constitutional Convention was profoundly influential as a "blueprint" for Reconstruction

    Despite widespread disenfranchisement, the new constitution was not sure to pass, because many loyal voters were opposed to “nigger government.” But the ballot was not their only weapon. Armed groups of whites attacked the polling stations where veteran soldiers were casting their first votes, murdering several. Veterans of Union Mills, “the gallant braves who saved our state from rebel rule”, were among those slain. White Unionists were also intimidated, and in a preview of things to come a group of pro-Confederate men started a riot in Frederick that had to be gorily put down by the Federal Army. But this attempt to prevent the Reconstruction of Maryland only resulted in a stronger commitment to its realization on the part of the Union authorities. Lincoln thus suspended the writ of habeas corpus, decreed that those found under arms should be tried as guerrillas, and allowed several Union Leagues to pay the rebels with the same coin. The result was that many people sympathetic to the Confederacy, or suspected of being so, were intimidated or even murdered. Unionists accepted this, saying that “even the most worthless negro is more deserving than a reb", of both the ballot and life itself.

    The new constitution was thus approved early in 1864, aided by new disenfranchising provisions and the campaign of intimidation led by the Union Army, and the Union Leagues, by then basically the paramilitaries of the Republican Party. Black veterans, despite hurdles and danger, came out and voted in great numbers, a fact that, a conservative delegate said, “had raised the spirit of old Roger Taney and made his howls heard all over the land.” At the end, the controversial constitution passed by a mere 589 votes, a victory owed to the Black voters who had so enthusiastically endorsed it. But it was also owed to violent repression, leading to never-ending debates over the legitimacy of the referendum and whether the ends justified the noble means. For Republicans, the answer was an unambiguous yes. Nonetheless, the fact that even after employing all these methods the victory was a close one underscored the inherent weakness of the new Republican regime and the resistance of White Southerners to these astounding changes. But these apprehensions were lost among the chorus of jubilant celebrations. Lincoln himself extended his congratulations to “Maryland, and the nation, and the world, upon the event”, and said that “it gratifies me that those who have served gallantly in our ranks are free to vote”.

    The Maryland Constitution also had an effect in the rest of the Border South, inspiring the Republicans in those states to take more Radical measures. Their success was limited in Delaware and Kentucky, where old elites retained their grip in power and there were few radical leaders or great events to push them towards change. By contrast, Missouri went in some ways farther than Maryland had done. There, the bloody civil war that raged along the border with Kansas and a large population of abolitionist German immigrants resulted in a particularly strong Republican Party that was greatly embittered against the rebels. What Lincoln called a “pestilent factional quarrel” had divided the state’s Unionists and prevented the enactment of changes, creating two factions, the radical “Charcoals” and the moderate “Claybanks”. Though he sympathized with the Claybanks, Lincoln could not tolerate their willingness to ally with former Confederates in the pursue of political power, and the President would end up backing the radicals because, although they were “the unhandiest devils in the world to deal with”, they were “absolutely uncorrosive by the virus of secession” and had “their faces set Zionwards.”

    The President’s support for the Radicals was increased by his break with the Blair clan, which remained influential in Missouri. Still, Lincoln was unwilling to back radical measures, warning that a slave state was like a man with “an excrescence on the back of his neck, the removal of which, in one operation, would result in the death of the patient, while ‘tinkering it off by degrees’ would preserve life.” Helped along by the radical General Curtis, the state’s Unionist, including such leaders as Charles Drake and B. Gratz Brown, started a virtual revolution. When a state Constitutional Convention finally met in middle 1864, it enacted immediate, uncompensated emancipation, mandated black civil equality, and coupled limited Black suffrage with widespread disenfranchisement of former Confederates. At its most extreme, Missouri required loyalty oaths even for teachers, lawyers and ministers and enacted a confiscation plan to redistribute land to the freedmen – a disposition made even more radical by the fact that Black landowners could vote even if illiterate.

    In due time, Radicals like Davis, who had “cried like a child when the joyous news arrived”, came to see the achievements of the Maryland and Missouri Constitutional Conventions as not being enough. Radicals left limited suffrage and limited equality aside in favor of universal suffrage and complete equality, and a more vigorous intervention in favor of land redistribution and economic change was stressed. Maryland’s failure to extend education, land and economic opportunities came under attack, while the freedmen, expected to be passive workers whose only involvement in politics was casting Republican ballots when needed, proved to be unexpectedly militant. Alongside the increasing popularity of Black suffrage, even limited one, among Northern Republican circles, these events would define the nascent process of Reconstruction in the Deep South. Republican jubilation was only increased by the Confederacy’s own fall elections, which showed the despair that had overtaken many Confederates and seemed to presage a collapse in their will to continue the war.

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    After Union Mills, Union propaganda shifted towards a more egalitarian and explicitly pro-abolition message

    Lincoln, in a certain sense, had been extremely lucky with the timing of the Northern elections. The 1862 midterms took place when McClellan was at Richmond’s doorstep, and the 1863 elections happened when the glory of the great trinity of victories was still glowing. This led the Republicans to great victories in all these electoral contests. Breckinridge had no such luck. The 1863 Confederate elections took place when southern morale was at its lowest point, and the result was a severe rebuke to his administration. More worryingly, the elections showed an undercurrent of widespread dissatisfaction and even pro-peace sentiments. Hunger and battlefield defeats added fuel to the fire. “I have never actually despaired of the cause”, said a Richmond clerk, “priceless, holy as it is, but my faith .. . is yielding to a sense of hopelessness”.

    Discontentment at home also found expression within the ranks. Despite conscription, the Confederacy found it increasingly hard to maintain their ranks full, due to a high number of deserters, which, according to War Department numbers, constituted around a third of the entire Army. As Bruce Levine points out, not all deserters had necessarily lost faith in the cause. Rather, many returned to try and protect their families from violence and starvation. As a woman wrote to her son, “the time past has sufficed for public service, and that your own family may require yr protection and help as others are deciding.” Though “most soldiers away without leave eventually rejoined their units", these desertions, even if temporary, could still deprive the Confederate armies of manpower at critical times.

    Unfortunately for the rebels, not all deserters were like that. Some left because they had indeed decided that the war was hopeless. More problematic for the Confederate leadership was the extreme bitterness they expressed against planters and the rich. “The cruellty of the [rich] to the Soldiers famileys is the caus of thear deserting”, a semi-literate Alabamian wrote, and the numbers back this assertion. Throughout the Confederacy the number of deserters rose dramatically, most coming from the mountainous upcountry where support for the Confederacy was weak. Furthermore, a majority of deserters came from poor yeomen families. This combination of distaste for the war and class resentment transformed many deserters into Unionists. Though guerrillas and militias did their best to suppress these “rogues”, they were never entirely successful, the terror they inflicted only solidifying the allegiance of these men. “The condition of things in the mountain districts of North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama”, the assistant Secretary of War despaired, “menaces the existence of the Confederacy as fatally as either of the armies of the United States.”

    The resentment of poor farmers was compounded by the understandable belief that rich planters, for whose benefit the war had started, were simply not making the necessary sacrifices. A newspaper frankly admitted that the "material issues" of the war were "the interests of the planters", making it "eminently their war". But they still denied any right of the goverment to force them to give up their properties or human chattel to the Army. For Breckinridge this plain refusal to aid the war effort was unpatriotic, short-sighted and unfair. A Georgia Congressman for example criticized those who "give up their sons, husbands, brothers & friends, and often without murmuring, to the army; but let one of their negroes be taken, and what a houl you will hear." Responding to these criticisms, a furious Toombs argued that he and all planters would gladly lend their property as long as it was voluntarily. Their refusal was because the government was trying to force them, injuring their pride and violating their rights. "The solution", Bruce Levine summarizes, "lay not in making greater demands on masters but in making fewer", never mind that the planter aristocracy had never responded to softer measures and gentle requests before.

    The plainly seen fact that the rich planters were not matching their sacrifices to the cause with their wealth caused resentment against the planter class, the Confederacy, and the war to spread throughout the population and the Army. This critical situation made it seem likely that people in favor of peace could take control and surrender to the Union. But Breckinridge and his men were decided to prevent this. Though dispirited, the President still retained enough hope and vigor to campaign actively in favor of his men during the elections, a breach of custom that Breckinridge, however uncomfortable, thought necessary. Just a month after the defeat at Union Mills, the call for a convention of “patriotic men willing to support the President and the Army until the final victory is achieved and independence is secured” went out. Though Breckinridge disclaimed being behind it, his close allies were in charge and he certainly approved its actions. The Convention created a formal political party, the National Confederate Party, pledged to “the defense of the Confederacy till the last man of this generation falls in his tracks, and his children seize his musket and fight our battle”.

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    Many Confederates were threatened with nothing less than starvation

    The movement towards explicitly partisan politics alarmed many Confederates, who thought the lack of political parties a strength. But, as analysis by historians like James McPherson has showed, this actually was a source of weakness, for political parties allow the leaders of a country to canalize political energies and rally support for their policies. Thus, while the Republican Party was a firm support for Lincoln and his objectives, Breckinridge had had to contend with a bitter opposition without an organized base of support to resist it. The National Party was an attempt to create such a base, that could grant him the “political artillery” he needed to resist the expected backlash. Moreover, by gathering all his supporters into the Nationalist tent, Breckinridge created a clean and sharp division between those who supported him, independence and White Supremacy, and those who opposed his administration, and, ergo, were in favor of peace and submission to the Union with all its accompanying horrors – that is, slave emancipation and Black equality.

    In truth, peace sentiment in the Confederacy remained scattered and disorganized. This is one the ways that the absence of political parties helped the Confederacy, for while the National Union served as a vehicle of Copperhead agitation, there was no party for pro-peace men to take over in the South. A North Carolina woman who begged her governor to “try and stop this cruel war . . . For God sake to try and make peace on some terms and let they rest of the poor men come home and make somethin to eat [for] the sake of suffering humanity” was practically alone in such overt demands for peace. The Tory candidates who ran in opposition to the Breckinridge administration most of the time openly and repeatedly expressed their support for the war and slavery, insisting that their opposition was based in Breckinridge’s mismanagement and incompetency rather than a desire for peace.

    As in the North, the Confederate fall elections were marked by political chicanery and the violent repression of dissent. Confederate guerrillas terrorized supporters of peace, who concentrated in the mountainous upcountry that leaned towards Unionism. This transformed Western North Carolina and other areas like Northern Alabama into “bloody swathes, were terror and violence rule the day and not a day passes without a horrendous murder”. Breckinridge, also, employed expert political tactics. For example, the agents of hid Food Relief corps, that brought much needed supplies to struggling Confederate yeomen, always made sure to emphasize that the food came from him. Likewise, he, his wife and daughters paraded in Richmond dressed in homespun (leading to a popular but false legend that the song “The Homespun Dress” was composed in honor of Mrs. Breckinridge), and pro-administration newspapers carried news of how his sons fared in the battlefield, always mentioning how Lincoln’s son, Robert, was not serving the Union. Alongside the debacle of the Twenty Negro Law, and the perception that planters were not contributing their due to the war, this contributed to Breckinridge’s image as the champion of the struggling poor.

    Nonetheless, no propaganda could obscure the fact that the war was going badly for the Confederacy, and this translated into electoral defeat. Of 112 representatives, 34 were now explicitly against Breckinridge, while 8 of the 28 Senators were now members of the opposition. The defeat doesn’t seem that severe, as the Nationalists would keep comfortable majorities in both chambers, but this was owed to an “ironic anomaly”: the strong support of the Congressmen from the occupied states. Kentucky, Missouri, Maryland and Tennessee, all completely occupied by the Federal arms but still represented in Congress, returned men who were fierily in favor of the war. Likewise, from the occupied portions of Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi and Virginia, stalwart Nationalist were sent. No elections could take place there, so incumbents just remained in office or “were elected by a handful of refugees from their districts”. Naturally, they all supported war to the bitter end as the only way to liberate their states, providing “the votes for higher taxes that would not be levied on their constituents and for tougher conscription laws that would take no men from their districts”.

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    Mary Breckinridge, First Lady of the Confederate States

    In the rest of the Confederacy, the Tories swept to power, taking the Alabama and Mississippi governorships and a majority of the districts still under Confederate control, including 11 of the 19 congressmen of Georgia and North Carolina. It must be remarked again that these men still supported the war, but their Whig sympathies and “weak secessionist credentials” were ominous signs. Such signs abounded, indeed. In Texas, a hint of class conflict was observed when Pendleton Murrah won the governorship on a campaign that rallied against rich planters. In Georgia, Joseph E. Brown, who had denounced Breckinridge so bitterly and so often, showed that he was “a skillful political tightrope walker”, managing to portray himself as both a war supporter and a “paladin of states’ rights”. Despite attacks against him as an “oily flatterer of the masses”, he achieved a comfortable victory over his Nationalist opponent. But if the re-election of a Tory was bad enough, the 27% of ballots the peace candidate, Joshua Hill, gathered, was even worse, and spoke of great resentment in Georgia’s northern hills.

    Through the South, Breckinridge supporters were defeated by disaffected constituents, and replaced by men who were less enthusiastic to the war and outright opposed to many measures needed to win it, such as conscription and impressment. Alabama’s case is particularly revealing, for there the legislature replaced the deceased William L. Yancey, the famous fire-eater instrumental in achieving secession, with a man who had voted against secession. The results were owed to the curious coalition formed between planters and poor men, the only common thread being their opposition to the Richmond regime's policies - the planters believed Breckinridge was unconstitutionally asking them to make sacrifices, and the poor people believed he wasn't asking the planters enough. Happily for Breckinridge this is a shown of a lack of coherence and organization that weakened his enemies, but the losses were still keenly felt. Almost all of the defeated candidates believed they had been “stricken down for holding up the state to its high resolves and crowding the people to the performance of their duty.” As an Alabamian warned the government, these results showed a strong “feeling of doubt & distrust” and a “dissatisfaction of the people with their lawmakers”, caused in part by the alienation of “some poor men” who believed that “the war is killing up their sons & brothers for the protection of the slaveholder.”

    Only in North Carolina did the poor people’s discontentment blossom into open advocacy for peace. In that state, which had joined the Confederacy only reluctantly when pushed by Virginia’s secession, William Holden had been organizing a powerful, and to Breckinridge dangerous, pro-peace movement, which based its political strength in the Western part of the state, with few slaves and high resentment against slaveholders. Similarly to how Vallandigham colluded with rebel agents in the North, Holden colluded with Unionist guerrillas such as the Heroes of America, a group whose force was "augmenting their number every day". Attempts to root out these insurgents proved unsuccessful, for they intimidated or commanded the respect of many militiamen. One such cowed officer told Vance that "officers are sometimes shot by them and the community kept in terror". Despite his attempts to stamp out this armed insurgency, Vance found little success, "the popular sentiments" that sustained it remaining "as strong and widespread as ever". A forlorn Vance wrote to Joseph E. Brown that among North Carolina Confederates a "general despondency and gloom . . . prevails.”

    The political sympathies of these groups was made clear when the main Nationalist organ in the state, the Raleigh State Journal was destroyed by two hundred guerrilla fighters. As Holden readied for the next North Carolina governor’s election in the summer of 1864, it was clear that his was shaping up to be a reconstructionist campaign, that openly called for North Carolina to secede from the Confederacy and rejoin the Union. As a committed Confederate observed, in the many reunions Holden organized “the most treasonable language was uttered, and Union flags raised.” A Holden supporter even directly told Governor Vance that "we want this war stopped, we will take peace on any terms that are honorable. We would prefer our independence, if that were possible, but let us prefer reconstruction infinitely to subjugation.”

    By the end of 1863, and as the Confederacy recouped some confidence thanks to Mine Run and Dalton, Vance had decided that he needed to strike against Holden preventively. Holden’s “Conservative Party” had already secured the election of 5 congressmen who were in favor of peace, and for him to even run, Vance believed, would already be an unmitigated disaster. "I will see the Conservative party blown into a thousand atoms and Holden and his understrappers in hell,” Vance pledged. Breckinridge, for his part, was decided to aid Vance in his efforts to end Holden. The President had sensibly rejected a proposal by Vance of offering peace terms to Lincoln, in a Machiavellian scheme that might defuse the peace sentiment in the South when Lincoln inevitably rejected them, but, Breckinridge pointed out, it would also fatally demoralize the Confederates at home and the soldiers in the field by making it seem like the government was ready to surrender.

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    The North Carolina Standard was one of the most prominent pro-peace Newspapers

    Instead, Breckinridge brought his power to bear against Holden, sending two Army regiments to North Carolina, suspending habeas corpus, and authorizing the arrest of anyone who “uttered disloyal sentiments". Far more extreme was the reaction of the guerrillas and soldiers. Moved by Vance’s declarations that Holden’s plan would result in North Carolinians’ sons being drafted “to fight alongside of [Lincoln's] negro troops in exterminating the white men, women, and children of the South”, soldiers and militia organized a bloody counterattack to retake an upcountry that had seemed until then completely under the control of the Unionist guerrillas. To draw out the guerrillas, Confederate soldiers and militia made "hostages of women and children until husbands and fathers turned themselves in", or even resorted to outright torture. They destroyed Holden’s property, sacked his known pro-peace newspaper the Standard, threatened his life, and devastated the organization of the Conservative Party in Western North Carolina. Holden was finally forced to flee the state towards the Federal lines in Eastern Tennessee, which fatally wreaked the peace movement by apparently showing that all pro-peace men were Lincolnite pawns in favor of the often quite brutal Unionist guerrillas.

    The 1863 elections in the South had not destroyed Breckinridge’s grip on power and had showed that many Confederates remained committed to the cause. At the same time, they had demonstrated that there was widespread resentment against the war and the dominant classes of the South. If victories were not forthcoming, these resentments could result in an overwhelming peace movement. Seeking to earn the loyalty of White Southerners and finish the work of emancipation, and moreover inspired by the events in the Border South, Lincoln sent its annual message to Congress on December 8. In this message, a coherent, if not comprehensive, program for the Reconstruction of the Confederacy was articulated for the first time, creating the conditions for a new South when this cruel war is over.
     
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    Side-story: "A Mississippi Soldier"
  • A Mississippi Soldier

    Jordan Shaw marched around the perimeter of the contraband camp, holding his rifle tight against his breast. Shaw. It was still hard to think of himself as Jordan Shaw instead of Jordan Gardner, the slave of old massa Richard J. Gardner. But he didn’t want to remember that man, the man who had robbed him of his freedom and sold his daughter down the Mississippi even as he boasted of how he was kind to his Negroes. Well, now he had neither Negros nor land! All of the people he enslaved had been liberated by the Lincoln soldiers, and the Bureau had confiscated the plantation when old man Gardner failed to show up to prove his loyalty. Of course, Jordan smirked, he was a traitor so the result would have been the same either way.

    Jordan Shaw continued to walk around the camp. He had chosen Shaw as his new surname because it was the name of the colonel who led the Heroes of Union Mills. Doubleday, Lincoln and Reynolds were options too, but those names were too long and Jordan wanted something he could spell. More importantly, those gentlemen were alive. It felt correct to honor the Colonel’s sacrifice, so when the Yankee officer asked for his name, Jordan proudly said Jordan Shaw, not Jordan Gardner. Others still called themselves Gardner, others took new names as well – there was a wealth of Grants and Eatons in their camp. In their home.

    Maybe it was naïve to think that the Pleasance Plantation would become theirs. It had never felt like a home to Jordan, what with the whips and the overseers. But now, with schoolhouses for their children and payment for their labor, it finally felt like a home. Besides, weren’t they the ones who built it up with their labor? Weren’t they the ones who sweated under the sun and bled under the whip, planting the cotton and building the houses, while massa sat in the shadow and complained of their laziness? If they asked Jordan, massa was the lazy one! Giving them land was the least the Yankees could do, but maybe it was naïve to think that White men would try to do the Negro justice. But when he heard Mr. Lincoln’s speeches and declarations, and when he remembered Colonel Shaw’s noble spilt blood, Jordan could not help but have hope too.

    The sound of horses interrupted his musings. His sweat turned cold and his heart threatened to blast out of his chest. His legs carried him even if his mind was frozen in terror. The rebels were coming, he knew it. No Union cavalry would advance with such speed in the middle of the night. Jordan ran to the nearest outpost, and soon the alarm went forth. In minutes his regiment had assembled. Pride momentarily shone through the fear, as Sergeant Major Jordan Shaw saw his men, all in blue uniforms, all ready to lay down their lives. Captain Forbes came quickly too, and organized them to defend their home against the marauders.

    Yankee soldiers talked of seeing red mist when going into battle. When General Grant’s army had liberated his plantation, some of the soldiers chatted with the contrabands and told them of seeing the elephant at such glorious battles like Dover and Corinth. It was strange for the Union soldiers to be kind, even stranger for them to welcome Black soldiers into their armies. Only later did Jordan and the rest of the men learn about Union Mills, and that’s what had inspired them to ask for a blue uniform. Their regiment, the 24th Mississippi, US Colored Infantry, was posted in Pleasance to protect the plantation against rebel raiders, allowing White Yankees to go with Grant and take Vicksburg. As the cotton grew in the home-farms of Pleasance, Jordan and others could not help but being jealous of the Colored Soldiers that Grant had taken with him, because they too wanted to strike a blow for their freedom. Then came news of the Battle of Liberty, and instead of coming home covered in glory the survivors of McPherson’s USCT corps came home limping or in caskets.

    That hadn’t dissuaded Jordan. He still hoped to go into battle, but as days passed, as the children learned their letters and the women started to sing without fear, as news of Forrest’s bloodthirst and the massacres inflicted on other colored people arrived, Jordan and the rest concluded that they were needed more at home. Thank the Almighty for that, for Jordan was now sure they needed all the men they could get. How many rebels were there? A hundred? A thousand? How long would it take to reach the headquarters and bring in reinforcements? How many women and children would be murdered or kidnapped before those reinforcements arrived?

    The sight of the gray and the blood curling rebel yell stopped Jordan’s thoughts. He wondered briefly whether the Heroes of Union Mills had felt such terror when they faced the feared Stonewall. And then he saw red. Bullets poured out even though Jordan couldn’t remember reloading, and he thought of nothing but a desperate need to keep moving in order to keep living. James Grant fell bayoneted besides him (“do you think the Yankees will help us find our families?”, he had asked once while they drilled), but Jordan could not pause to feel horror or sadness when the murderer was still there. Jordan only saw red as he brandished his bayonet and pierced his heart.

    Finally, a cannon thundered, drowning out even the chilling rebel yells that had been resounding since the beginning of the battle. A small piece of artillery, all General Eaton could spare for Pleasance. The fire fell from the sky into the rebels that had retreated and regrouped (“He has loosed the fateful lightening of his terrible swift sword!”, as the Yankee song said) and scattered them again. Then the regiment went forward and the marauders had no choice but to retreat. Jordan still saw red when a second roar parted the skies and an explosion sent many rebels flying. It was only when they fled, screaming out of pain or out of fury, that the world came into color again. And with that horror came, as Jordan saw the burning buildings and corpses strewn around the camp.

    The next day he and Abe Jones cleaned the bodies. “This here is Dick Hinds”, Abe said, kicking a young man, not older than 18, who could have seemed to be peacefully sleeping if not for the red wound that covered his throat and had turned his gray uniform into a red and brown rag. “His father owned me. He was an angry man, but Dick Hinds was worse, oh yes”, Abe said as they lifted him and dropped him alongside a comrade. They did that because they knew nothing would offend the rebels more than being buried alongside the Colored troops that had bested them. “It would break Ol’ Missus’ heart to see her boy like this, oh yes it will. She had paid for a substitute, you sees, but Dick Hinds wanted to fight still.” Jordan just nodded, not really caring.

    They took another corpse. It was John Sumner, who had a little girl and two boys. How would Jordan explain to them that papa would not come back? “You know,” Abe started, “Massa Hinds was the sheriff here. I knows Massa Hinds fled when the Lincoln soldiers come, so we need a new sheriff. You think we could get someone who would do us coloreds justice?” “Maybe I’ll run”, Jordan mussed, and Abe laughed. Jordan did not blame him. They had given the Colored men the vote in Maryland, he knew, but thinking of Black sheriffs and Black legislators and Black congressmen seemed ridiculous. Then again, thinking of Black soldiers and Black free laborers would have seemed ridiculous just a couple of years ago. “Maybe I’ll run”, Jordan repeated, and this time Abe did not laugh. “I’ll vote for you and Mister Lincoln,” he said finally. Then they moved to the next corpse.

    The battle, which had seemed so terrible and so hard-fought, had actually only involved at most a hundred men on each side. It wasn’t worth mentioning to General Eaton, much less report to General Grant. They had lost 15 men and had 28 wounded; their blood had resulted in 22 corpses in gray. But, even if their battle hadn’t involved hundreds of thousands of men over hundreds of thousands of miles, Jordan knew that it was important, for without them instead of burying 15 men they would be burying 300 women and children. The schools of Pleasance would remain open, their children would remain with their mothers, their wives wouldn’t have to suffer under the whip. They still had their hopes and their futures, and it was because of Jordan the rest of the 24th Mississippi. Perhaps the Battle of Pleasance wasn’t as big as the Battle of Union Mills, but Jordan was still sure they were heroes too.
     
    Chapter 43: When This Cruel War is Over
  • After Confederate hopes of victory died in the quiet green hills of Union Mills, the eventual triumph of the Union seemed assured. Indeed, with all three main Southern armies on the retreat and the Union in control of the Mississippi, its own armies poised to strike at the vitals of the Confederacy, few doubted that the end of the war was in sight. “Peace does not appear so distant as it did”, Lincoln wrote in the fall of 1863. “I hope it will come soon, and come to stay; and so come as to be worth the keeping in all future time.” But whether that peace was worth keeping would depend largely on what form it took. The prospect of Northern victory opened many questions regarding the future of the United States, of how the government would deal with the rebel states and what place African Americans would occupy in the post-slavery South. “How will their freedom affect us?”, asked a Northern pamphleteer, as he pondered the great changes that war and emancipation would bring to the United States, a question that reflected the complex interrogatives that Reconstruction raised.

    Reconstruction, defined as the process by which the Union government would administer occupied territories during the war and reintegrate them into the Union after it, “began shortly after the fall of Washington”. Indeed, as the Union Army advanced into the South, it had to grapple with questions regarding how the liberated territories were to be ruled, what their relations to the National government were, and how to deal with their inhabitants, both Black and White. During the first year of the war, the Union’s leaders were more preoccupied with whether they could win the war at all, and most of their anti-slavery measures were tentative, certainly not enough to effectuate a complete revolution in the Southern states. Then, the Emancipation Proclamation forever closed the possibility of the war resulting in the Union as it was. It established that from the flames of war a society free of slavery would emerge. But in doing so, the Proclamation also “unleashed a dynamic debate over the meaning of American freedom and the definition and entitlements of American citizenship”.

    The question of Reconstruction reached into all the aspects of American life, in both North and South. The “peculiar institution” was not a mere aspect of the South, but the cornerstone of its economy and the basis of its social and political system. Slavery created a socio-political system that deposited most power in the hands of the planter elite, which in turn used its political and social influence to maintain and expand slavery. Even outside of the South, the “Slave Power” had profoundly influenced American life, contributing to the North’s industrialization, creating deep prejudices against Black Americans in Yankees, and maintaining a national political system that gave undue influence to pro-slavery Southerners. Slavery was not incidental to the war, but rather caused it directly, for the rise of the Republican Party and the election of Abraham Lincoln represented a threat to this influence and consequently to slavery itself. The end of slavery was then sure to bring revolutionary changes, not just to labor relations in the South, but to the entire economic, political, cultural and social fabric of the entire United States.

    Reconstructing the South thus entailed more than simply outlawing slavery and declaring Black people free. At least, that was the conviction held by most Republicans. The painful experience of war had taught them “that the pieces of the old Union could not be cobbled together”. Slavery, it was agreed, was at an end; the prominent role the architects of secession had played in national politics was over as well. But Radicals and Moderates disagreed on the substance of reconstruction, that is, how far the process would go, which people would take control in the post-war regime, and what role Black people would play in the political and social life of this new South. Likewise, there were disagreements over how Reconstruction would work in practical terms, meaning how the former Confederacy would be reintegrated into the Union, under which and whose terms. Behind all these concerns, the overreaching interrogative was how slavery’s end would redefine American freedom. Debate over the meaning of freedom, the definition of citizenship and the very nature of the Federal government and its relation to the states started like never before since the nation’s founding, as Republicans grappled with these complex questions.

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    The question of Reconstruction increasingly came to be associated with the future of the freedmen

    By the end of 1863, all Republicans agreed that slavery had to be abolished, and that Black people would be forever free. But how slavery was to be destroyed was a practical question that still troubled Republicans more than a year after the Emancipation Proclamation. Hundreds of thousands of slaves had already been freed by the Union Army, but military emancipation proved to be an imperfect instrument for the liberation of millions. The Confederacy was “by far the largest slave society in the world, possibly the largest in the history of the world”, with over four million slaves, twice the number of Brazil or even Rome at its height. Three years of bloody campaigning had pushed the Confederates to the brink, but large sections of its enormous expanse remained untouched by the hard hand of war, the Black people there still enslaved. Around 15% of the South’s slaves had been freed by the Army by 1864. Though this was a significant number, the great majority of slaves remained on the plantation, be it because they couldn’t reach the Yankees or due to Confederate threats and violence.

    Furthermore, though Republicans believed and decreed that liberated slaves would be “forever free”, the Proclamation by itself could not assure that their freedom would be indeed enduring. Once the fighting stopped the freedmen would be under risk of violence or even re-enslavement, and even though the Union had decided that it had a responsibility to protect them from these threats, how this protection was to be effectuated had to still be decided. Within this context, military emancipation proved woefully inadequate. As James Oakes puts it, military emancipation “was brutal. It would not free all the slaves. And it might not free any of them forever”. The Three Bureaus, of Land, Freedmen, and Labor, had been created to address this problem and offer protection and guidance to the freedmen on their transition from slavery to freedom. But they were conceived as temporary solutions. Black people’s freedom could only be rendered lasting and meaningful by a successful Reconstruction, a process that necessarily required a firmer legal and practical basis given through Federal action.

    The Third Confiscation Act had seemingly settled the issue by disposing that the land confiscated from traitors would be given to the loyal freedmen, thus creating a Black yeomanry that would enjoy economic independence and equal opportunities for advancement. But the practical social and economic consequences of land redistribution were nothing less than revolutionary. Slavery, it must be emphasized, was “first and foremost, a system of labor”. Its end “opens a vast and most difficult subject”, the New York Times admitted, for the organization of land and labor in the post-war South would be the basis of its politics, economics and society, just as slavery had been in the ante-bellum. “Will the Negro work?”, was the “question of the age”, said a former Louisiana sugar planter, a question that reveals the profound disagreements and anxieties that affected all sectors of society, as Army officers, Bureau agents, Republican lawmakers, Unionist Conservatives, the Black community and Radical activists all struggled to set the limits, objectives and scope of the Reconstruction process.

    Outside of the most conservative Northerners, there was an agreement that the power, land and even citizenship of the Confederate leaders would be permanently taken away. Wade Hampton, the South’s richest man and now a Confederate general, would certainly “not retain his land, even if he retains his head”, announced Owen Lovejoy, a Radical Senator and a close Lincoln ally. But Lincoln and other Moderates hoped for a lenient Reconstruction that included recanting Southerners, and for that reason they were open to the restitution of property and their participation in the political process. Excluding poor White Southerners from confiscation and including them in the process of Reconstruction, they argued, would divide the White South, while an indiscriminate enforcement would create a united bloc of resistance that would “fight the national government until the land was barren of life, and flooded with blood. Would you care to see scenes like those of New York in every Southern city and village?”. Furthermore, limiting confiscation and punishment to the Confederate leadership would still yield great tracks of land, since most large landowners were also enthusiastic secessionists.

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    The properties of the most prominent Confederates was quickly confiscated, such as Lee's plantation in Arlington, which included a section reserved for Black soldiers

    However, on the left the Radical Republicans naturally pushed forward for a more extensive enforcement of the Third Confiscation Act. “Not a single foot of land” had to remain in rebel hands, insisted Stevens. Reconstruction had to “revolutionize Southern institutions, habits, and manners . . . The foundation of their institutions . . . must be broken up and relaid, or all our blood and treasure have been spent in vain.” Stevens’ rhetoric reveals that aside from humanitarian concern for the freedmen, Radicals supported confiscation as a way to complete the destruction of the old Southern order. “The war can be ended only by annihilating that Oligarchy which formed and rules the South and makes the war—by annihilating a state of society”, said the veteran abolitionist Wendell Philipps, who insisted that a Reconstruction without extensive confiscation and disenfranchisement would leave the “large landed proprietors of the South still to domineer over its politics, and makes the negro's freedom a mere sham.”

    Confiscation, then, was a necessary part of Reconstruction if slavery and the social system it established were to be truly destroyed. Otherwise, the freedmen would just become landless serfs, still subject to the authority and power of the old planter aristocracy, a situation “more galling than slavery itself” according to George Julian. Within this context, freedom was defined by Radicals in terms similar to those Jefferson had once employed: men free to chart their own destiny thanks to the economic independence land ownership afforded them. In principle, Lincoln and the moderates agreed with Radical philosophies. That’s why they had approved of the Third Confiscation Act after all. But instead of a Revolution, the Moderates envisioned Reconstruction as a practical problem to be solved. The rebel States, Lincoln said, were “out of their proper practical relation with the Union; and the sole object of the government . . . is to again get them into that proper practical relation.” Reconstruction, under this view, was about finding the best way of restoring the Confederacy to that “proper practical relation”.

    That’s why Lincoln thought that these debates about the substance of Reconstruction were “pernicious abstractions”, and that to ponder whether “the seceded States, so called, are in the Union or out of it” was “merely a metaphysical question”. Lincoln fully understood that these arguments could result in radically different visions for Reconstruction, but the President felt that he had the duty and power to act to reconstruct the South without needing to wait until Congress settled on a policy. Here, Lincoln’s political objectives converged with his military responsibilities, for he also saw in Reconstruction a chance to weaken and defeat the Confederacy. Thus, while Congress debated, Lincoln exercised his “inherent advantage over Congress in time of war”, by appointing military governors to rule in the areas of Tennessee, Louisiana and Arkansas that came under Union control. These governors would have to grapple not just with guerrilla warfare and discontent populations, but also with the duty of enforcing Congressional directives and Executive proposals. In this regard, one of their greatest challenges was the question of land and labor.

    Land and labor, as examined previously, was hotly debated throughout the North, as much in Congress as in newspapers and town halls. But the question was thornier and much more difficult in the South, where Army officers and Bureau agents had to oversee the freedmen’s transition to free labor at the same time as they continued to fight the war. It’s here, too, that the disadvantages of military emancipation became more evident, for the liberation of thousands of slaves created a giant humanitarian crisis even if they constituted a relatively low percentage of the total enslaved population. And finally, it was in their dealings with the freedmen that the military authorities, and through them the entire North, learned of the Black community’s unexpected militancy and own vision for the future. All these factors intersected and shaped the establishment of free labor in the occupied South.

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    Northern authorities were often surprised by the discovery that Black people had their own agendas and aspirations regarding the post-war world

    The first “rehearsals for Reconstruction” took place in the South Carolina Sea Islands. The unusual characteristics of slavery in that area, including allowing the enslaved to organize their own labor and even own property, created unique perspectives and aspirations within the 10,000 slaves who had been left when the White population fled after the Union took the islands. They mostly hoped to “chart their own path to free labor”, but with the Yankee soldiers came also “a white host from the North – military officers, Treasury agents, Northern investors and a squad of young teachers and missionaries known as Gideon’s Band.” This last group was the so-called “Gideonites”, young idealists who had already worked assiduously in Maryland. But the Sea Islands offered an even greater opportunity, for there the “political and social foundations will be built anew” while in Maryland their task was limited to “patching the worst parts of the old edifice.”

    The “Sea Islands Experiment” became a highly publicized affair, as Northerners, whose knowledge of Black people was often limited to what they had read in Uncle Tom’s Cabin, saw in it a perfect opportunity to see how the enslaved would fare once emancipated. Many, if not most, of the Yankees that flocked to the Sea Islands carried with them paternalistic attitudes and racist assumptions, believing that Black people could only join the free market and become free laborers if guided by benevolent White teachers and advisors. But these beliefs belied genuine concern for the freedmen and a sincere desire to aid them. These commitments were shared by reformers who flocked to the occupied lands in the Mississippi Valley. It was their efforts and activism that secured the creation of the Three Bureaus in middle-1863, and their lobbying also secured the appointment or enhanced the influence of many officers sympathetic to the freedmen, such as Rufus Saxton, E.R.S. Canby, and John Eaton. Their crowning achievement was convincing Lincoln to set aside plots of land, to be given to the Black families of the Sea Islands.

    Throughout the liberated Confederate areas, the Freedmen’s Bureau took over the education, health and protection of the freedmen, while the Labor Bureau set conditions for their employment and the Land Bureau worked to confiscate and distribute estates among them. But the abolitionists that dominated local chapters of the Bureaus had to grapple with Army authorities, Northern investors and Treasury agents that weren’t always sympathetic to their goals or to their charges. The problem was increased by the fact that the Bureaus had not been given their own budget, meaning that they needed to use Army personnel. This, naturally, greatly limited their influence wherever the local officers weren’t willing to cooperate. Even within the Bureaus there was the widespread feeling that the freedmen should not be made permanent wards of the State, and that the only way for them to achieve true dignity and freedom was through self-sufficiency, not the aid of the government.

    The consequences were that the Union authorities enforced the government’s directives not with the revolutionary vision with which lawmakers had conceived them. In special, military authorities worked under the assumption that some sort of coerced labor would be needed to reactivate the production of cotton and thus the region’s economy. This conviction was reinforced by the pressure of Northern industrialists and investors, who hoped to strike it rich through the cultivation of cotton by free Black labor. These entrepreneurs by and large would agree with Edward S. Philbrick, a member of their ranks who asserted that “the abandonment of slavery did not imply the abandonment of cotton”, but that Black laborers would work more efficiently and profitably now that they were free and could trust in economic rewards and social advancement if they worked hard enough.

    As a result, and many months previously to the enactment of the Third Confiscation Act, a system of “compulsory free labor” was developed in the occupied South. The enslaved that came within Union lines would be given three choices: being put to work on abandoned plantations, working for the Army as laborers, or, after the Emancipation Proclamation and especially after Union Mills, joining the Army as soldiers. In all cases, they would sign contracts and receive wages, an acknowledgement of their right to “the fruits of their own labor”, a right Lincoln had once insisted they should always enjoy. The Army would also protect their other rights, offering education to their children, medical care to the infirm or elderly, and forbidding physical punishment. Such a system, those in favor argued, would help manage the humanitarian crisis, reactivate the Southern economy, and allow the freedmen to pay for their own protection and living.

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    The Port Royal Experiment was the most publicized one, but far from the usual war-time experience of freedmen

    This system, “an anomaly born of the exigencies of war, ideology, and politics”, soon proved imperfect, and satisfactory to no one. In the Mississippi Valley, it was found especially unsuitable due to the sheer number of refugees who flocked to the territories controlled by the Union. Directly organizing their labor seemed an impossible task, especially when the Army still had to fight against the rebels and thus could not devote its entire energies to this humanitarian crisis. To solve this problem, in middle-1862 the Army started to lease abandoned plantations to loyal men. As part of the policy of conciliation, loyal Southerners and recanting Confederates were allowed to lease it too after swearing a loyalty oath. Most of the leased plantations, however, ended under the control of Northern leasers, who usually arrived not with idealistic convictions or a genuine sympathy for the freedmen, but a desire to build a fortune in cotton trade.

    This “unsavory lot” was motivated by greed and aided by the corruption of army officers and soldiers who also hoped to “pluck the golden goose” of the South. Naturally, the rights of the freedmen were not a priority, especially when they showed their unwillingness to submit to a system that didn’t fully guarantee their rights and didn’t fulfill their aspirations. Most of the freedmen wanted, above everything else, to own and work their own land, free of White coercion and violence. The lease system, with its forced yearly contracts, low wages and “perfect subordination” enforced by the Army, was seen by most as slavery under another name. Constant disputes between employers and employees ensued, as the lessees clamored for more coercive measures, even adopting the planters’ beliefs that physical punishment was the only way to make Black people work. “They work less, have less respect, are less orderly than ever”, they complained.

    The lessees also found it difficult to obtain the tools and food they needed and had to face unscrupulous Army officers and the “Army worm”, named like that because, like the Army officers, it always “found ways to appropriate nine tenths of the crop”. But what ultimately doomed the lease system was the collapse of order in the Mississippi Valley, and the resulting increase in violence and chaos. The Union Army, nominally in control, was overwhelmed by the degree of savage violence in a territory as large as France or the Iberian Peninsula. In the areas presumably under Northern control “a system of anarchy reigned” instead, a distraught Confederate admitted. The degree of brutality and destruction increased after the Fall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson, for the weakened Confederate regular forces had to rely in raids, unable to directly face Grant. But maneuvers meant to strain logistics or slow down the enemy had an appalling tendency to degenerate into indiscriminate and disorganized campaigns of looting, arson and murder. Direct casualties, to be sure, remained relatively low, but the continuous chaos impeded commerce, disrupted agriculture and made thousands of fearful citizens flee. The quite brutal policy of forcibly expelling civilians became a tool of the Yankees, who issued decrees that forced non-combattants out, seized their produce and cattle, and confiscated their homes in reprisal for their aid to the guerrillas. "It is harsh and cruel," a soldier admitted, "but whatever we don't take a marauder will".

    However, it wasn't only the Federals that engaged in such policies. To prevent Southern resources from falling into the hands of the enemy, rebel armies and guerrillas ordered that all loyal Confederates should leave their homes for the interior, taking everything they could and turning everything they could not over to the Confederacy. But civilians didn't want to give their mules and cattle to the graybacks anymore than they wanted to give them to the bluejackets. Of special contention was the "refugeeing" of the enslaved, an expensive practice that wealthy masters engaged in, forcing their human property deeper into the interior or to far away areas such as Texas. But other masters refused, leaving slaves behind who, they believed, would remain loyal to them. Even in the face of the Union's growing commitment to emancipation, which meant that slaves left behind would just become the enemy's laborers and soldiers, many masters still insisted that the government had no right to move or use their property. When Breckinridge ordered commanders "to remove from any district exposed to . . . or overrun by the enemy the effective male slaves", a Virginia legislator lectured the President, telling him he should "refrain . . . from exercising a power . . . seriously objectionable and prejudicial" to the interests of planters.

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    The flight of civilians caused thousands of deaths due to exposure, hunger and disease

    While people in Richmond debated constitutional niceties, the situation grew desperate in Mississippi and other areas where the Yankees were directly assaulting slavery. When planters and plantation owners refused to move to the interior, the Army and the guerrillas would forcibly expel them, abducting the enslaved to serve as laborers and taking all the foodstuffs and produce for themselves. If they refused, they were simply murdered. Planters who tried to resume their loyalty to the Union and lease land or work with their former slaves found themselves continually threatened by guerrillas that regarded them as traitors and menaced their lives if they refused to move or turn over their property. With civil authority having completely collapsed, guerrilla chieftains and individual commanders became warlords over large swathes of territory, where their men were the real power. Illustrative of this situation was that in a Mississippi county, the selling of a house was completed not by an appearance before a judge or notary, but before the local guerrilla chief, who was given a large amount of cotton and beef in exchange of recognizing the sell and protecting the new owner. The situation made it necessary for thousands to escape, which resulted in the spectacle of once wealthy and proud planters fleeing through swamps with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

    Appallingly, the collapse of slavery only inspired further violence on the part of guerrillas, which often decided to just massacre Black laborers who refused to be "refugeed", or attacked those who had already been settled on plantations, murdering the Northern lessee or Southern Tory that was in charge. The Confederates too destroyed boats and impeded river commerce, and routinely razed the land behind Union lines to prevent the enemy from using it. The result was that lessees lived in constant fear of having their laborers murdered, the land they leased destroyed, and their own lives ended. In response, Grant ordered a series of anti-guerrilla sweeps, declaring that all rebels found under arms should be immediately executed. Union guerrillas, not to be outdone by their rebel counterparts, took to enforcing these terrible decrees, plundering farms and plantations, and coldly butchering those who didn't flee or refused to take the loyalty oath. These bloody actions were taken without the direct orders of the Yankee commanders, but often with their tacit approval.

    But these actions could not stop the constant depredations of Confederate soldiers and guerrillas. The Army, unable to patrol the enormous territory under its control, was helpless to aid lessees when Confederate marauders attacked. Through 1863, over thirty lessees were murdered along with thousands of freedmen, in many scenes of gory massacre. One lessee, for example, found the heads of his two sons on his doorstep, a note telling him to leave. He preferred to kill himself. Recanting Confederates fared even worse, for they were considered traitors to their section and thus held in greater contempt. “We live in terror and dismay, sir. Daily deadly threats come in against my husband’s life since he turned Union”, a woman desperately wrote to her local commander, begging for some protection. “We know these men don’t hesitate to murder women and children in the most horrendous ways. Please sir, we need soldiers to protect us loyal people.”

    Such a violent situation caused the lessee system to crumble during 1863. Submerged in constant disputes and constant threats, most lessees found it impossible to turn a profit despite the sky-high price of cotton. The increase of guerrilla activity and the worsening of the humanitarian crisis after the fall of Vicksburg created an even more desperate situation. Disillusioned, most returned North by late 1863. This allowed for an alternate system, one that encouraged Black independence and land ownership, to take hold. The “home farm” system was first instituted by General John Eaton in the Mississippi Valley in early 1863. Instead of leasing the land to Northern factors or loyal planters, the abandoned, and later confiscated, plantations would be turned over to the freemen, who were free to work them as they saw fit. The Army would ensure their safety and bring them food and tools, in exchange for the cotton they grew. The need to balance the Army’s needs with the freedmen’s aspirations meant that most of the home farms created were relatively small. Nonetheless, and especially after the Third Confiscation Act, thousands of freedmen were settled in thousands of acres of confiscated land, forty acres being given to each family alongside a title to the land under the terms of the law.

    In practice, the home farm project proved far more successful than leasing. The slaves that had flooded the Union strongholds were quickly resettled in confiscated plantations, while those who had been abandoned and welcomed the Yankees would often be given command over their former owner's plantations on the spot. Many a fleeing master discovered then that their expectations of loyalty had been sorely mistaken. The young Katherine Stone was "hurt and perplexed" when she learned that her family's butler, instead of defending their plantation, had invited the Yankees in and become the leader of the home farm they established. It was this show of loyalty to the National cause rather than the rebel authorities that inspired Grant and other Union commanders to arm Black refugees, often giving them whatever surplus arms were available and formally organizing them as USCT regiments only later. Consequently, wherever the Union Army marched, they liberated and armed the enslaved, a fulfillment of "the worst nightmares of the planter class".

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    The Negro Paradise of Davis Bend

    Thus, the liberation of the enslaved, their arming and organization, and the redistribution of land in their favor became the most effective and accepted way to deal with the crisis. To make it easier for the Army, the freedmen were usually given collective control over large plantations, with the promise that it would be divided into family plots at the end of the war. USCT regiments formed out of the home farm’s men would be organized and posted to protect the residents, creating a more constant and motivated force that would free White soldiers to remain with the main army commands. These “independent Negro cultivators” managed to raise more cotton and protect themselves more effectively from Confederates than the “sharp sighted speculators” had done. One particular story of success is that of Davis Bend, the plantation Confederate Secretary of War Jefferson Davis had owned with his brother Joseph. Ordered by Grant to create a “Negro paradise” there, Eaton settled several Black families, which went on to raise 2,000 bales of cotton and create their own government complete with judges and sheriffs.

    From its inception, the home farm system earned bitter criticism, especially from White Southerners who believed that such a system would only encourage “laziness and vagrancy” among freedmen. “Only the whip and the hard hand of the overseer”, could revive agriculture, they asserted, and pointed to the fact that many freedmen preferred to cultivate food for their families or focus on their children’s education rather than devoting all their energies to cotton cultivation as under slavery. As Black activists said in outrage, these criticisms were invalid and hypocritical, for whenever White men worked only for their own subsistence they were lauded as Jeffersonian heroes and self-reliant farmers, while Black laborers were criticized as “lazy, indolent and improvident for the future” for wanting to concentrate on their own living instead of working for the benefit and under the control of Whites. Especially contentious was the refusal of many freedmen to cultivate cotton, “the slave crop” that they identified with slavery and submission to White authority but one that Yankees usually saw as the only way to run the home farms efficiently and profitably.

    The success of the home farm system became more apparent in the later half of 1863, after the vigorous enforcement of the Third Confiscation Act and the weakening of the Confederates thanks to Grant’s victory at Liberty allowed for millions of acres of land to come under Union control. Union Mills also changed Yankee aptitudes towards Black Union soldiers, and whereas their recruitment was once seen as an invitation to butchery and servile insurrection, now hundreds more regiments were being mustered into service to defend the home farms. These regiments, which wounded Southern pride so deeply, proved adept when it came to countering rebel guerrillas. After the war, many leaders of the Black community and Reconstruction came from the home farm regiments, whose military service and experience fighting the Confederates resulted in a firm commitment to defend the new order and demand and protect their rights. As soon as the war ended, and with many Yankees regiment returning home, these regiments of radicalized Black soldiers would be the ones left behind to patrol the occupied South and enforce Reconstruction.

    The arrival of the new Bureau authorities also resulted in great changes, as Bureau agents settled freedmen on confiscated plantations, protected them from abuse and violence, and regulated the labor of those who still worked for wages. The labor system under the Bureaus, a Northern lessee complained, was “framed in the exclusive interest of the negro and in the non-recognition of the moral sense and patriotism of the white man.” But the Bureaus also worked to take care of poor White refugees, and thousands of White yeomen also were settled in confiscated plantations. The weak Unionist sentiment in many parts of the South ensued that these “Union colonies” would also be defended by USCT regiments, and many Bureau schools and hospitals were racially integrated. Though this naturally contributed to racial tensions, the experience of war and emancipation also caused many Southerners to leave behind their prejudices, and by 1864 a Northern radical touring the South could be astonished by the fact that in cities like Jackson, Nashville and Vicksburg “Negroes and Whites work together, go to school together, and even take part in local governments together. Who could have predicted this wondrous transformation of public feeling?”

    Despite the fact that many Union authorities remained opposed to the idea of Black land-ownership, one calling it “a wild scheme, that out-radicals all the radicalism I ever heard of”, by the middle of 1864 the home farm system had taken over and Bureau agents continued to enforce the Confiscation Act en large to obtain more land for more home farms. The failure of the lease system, constant Confederate violence and the failures and tribulations of Reconstruction seemed to convince most Yankees, including Lincoln, that this was the way forward. As the New York Times noted, deeply rooted “theories and prejudices” were being discarded, and ideas that had seemed impossible just a year ago, such as Black landownership and Black suffrage, were now taking hold among Northern Republicans. Consequently, when the Congress passed George Julian’s Southern Homestead bill, which gave Black soldiers 10 acres of land for their service and declared that confiscated land would be taken “in perpetuity”, Lincoln signed it, commenting the success of land redistribution “in the work of the colored people’s moral and physical elevation” and how experiments in Black land ownership were leading to “an earlier and happier consummation than the most sanguine friends of the freedmen could reasonably expect.”

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    The Home Farm system proved succesful for the management of Black labor and the humanitarian crisis

    In early 1864, a white resident of Chattanooga noted that, even with the war still raging on, life was “so different from what it used to be”. Indeed, revolutionary changes had come to the occupied South. With Bureau schools and hospitals dotting the land, and some 200,000 Black people settled in some 5 million acres of land, this new South looked nothing like the old one. But as it often happens, the Revolution kept inexorably moving forward, and while these astounding changes would have received “unqualified applause” from Northern Republicans just a year ago, now they didn’t seem enough. The issues shifted and with “emancipation now an article of party faith”, most Republicans now were debating the post-war status of Black people. For the Radicals, the Revolution would not be complete until “blacks had been guaranteed education, access to land, and, most importantly, the ballot”. The struggle to define the post-war order continued, and was intensified, instead of settled, by Lincoln’s Declaration of Amnesty and Reconstruction, delivered as part of his annual message to Congress in December, 1863.

    The message was borne out of the war experiences of 1863, the failure of the lease system and the first successes of land redistribution, and the thriving debate over the meaning of freedom and citizenship that raged in the North towards the end of the year. It was the first time a coherent program for Reconstruction had been articulated by the Union’s leaders. “Under the sharp discipline of civil war the nation is beginning a new life”, Lincoln declared, remarking that the liberation of thousands of slaves and the process of Reconstruction would lead to “changes as profound as those of the first revolution”. The President also paid homage to the “heroism and patriotism” of the more than 200,000 Black Union soldiers, “whose commitment to the cause of freedom is as noble and enduring as that of the best white men in our service”. Finally, Lincoln presented his proclamation, with which he hoped to start a process of Reconstruction that would see “the home of freedom disenthralled, regenerated, enlarged, and perpetuated.”

    In the proclamation, Lincoln declared that rebels that desired “to resume their allegiance to the United States and to reinaugurate loyal State governments” would receive a full pardon and amnesty, after swearing an oath of allegiance to the United States and all of its laws and proclamations. This blanket offer was not extended to anybody who had held civil office, state or Federal, under “the so-called Confederate states”; served in its armed forces with the equivalent rank of colonel or superior; or had held civil or military office, state or Federal, under the United States but had then joined the rebellion. People who had engaged in “abominable crimes against the laws of war and nations” would also be exempted, Lincoln warning that they would be tried under the laws passed by Congress. Those who had had their properties confiscated would enjoy its full restitution, except for slaves, if they resumed their loyalty before July 4th, 1865. Should any of those who applied for a pardon engage in future disloyal activities against the US in “a cruel and an astounding breach of faith”, they would be liable for confiscation, even of properties already returned, and also for treason trials.

    The Proclamation continued, stating that loyal citizens and those who had taken the oath and resumed their loyalty could organize loyal State governments that would be recognized by his administration as the legitimate government of the state if they constituted 25% of the citizens that had voted in the last presidential election. To begin this process, the loyal citizens would have to elect a constitutional convention, that would then draft a new state constitution which had to prohibit slavery. Any provision in regard to the freedmen that “shall recognize and declare their permanent freedom, provide for their education, and which may yet be consistent, as a temporary arrangement, with their present condition as a laboring, landless, and homeless class” would be welcomed by the President, but not required. As for qualifications, only those who could take the “ironclad oath”, meaning that they had never aided the Confederacy willingly in any way, could be elected to a seat in these Constitutional Conventions.

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    The Heroism of the Black Soldiers of the Union Army helped to transform the nation

    The most revolutionary parts of the Proclamation came at the end. Lincoln declared that the lands confiscated from those exempted from pardons would never be restored; likewise, land confiscated from anybody who had not resumed their loyalty before July 4th 1865 would be permanently forfeited. Land on which the freedmen had been settled was theirs, “in perpetuity”, and the new state governments had to grant them a secure title. Finally, suffrage was extended to Black men “on the basis of military service and intelligence”, allowing them to take part in the Reconstruction process. Black voters would count to reach the required 25% of the pre-war voter total, opening the possibility of a Reconstruction dominated by Black voters in states where African Americans constituted a large minority or even a majority of the population. This was nothing less than a Revolution in earnest.

    Lincoln’s measures, as usual, combined sincere beliefs with practicality. Lincoln had already privately told a New York Republican that he favored suffrage for Blacks the previous summer after Union Mills, but had said nothing publicly. This was due to the unpopularity of Black suffrage among Northerners. But just like how emancipation had come to be accepted, it seemed now that giving the ballot to at least some African Americans was being accepted by more and more Yankees. “I find that almost all who are willing to have colored men fight are willing to have them vote”, wrote Secretary Chase for instance. The overwhelming Republican triumph in the fall elections and the achievements of the Maryland Constitutional Convention certainly helped, for they made Lincoln feel secure in his political position and brought the issue of Black suffrage to the center of the political debate. It’s certainly not a coincidence that Lincoln first timidly raised the issue publicly after those events, and although the passing mention of “the recognition of the colored people’s civil and political rights” evoked predictable outrage, Lincoln dismissed it freely as “the opinions of a few Copperheads”. One month later, and he included Black suffrage as part of Reconstruction.

    But underneath this Radical front, Lincoln’s Reconstruction plan also included some measures that disquieted Radicals. Though the exclusions of many Confederate leaders were welcome, Lincoln’s measures left the great majority of White Southerners, including low level government officials and private planters that had supported secession but hadn’t joined the Confederate government, free to take part in the Reconstruction process. Lincoln claimed that all loyal men agreed that it was necessary to keep “the rebellious populations from overwhelming and outvoting the loyal minority”, but most Radicals believed that without universal suffrage that would inevitably happen, since the qualified suffrage of Lincoln’s formula would only allow a tiny percentage of the South’s Black people to vote. The plan, moreover, did not force the Southern governments to include any disposition pertaining to Black people’s education or other political and civil rights such as jury service, and there were real fears that confiscation and other measures needed to continue the Revolution would be stopped if Federal oversight was quickly ended.

    Indeed, a hasty end to Federal intervention was the greater Radical worry, for most had become convinced that a lengthy period of Federal rule, during which the South could be socially and politically reconstructed, was needed before the states were reintegrated into the Union. Lincoln’s plan promised a quick restoration of governments that would necessarily include former Confederates whose Unionism was suspect. These “inverted pyramids”, as the New York World called them because “only a few thousand voters would control the destiny of entire states”, could certainly not function as the basis for stable governments or for the more far-reaching changes Radicals advocated for. Furthermore, while Lincoln sincerely believed in Black suffrage as the right thing to do, savvy Radicals were quick to recognize that for the President it was mostly another “carrot and stick”, because it would push planters and other Confederates to quickly pledge loyalty to the Union and take command of the Reconstruction process lest Black people do it first. For that reason, Lincoln would allow the new governments ample capacity to regulate the transition to free labor and the new state institutions, which smacked of betrayal to Radicals committed to deep and revolutionary changes in Southern life.

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    The Second American Revolution had already begun. The questions related to its extent and objectives

    The “Quarter Plan” as it became known, was not a policy set in stone from which Lincoln was never willing to deviate. The President never thought of it as final policy for Reconstruction, but, similarly to Emancipation, he believed in the Plan as a military measure that would create “a rallying point– a plan of action”, causing snowballing defections from the Confederacy and achieving a faster end to the war. The Quarter Plan, Lincoln said, “is the best the Executive can present, with his present impressions”, but “it must not be understood that no other possible mode would be acceptable”. It didn’t lay a comprehensible blueprint for the South’s future once the war was over, but it wasn’t meant to. Nonetheless, the implementation of the plan in the Deep South quickly revealed its revolutionary implications, allowing for new groups of power to emerge, and creating serious differences among Northern lawmakers. Nowhere was this more evident than in Louisiana, whose experience of Reconstruction would profoundly affect and even shape the President’s and the Congress’ intentions and perceptions regarding the future, and result in a struggle between them as they both tried to take charge.
     
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    Side-story: "A Mississippi Guerrilla"
  • A Mississippi Guerrilla

    Andrew quickly ran around the house, doing his best to carry the grain sack and not spill anything. It would not do to leave the soldiers a trail to their hiding place. His arms ached under the weight of the sack, but the 17-year-old boy still ran as fast as he could. He knew that without that grain his mother and his little sister would starve. They didn’t have any Negroes to raise the crops, and with dad and Jim gone their little farm couldn’t raise a lot anyway. And what little they had was then taken by the Army, whose soldiers descended on the farms of every yeoman family like locusts. If only President Breckinridge knew that such abuses were being committed! He would surely put a stop to that. But with the Yankees so close to Atlanta and Richmond Andrew understood that the President needed to focus elsewhere. He understood the fact that men had to have priorities, that’s why he had stayed with mother and Sally even though he wished to join the Army and fight for the South too. Oh, how he would show those Yankees!

    He hid the grain well, and then returned. He didn’t want mother to face the soldiers alone, and even if he was only a boy (as some sneering soldiers had already told him), he still felt it was his duty to protect mother and Sally. Just like it was Jim’s duty to join the Army. Three years ago, when the war had just started, he hadn’t understood why. Dad had already joined, why did the South need another man? Jim had embraced him, stroking his hair, and Andrew held into him, not wanting to let go. “There are thousands of Yankees coming here, to Mississippi, to take our property and make us slaves of our Negroes”, he said. “But we don’t have any Negroes!”, Andrew protested, feeling anger against the big planters, who had all the money and all the Negroes. “It does not matter, the Yankees will enslave all the White people if we don’t fight”, Jim took a deep breath and continued, “that’s why I must fight.” He fell later, at the hands of the drunkard Grant at Corinth. Then news came that father died of malaria.

    The horses they had heard now burst from the nearby trees, striding towards their shack. But as they drew closer, Andrew noted something, something that made his blood run cold. Their uniforms were not the problem, for they were wearing the brownish, greyish rags that most Confederate soldiers wore, their country to impoverished by the blockade and the Yankee vandals to weave actual gray uniforms. The problem wasn’t the two Negroes riding with them either, they could be slaves for all Andrew knew. The problem was their flag. Instead of their proud Stars and Bars, they were flying the Yankee Stars and Stripes. And alongside it, floating in the air like a terrible warning, there was a black flag.

    “Guerrillas”, Andrew thought immediately, “Yankee Guerrillas”. Distinguishing those marauders was necessary, even if Yankee was technically the wrong name for many of them were Southerners who had betrayed their land. Andrew knew that some of the men who fought for the South were called guerrillas and hanged without remorse by the Lincoln Armies. Some could be bloodthirsty indeed, taking pleasure in killing Negroes and murdering Yankee soldiers. But when Lincoln and his acolytes, like the vengeful Stevens or the drunkard Grant, were in a war to exterminate the people of the South, what other choice did they have? They had to resist by all means, and if that meant killing some miserable Negroes, so be it. As far as Andrew was concerned, the so-called Confederate guerrillas were heroes, the same their dad was, and the same Jim had been. He had even wanted to join once, and when a guerrilla tried to recruit him forcibly, he almost went, if not for the cries of his mother, which made even those hardened warriors relent.

    The group that was now approaching Andrew’s home was different. Those Yankee guerrillas, groups of deserters, draft-dodgers and Black Republicans, who even recruited Negroes and included some Yankee soldiers, were not heroes. They were monsters. Riding through the South, assassinating people, encouraging desertion, treachery and, worse of all, slave insurrection, the Yankee guerrillas were trying to destroy the South, one murdered innocent at the time. And now it was their turn. They were just ten men, but there wasn’t any Confederate Army nearby to protect them. Maybe one of their guerrillas was nearby? Since they had lost at Liberty, the guerrillas were the ones keeping order and protecting them, even if they sometimes weren’t really gentle either, prone to stealing food and forcing youths to join their ranks. If they were there, they would protect them. But that didn’t matter because they weren’t there.

    The guerrillas let out a battle cry, very different from their rebel yell, and charged. Mother, her hair grey and her cheeks swallow, stared in terror. Sally, who at thirteen was shaping up to be a quite handsome girl, had started to sob. And Andrew? Andrew stood frozen in place, keenly feeling that he was just a useless boy. They first cut his mothers throat, saying she was useless to them, before one of the Negroes took Sally. He screamed at the Negro, yelling to take his hands off her, and one of the White men there hit him in the stomach, making him kneel in pain. “Stay silent, boy”, he said, his drawl betraying that he was a traitor. He bit his hand, and then the man, his eyes bloodshot, took him to a nearby tree and started to beat him. Andrew barely felt his kicks and his punches, however. All he felt was white-hot fury, and shame, and horror, as he saw how the guerrillas tore Sally’s clothes and violated her. He didn’t even feel it when the guerrilla tied a rope to a branch, saying he wanted him to suffer, as the other marauders lit the house on fire. He didn’t even hear the rebel yell that broke the air and made the Yankee guerrilla mount their horses and flee.

    He did feel the soft kick in his side, that didn’t have any force behind it but still made pain flare. “He’s alive”, a man said, his grey clothes covered with dirt, “help me get him away”. Their guerrillas had come, just too late. Their farm was ashes, mother was dead, Sally was dead, Jim was dead, father was dead, and Andrew was barely alive. The guerrillas that rescued him at the last minute had no medicine, but the whisky they carried helped to numb the pain, nonetheless. Just the physical pain, of course. He had nothing to live for, and he wished he were dead. Maybe he’d use the rope the Yankees had left. But his thoughts were interrupted by the Confederate who had rescued him, who put a hand on his shoulder. “You could do nothing against those cowards, son”, the man said, his eyes speaking of similar grief. “But if you join us, you can avenge your mother and your sister. The Confederacy needs every man.” Andrew nodded, and doing his best to forget the pain, stood up. He felt like killing some Negroes and some Yankees.
     
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    Chapter 44: The Greatest Question of Practical Statesmanship
  • In many ways, it was “a cruel trick of fate” that decided that Louisiana would be the first of the Deep South states to be Reconstructed. Long time divided by economic, cultural, and racial lines, affected by violent, corrupt, and factional politics, Louisiana was certainly less than ideal for any political experiment. Even under normal circumstances, reconstructing such a state was a difficult task. But making Louisiana an example for the reconstruction of all other Confederate states seemed to be all but impossible. Consequently, it was rather unfortunate that Louisiana had become the “real test” of Reconstruction as envisioned in President Lincoln’s Quarter Plan. The implementation of this program in such imperfect circumstances would quickly result in the start of several bitter contests, as the revolutionary implications of Reconstruction opened the door to showdowns between Conservatives and Radicals, the President and Congress, and White and Black people, over the meaning and objectives of Reconstruction.

    Louisiana’s Reconstruction began when the Union Army took New Orleans in late 1862. The victory of Farragut’s gunners and the occupation of the Confederacy’s largest city gave the Union government control over “a cosmopolitan and politically active population which had voted overwhelmingly against Breckinridge in 1860”. The population of the areas under Union control included planters of Whiggish sympathies, transplanted Northerners involved in banking and business, European immigrants who often brought enlightened ideas with them, and a sizeable free-black population, whose prosperity, education, and light-skin distinguished them from the majority of Southern African Americans. All these factions were quick to pledge loyalty to the Union, including wealthy sugar and cotton planters who seemed ready to resume their allegiance to the National government due to their backgrounds as Whigs and Conditional Unionists – or, just as likely, to obtain trade permits and perhaps delay the end of the slavery.

    The military commander, General Burnside, was not a radical, but his zeal to punish treason and his willingness to use violence to end dissent, meant that the Proclamation was enforced extensively despite protests from planters and ladies that emptied chamber pots on his and his soldiers’ heads. Slavery soon started to completely disintegrate in Louisiana, the efforts of many planters to prevent that proving to be ineffective. As General Banks, sent by Lincoln to inspect Burnside’s administration, bluntly told a group of loyal planters, “theories, prejudices and opinions based on the old system” had to be discarded, and it was in their best interests to embrace a new order based on free labor. But as in other parts of the South, “free labor” as managed by the Army seemed at first like a cruel mockery. Indeed, although the Army had pledged to protect the wages of Black laborers and guarantee them food, medical care and education, the regulations issued by the Army “bore a marked resemblance to slavery” – sometimes, at least, for Burnside’s inadequacy as an administrator meant that most often creating and enforcing regulations was up to the local commander.

    Consequently, instead of a single Reconstruction with clear objectives, Reconstruction in Louisiana was at first disorganized and divergent, some areas undergoing a process under the control of the Free State Association and the Bureaus, others one led by Conservative Army officers and loyal planters. All factions well understood that this “period of chaos and confusion” had to eventually give way to a definitive model for Reconstruction. The stakes were raised by the fact that, even months before Lincoln issued his proclamation of amnesty, it was becoming apparent that Louisiana would be used a testing ground for Reconstruction policies that would then be copied throughout the rest of the South if successful. As one of the leaders of the Free State Association, Benjamin Flanders, said, a Radical victory in Louisiana would be “the galvanizing shock that will traverse the rebel states and lead to freedom’s triumph in each of them”.

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    Benjamin Franklin Flanders

    In this struggle for taking over Louisiana’s reconstruction process, the Radicals initially had the upper hand. The “more dynamic faction”, the Radicals included many men whose presence “would not have surprised anyone familiar with the leadership of radical movements in contemporary Europe, for the delegates included reform-minded professionals, small businessmen, artisans, civil servants, and a sprinkling of farmers and laborers.” Opposing them were conservative planters who hoped to preserve the framework of slavery and thus White Supremacy, even if slavery itself was doomed. To do so, they urged the President to allow election of new state authorities under the existing Louisiana constitution, a step that would prevent the enactment of further changes the Radicals desired, such as Black suffrage.

    In any case, by middle-1863, following the victories at Liberty and the creation of the Bureaus, Lincoln endorsed the program of the Free State Association, which included as its cornerstone the organization of a constitutional convention before a state government was elected. This represented a bitter defeat for the Conservative faction, who still clung to the idea of Reconstructing the state under the existing constitution. Lincoln’s endorsement allowed the program of land redistribution and radical reform to finally flourish in Louisiana, a state where loyal planters and reluctant Army officers had prevented the question of land and labor from advancing beyond the increasingly discredited formula of “coerced free labor”.

    But the Radicals were uncharacteristically reluctant to take the initiative to politically Reconstruct Louisiana, because they were painfully aware of how unpopular they were with the White population of their state. Thus, neither the Radicals, who wanted to delay Reconstruction until universal suffrage was enacted, nor the Conservatives, who did not want to replace the existing constitution, took the initiative to reconstruct Louisiana. This was disappointing news for Lincoln, who sincerely believed that a quick Reconstruction could end the war faster. The Louisianans, the President sullenly grumbled, wanted “to touch neither a sail nor a pump, but to be merely passengers, —dead-heads at that—to be carried snug and dry, throughout the storm, and safely landed right side up.” Lincoln instead invested his hopes on Burnside, whom he pushed to hold elections. “Do not waste a day about it,” Lincoln ordered. “Follow forms of law as far as convenient, but at all events get the expression of the largest number of the people possible.”

    But Burnside, immersed in an attempt to aid Grant in his campaign for Vicksburg, found little success. Aside from New Orleans elections that had sent Hanh and Flanders to Congress, something that in practical terms accomplished little because the Congress refused to seat them, no great progress had been made in several months. Not even the victory at Mississippi was enough to save Burnside, because although the Army of the Gulf was instrumental to the triumph the bluecoats fought under the command of General Rosecrans, who was merely on loan and remained officially a subordinate of General Grant. Furthermore, whatever his flaws, Burnside was an honorable man that refused to advance his career at Rosecrans’ expense. It also seemed that the General realized that he was in over his head, his letters revealing a certain relief at being transferred to the Army of the Susquehanna and away from those murky political waters he had never quite learned how to thread.

    Soon after Burnside’s dismissal, a Washington correspondent informed Hahn that “rumor is . . . Old Abe is quite tired of that ‘rail’, and he wants to split it as soon as possible”. This meant that the new commander was expected to take decisive action to reconstruct the state. On the left, Radicals pushed for General Benjamin Butler, whose “steel resolve in favor of liberty and iron first against traitors” had facilitated if not resulted in Maryland’s reconstruction. But Lincoln did not trust Butler, a shifty political general. It’s ironic, then, that he chose Nathaniel Banks instead, another political general who was every bit the schemer as Butler.

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    Michael Hahn

    An anti-slavery Democrat, then a Know-Nothing and finally one of the founders of the Republican Party and the first Speaker it elected, Nathaniel Banks was a political general who still commanded great influence within the party. Lincoln placed high hopes in Banks, but they were to be bitterly disappointed. At first, Banks had seemingly thrown himself fully into reorganizing the Louisiana administration, injecting much necessary order and energy into a state that had languished in lethargy and confusion under Burnside. Banks sent a delegation of free Blacks to the plantation bell to “ascertain what the negroes wanted.” They found that for the freedmen freedom meant “the sanctity of the family, education for their children, the end of corporal punishment, and payment of reasonable wages”. Banks cooperated with the Bureaus to create new regulations that “substantially increased wages and required planters to supply laborers with garden plots, permitted the freedmen to choose their employers, and allowed black children to attend schools financed by a property tax.”

    But the critical matter of how the political reconstruction of Louisiana was to proceed remained, and Banks, more preoccupied with planning a campaign against Texas, had seemingly no plan of his own. Appointed in September, almost four months later no tangible advance had been achieved. Almost immediately after he delivered his Proclamation of Amnesty, and aghast at the prospect of further delays, Lincoln firmly told Banks “that in every dispute, with whomsoever, you are master”, and ordered him to "go to work and give me a tangible nucleus, of any color, which the rest of the State may rally around as fast as it can, and which I can at once recognize and sustain as the true State government”. Lincoln later explicitly told Banks to comply with the Proclamation and enroll Black voters as well, “the very intelligent, and especially those who have fought gallantly in our ranks”, as a step that would help to “to keep the jewel of liberty within the family of freedom”.

    The provisions of the Proclamation left Banks frankly dismayed. Though he later claimed, perhaps in an effort to ingratiate himself to Congressional Radicals, to have been personally in favor of Black suffrage, the general thought that “every Negro vote cast will inevitably keep . . . a hundred loyal White voters from the ballot boxes. No Southern man will be willing to vote side by side with a colored man, however worthy the latter is.” Calling a Constitutional Convention first would, moreover, result in legislators debating “every theory connected with human legislation”, causing “fatal delay”, while a tentative plan to declare slavery “inoperative and void” by military fiat and hold elections under the old constitution could speed up the process. Willing to admit that the Maryland Constitutional Convention had reached a “happy consummation”, Banks nonetheless reminded Lincoln that two elections and extensive disfranchisement were needed for that result. Finally, the General warned that “revolutions which are not controlled and held within reasonable limits, produce counter-revolutions.”

    Unhappily for Banks, Lincoln rebuffed him, possibly to quiet down Radicals who were already finding the Quarter Plan’s limited suffrage and lack of concrete reforms unpalatable. Realizing that the Quarter Plan was the moderate choice, Banks moved forward with it, ordering Attorney General Thomas J. Durant to enroll all “loyal voters, regardless of color”. But even this limited concession had profound effects, for it opened the “door of opportunities” to New Orleans’ Free Black community. Indeed, limiting the vote to the literate and veterans, and adopting a model of reconstruction that would inevitably turn off some White voters, seemed to prep the stage for the gens de couleur libres to assume a new protagonic role.

    As mentioned previously, the Free Black community of Louisiana was unique, different not only the enslaved but also other free people of color. Light-skinned people who spoke French too, or sometimes only French, experienced in skilled crafts and capable of affording education in private academies in New Orleans or even in Paris, this “Mulatto Elite” was characterized by its wealth, social standing, and education. As Carl Schurz concluded after speaking with one of them, “There is no country of the world, save this, in which he would not be received as a gentleman of the upper class”. Steadfast Unionists, they were some of the most enthusiastic supporters of Black soldiers in the Union Army, providing two units with their own officers to General Burnside, which would then valiantly take part in the Battle of Liberty under Rosecrans’ command. A self-conscious community which felt that the time had come to finally acquire equality, they were also the staunchest proponents of Black suffrage.

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    The New Orleans Creoles were distinguished by their wealth and culture from other African-Americans

    However, the Free Black community tended to separate itself from the enslaved, whom they considered to be beneath them. “Some believed that they would achieve their cause more quickly if they abandoned the black to his fate”, radical editor Jean-Charles Houzeau wrote. “In their eyes, they were nearer to the white man; they were more advanced than the slave in all respects. . . . A strange error in a society in which prejudice weighed equally against all those who had African blood in their veins, no matter how small the amount.” Consequently, the qualified suffrage of Lincoln’s plan was at first perfectly acceptable to them. Only a few Radicals remained disgruntled and willing to fight for universal suffrage, including Durant who clamored that “There could be no middle ground in a revolution. It must work a radical change in society; such had been the history of every great revolution.”

    Having isolated his opponents and obtained the favor of others through patronage, Banks moved forward. In February 1864, elections were held for a Constitutional Convention under the terms of President Lincoln’s Quarter Plan. Turnout amounted to 26% of the 1860 total, barely crossing the threshold set by Lincoln. It’s estimated that 90% of eligible Black voters turned out, representing 40% of the total vote even though the African Americans who fulfilled the requisites constituted a certainly lower percentage of the total population. No Black delegate was chosen, Banks having persuaded them not to, convinced that presenting Black candidates would dramatically drop turnout. Nonetheless, the convention would have a smashing majority of Moderate Unionists, committed to the end of slavery and capable of reluctantly swallowing limited Black suffrage. It seemed, for all intents, like an enormous triumph for the President’s policy.

    The Louisiana Constitutional Convention, hastily assembled just a month later, was similar to other Conventions held during the war. Largely made of men committed to overthrowing the planter aristocracy but not friendly by any means to Black equality, the Convention made New Orleans the new state capital, declared that representation would be based on voters, established a minimum wage and nine-hour day, and created a system of progressive taxation and, for the first time, public education. Slavery’s demise was by then a fait accompli, but the Convention made sure to include a provision abolishing it. “Rhode Island or Massachusetts is as likely to become a slave state, as Louisiana is to reestablish the institution”, celebrated Banks. With the end of slavery also came the end of the planter class’s political power, which had been used “for the sole and exclusive benefit of slaveholders” in the antebellum. Emancipation, concluded excitedly the convention’s president, was “the commencement of a new era in civilization . . . [a] dividing line between the old and worn out past and the new and glorious future.”

    But just like in Maryland many of the delegates were reluctant, if not outright hostile, to anything that seemed to advance Black rights. Unlike Maryland, where military fiat and wide disfranchisement had increased Radical power, in Louisiana the Radicals were much weaker and rather unable to counter the conservative proposals – in fact, the Radical factions was the smallest, even smaller than the pro-slavery planters turned Unionists. “Prejudice against the colored people is exhibited continually,” a spectator informed Secretary Chase, “prejudice bitter and vulgar.” At its most extreme, some delegates praised slavery as a “most perfect, humane and satisfactory” system of labor, mourning its demise, and pushed the “illogical demand” that all Black people were expelled from the state. This was “a most queer exigency”, a delegate remarked, coming from a Convention elected partly by Black voters and guarded by Black troops.

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    The 1864 Louisiana Constitutional Convention

    Only through a lot of “cajolery, threats and patronage” was Banks able to force the Convention to accept Black education and maintain the limited Black suffrage of Lincoln’s formula, whereas some delegates had originally pushed for a clause that forbade both, in blatant defiance of the President’s wishes. Nothing could be done regarding more profound changes, such as endorsing the Bureaus and land redistribution, which meant that the land that had already been redistributed did not have a secure title. The people of Louisiana, a conservative man wrote, were “willing hat the State should be free, but they cannot stand Radicalism.” Altogether, the result was a defeat for the Radical faction, which Radicals, both in Louisiana and Washington, interpreted as definitive proof that universal manhood suffrage was urgently needed if the new South was to be reconstructed in all aspects.

    Overall, whereas the Maryland Constitutional Convention had been a ray of light for the Radicals, the Louisiana Convention was a bitter disappointment. Even after the Convention concluded its work, the constitution being ratified at the same time as Hahn was elected governor in May (after a campaign where he called his opponents the “Negro equality men”), no great changes seemed forthcoming. Land redistribution continued, but its legality was seriously under question, and the freedmen who worked in plantations were still subject to the humiliating pass system and forced to sign yearly contracts. Even as Lincoln claimed that the new constitution was “better for the poor black man than what we have in Illinois”, a Treasury agent concluded that the wages were so low that the freedmen were condemned to “a state of involuntary servitude” that practically amounted to serfdom. In the words of Frederick Douglass, the current system made the “Proclamation of 1862 a mockery and a delusion”. “Any white man subjected to such restrictive and humiliating prohibitions”, a newspaper concluded, “would certainly call himself a slave.”

    Altogether, this implementation of the Quarter Plan left the Radicals with a deep sense of betrayal, for if this was what the administration considered a successful Reconstruction then the conclusion was clear: Lincoln’s plans had to be entirely scrapped and replaced before they could give way to a “true Reconstruction”, defined in Radical circles as one that fully embraced Black suffrage and equality under the law. This inevitably set the stage for a showdown between the President and Congress over Reconstruction, as Lincoln sought to defend and expand the Quarter Plan while Congress struggled to create a policy of its own. “The tangled threads of dissatisfaction with events in Louisiana, concern for the fate of the freedmen, and rival definitions of loyalty to the Union” would soon come together and produce a bill that many a historian has considered a formal, open challenge by Radicals against Lincoln on the Reconstruction issue.

    In truth, the situation is more complex. The legislative process, it must be emphasized, is long and arduous. The Reconstruction Act that was finally approved in May was the result of long debates held over the precedent months, when the situation in Louisiana was not clear at all and the ramifications of Lincoln’s Reconstruction plan hadn’t materialized yet. Radical opposition would quickly harden once the disappointing results were clear, but at first “few demurred”, for Lincoln and the Radicals agreed “on the crucial question of 1863—whether emancipation must be a condition of Reconstruction”. Indeed, some of the men who most bitterly opposed the President’s policy also cheerfully celebrated it when it was first announced, because in spite of its later conservative reputation at the moment a Proclamation extending the franchise to Black men and confirming land redistribution was certainly revolutionary. An oft-repeated anecdote has a stumbling Ben Wade, “affected by a most inexplicable dizziness and headache”, celebrating in the halls of Congress (for what it’s worth, Wade always denied it).

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    Jean-Charles Houzeau is an example of a European radical who committed his energies to Black civil rights

    The bill, then, cannot be completely understood as a sign of Radical hostility against Lincoln. To fully comprehend it, it’s necessary to analyze its origins, the intentions of its framers, and the ideological point it tried to revindicate. In its final form, the bill did contribute to raising tensions between the President and Congress, Radicals and Moderates, but one cannot ignore how the bill came to be in the first place in order to understand why and how its making, passage and the actions that followed redefined the divisions within the Republican Party and through that redefined Reconstruction itself. The influence of Republican presidential politics cannot be understated either, for many looked forward to an opportunity to replace Lincoln with a candidate closer to their ideologies, while at the same time frankly suspecting that Lincoln only favored a quick restoration of the rebel states as a way to secure more votes for his renomination and reelection.

    At the center of the issue, however, there was a genuine desire on the part of Congress to give a firm legal and constitutional basis to the Reconstruction process, something it had thus far lacked, being based on Lincoln’s war powers and military expedients. Some conservatives had already pointed out that the Lincoln administration maintained that the Confederate states had never actually left the Union, which would imply that the Federal government had no power to interfere with their “internal affairs”, such as slavery. At one level “all Republicans subscribed to this theory of indestructible states in an indissoluble Union”, because to say otherwise would give legal legitimacy to the Confederacy. But they also recognized and accepted that the National government would have to interfere in the Southern states to reorganize and reintegrate them, even if they didn’t agree on the extent and objectives of that intervention. Different constitutional theories were developed to justify this unprecedented exercise of National power.

    On the one hand, some Radicals argued that by rebelling the Southern states had lost their constitutional rights. Stevens asserted that once liberated the rebel states would be “conquered provinces” subjected to the will of the conqueror; Sumner, for his part, believed that they had committed “state suicide” and reverted to the condition of territories, a formula that placed more restrictions on the government but still gave it wide powers to shape and reorganize the South. This “territorialization” program was popular with some Republicans, and, after a lot of negotiations, a bill to give territorial governments to the South was passed by the House in late 1862. But the bill died in the Senate after Lincoln expressed constitutional and practical objections, pointing that a Congressional law that turned states into territories was most likely unconstitutional. However, Lincoln’s objections, and the support of some Republicans, came mostly from the fact that the bill would take the Reconstruction process out of the President’s hands and give it entirely to the Congress.

    A new theory that could conciliate the Congress and the President by giving them dual responsibility over Reconstruction was then developed. Article IV, Section 4 of the Constitution declared that the Federal government had an obligation to “guarantee to every state in this Union a republican form of government”. In the usual ambiguity of the US Constitution, this article did not define what a “republican form of government” was, but it “certainly discountenanced rebellion” and, interpreted correctly, could mean slave emancipation and even Negro suffrage. This constitutional interpretation was joined by a new doctrine, first articulated by the Atlantic Monthly in the fall of 1863. The rebel states, the editorial said, “will not cease to be enemies by being defeated. They have invoked the laws of war, and they must abide the decision of the tribunal to which they have appealed. We may hold them as enemies until they submit to such reasonable terms of peace as we may demand.” Richard Henry Dana then popularized the doctrine in a speech in Faneuil Hall, arguing that the “conquering party may hold the other in the grasp of war until it has secured whatever it has a right to acquire”.

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    Black voters in New Orleans

    The “grasp of war” doctrine was popular among Republicans because it smoothed over factional quarrels and did not entrust exclusive power over the seceded states to the President or Congress but allowed them both to influence and direct the process. But among Republicans, both Radicals and Moderates, the conviction remained that the only way to give Reconstruction a firm and legal basis was through legislation. They believed that Lincoln’s proclamations and actions were temporary expedients, founded in his military powers, which would give way to normal constitutional restrictions as soon as the war was over. “I fail to perceive that any one of the President’s proclamations . . . has vacated the constitution or laws under which the institution of slavery is protected and sustained,” said a representative. Most Congressional Republicans agreed and argued with “nearly universal conviction that some congressional enactment on Reconstruction, almost any enactment, was a legal and practical necessity”.

    Consequently, by the end of 1863 Republicans were convinced that the only way to assure emancipation and begin the reconstruction of the South was through the “binding, sovereign will of the nation as expressed through its legislative channels”, that is, a law. This would naturally give Congress more influence over the scope, conditions, and objectives of Reconstruction, but Lincoln would form part of the process as well through his veto power. Reconstruction “must be done by the concurrence of the legislative and executive powers,” concluded Winter Davis, “without that, it is nothing”. To enact this vision, as soon as Congress met for its December session it created a special committee to “report the bills necessary and proper for carrying into execution” the “guarantee a republican form of government” clause of the Constitution. This would become the Select Committee on the Rebellious States, chaired by Winter Davis, and dominated by Radicals.

    Altogether, historian Michael les Benedict concludes that regardless of party politics and the Louisiana situation, all Republicans “desired the passage of a Reconstruction measure for practical reasons relating primarily to law and what they believed to be the proper principles of government”. It was based on these beliefs rather than in simple doctrinaire opposition that politicians like Winter Davis denounced the Amnesty Proclamation as “a grave usurpation of the legislative authority of the people” as soon as February, when no one was sure of how the Louisiana experiment would turn out. Even people who supported the President, such as Congressman Longyear, who called the Proclamation “a bright and glorious page in the history of the present Administration”, conceded that it was “incomplete” for “lack of constitutional power that can be conferred by Congress alone”.

    The agreement of most Republicans on the necessity of the law does not mean that there was consensus regarding its actual details, as Radicals naturally saw in the bill a way to push forward their agenda, mainly Black suffrage. But, surprisingly enough, the battle did not center on Louisiana, but rather on Montana. After a bill was passed granting a territorial government to Montana in February, the Senate amended it to delete the word “white” from the voter qualifications, in effect instating Black suffrage in the territory. This was a purely ideological move. Even Senator Wade, who was in favor of the change, had to recognize that they were “legislating in reference to shadows”, for no Black men resided in Montana. It was a test of Radical strength, because if Congress could not agree to impose Black suffrage on a territory, where it undoubtedly had the authority to do so, it could hardly be expected to impose Black suffrage on the South, where its authority was contested.

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    The Grasp of War doctrine was used to justify the imposition of different measures on the conquered South

    The Senate amendment was readily agreed upon by House Republicans even in the face of determined Chesnut opposition. It’s been suggested that, with the President having asserted his right to require Black suffrage in the South, the Congress wanted to vindicate its own power. But the passing of the act had an unexpected consequence: it revived territorialization as a viable doctrine. The original bill written by Representative Ashley was then replaced by one written by Winter Davis, who, concluding that the President was “thoroughly Blairized”, proposed to declare all rebel states territories, which would have to elect Constitutional Conventions to draft new constitutions that had to abolish slavery, declare equality under the law, and provide Black people with land. Originally, the bill also forced universal manhood suffrage both on the elections for the Convention and the resulting constitution, but ultimately this was defeated in favor of retaining Lincoln’s qualified suffrage alongside the disenfranchisement of all rebels for at least five years. The constitutions would have to be approved by Congress and then by a referendum where at least 50% of the vote of the 1860 election had to be gathered. After being approved, the states could not amend the constitutions for ten years at least without Congressional approval.

    The bill responded to several concerns among Republican circles, but the overreaching one was the desire to delay Reconstruction until after the end of the war. The threshold of 50% was one that no Confederate state could reach, preventing a Reconstruction like the one underway in Louisiana, Arkansas, and Tennessee. In those states Republicans charged that the “unchanged white rebels” would be the ones in charge. As Senator Howard said, the American government could not “say to the traitors, ‘all you have to do is to come back into the councils of the nation and take an oath that henceforth you will be true to the Government'”. In actuality, the requirement of an oath was not as lenient as they feared, since “Lincoln offered amnesty only to those who made a conscious decision to abandon the insurrection while it still had a chance of success”, something that, according to Carl Schurz, meant that his state government were “substantially in the control of really loyal men who had been on the side of the Union during the war”.

    One of the great problems the bill had, insofar as Lincoln was concerned, was that it did not respect the voluntarism that had become a cornerstone of Presidential Reconstruction. In this context, voluntarism refers to Lincoln’s wish that the new conventions be a result of the voluntary free will of Southerners. His Reconstruction plan was envisioned as essentially an enabling act which, despite the presence of a “few necessary conditions”, still left Southerners themselves in charge. The Congressional bill, by contrast, was clear about who was in charge – and a constitution created essentially by Congress could not be considered the fruit of the people’s will but coercion by the National power. Some Republicans maintained that Lincoln was similarly coercing the Southern states, but the President argued that, just like a “man’s house is still the fruit of his labor and will even if he builds it according to a manual”, the new constitution would still be the result of the Southern will “even if they are drafted according to the Constitution”.

    In its original form, the Reconstruction bill, also called the Southern Territories bill, was too radical for most Republicans. It was not so much the territorialization program that aggravated the moderates, for the idea commanded more than enough support to pass the bill even if several Republicans defected. Rather, it was that its terms would scrap away the governments Lincoln had already created, which, Moderates feared, would alienate the President. In practical terms, most Republicans endorsed the bill as one that would give Reconstruction a firm legal basis, that would ensure emancipation and the freedmen’s rights, and that would give the National government the capacity and power to oversee Reconstruction and assure its success. But they still did not wish to defy the President so openly.

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    James M. Ashley

    By April, as the situation in Louisiana became clearer, some Republicans were declaring Lincoln’s Reconstruction a dismal failure, such as Winter Davis, who bitterly said the new Louisiana government was merely a “hermaphrodite government, half military and half republican, representing the alligators and frogs of Louisiana”. Anti-Lincoln Congressmen like him saw no problem in a measure that scrapped those governments, but it was clear that Moderates were not going to acquiesce in that. Thus, an amendment was accepted that declared that the bill did not apply to states where Reconstruction had already started under the terms of the Quarter Plan – meaning, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Tennessee, where Constitutional Conventions were being or had been organized. Many Radicals only accepted this reluctantly, considering that allowing those government to stand would condemn the freedmen there to “enduring slavery”. But, as Senator John P. Hale said sadly, they were compelled to “waive my conscientious scruples and go for expediency”.

    At the end, it’s truly remarkable that most Republicans voted in favor of such a radical bill. Some defections did happen, but they were truly in the minority, the party having embraced limited Black suffrage, land redistribution and National oversight over Reconstruction. Most Republicans, Radical and Moderate, seemed to have sincerely believed that Lincoln could not find issue with the bill. They thought that in practical terms its dispositions were the same as those of his proclamation, and that having allowed his governments to stand the President would sign it. But Lincoln could not accept the Southern Territories bill due to irreconcilable differences. In the first place, by delaying Reconstruction until the war ended the Congress would prevent Reconstruction from working as a weapon to defeat the Confederacy. Second, Lincoln honestly considered territorialization an unconstitutional proposal that would do more harm than good, because giving the National Government so much power would make it clear that Southerners were a conquered people at the mercy of Congress; the voluntarism of his plan would, by contrast, better conciliate them to their defeat and be more in line with classical American principles. Finally, and even though the bill still gave him a major role in Reconstruction, Lincoln did not wish to accept a plan that bound him to a single course and left Congress the indisputable master of the situation.

    Lincoln vetoed the bill a little over a week after it was passed in May. The story goes that when the clerk arrived with a message, a smiling Senator Chandler asked whether it was the announcement that the President had signed it. When the clerk answered that it actually was a veto, the gaping Chandler could only stand there, “paralyzed in denial” for long minutes. When they recovered from shock, Radicals were outraged at Lincoln’s opposition to a bill that was “eminently needed and manifestly just”. An attempt to override the veto took place immediately, even though the bill had not received anywhere close to 2/3rds of the votes when it was first passed. But now it could not even gather a majority of either House, for many of the men who voted in its favor now voted against the override.

    Lincoln’s actions redefined the factions within the Republican Party. Instead of defining one’s position according to his support for Black suffrage, Black landownership and other such issues, now Radicals would be the ones against Lincoln’s program, and Moderates the ones in favor. The result was increasing the President’s influence at the expense of Radicals, who saw their power and numbers diminished. As Winter Davis grumbled, it was not that Republicans had suddenly discovered that the bill “violates the principles of republican government”. Rather, “it is the will of the President which has been discovered since”. The sting of the failure was so painful that Senator Wade and Representative Davis ended up issuing a manifesto that accused Lincoln of “executive usurpation” through a “rash and fatal act” that was a “blow to the friends of his Administration, at the rights of humanity, and at the principles of Republican Government”, that would “return to power the guilty leaders of the rebellion” and assure “the continuance of slavery”.

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    The veto of the Southern Territories Bill left Lincoln as the undisputed master of the situation

    Following the failure of the veto override, Radicals shifted their efforts towards replacing Lincoln with a candidate more amiable to their positions and taking charge of the 13th Amendment that was being drafted simultaneously, to consecrate there the principles of liberty and equality, and their vision of what Union victory meant. If Lincoln could not be replaced, Radicals were ready to create a new party and issue a challenge from his left. This meant that, even though Lincoln managed to maintain control over Reconstruction through his actions, he also galvanized a powerful anti-Lincoln movement that could divide and destroy the Republican Party if he was not careful. But this Congressional struggle was not the only reason behind this expanding breach, for the first months of 1864 also saw the Confederacy return from the brink and engage in a final, supreme bid for Southern independence that shocked the North and made many give into despair once again.
     
    Side-story: "An Indiana Jayhawker"
  • An Indiana Jayhawker

    “When Johnny comes marching home, hurrah, hurrah”, Ted sang to himself as he walked the last few miles to his house. “We’ll him a hearty welcome then, hurrah, hurrah”. He would need a hearty welcome after months of fighting in Western Kentucky. “The men will cheer, and the boys will shout!”, he sang loudly before his thoughts returned to that dreadful place and its inhumane sights and bloody scenes and monstrous people and, and – “the ladies they will all turn out!”, he finished, coming to a stop before his house.

    A little head peaked out from the second-floor window, the eyes of the boy widening in surprised joy when they landed on Ted. “Mom! Mom! Ted’s here! Ted’s here!”, he cried, jumping a few times before the window before rushing away from it. In a blink, the boy was downstairs, launching himself at his chest. “Ted, oh it’s you Ted, it’s you!”, he babbled, clutching his blue jacket. “Yeah, it’s me Laurie”, Ted replied cheerfully, his arms coming around the boy and lifting him. Mother and Father then came to the door. Mother collapsed into his arms, planting kisses on his cheeks as she sobbed. “Finally home! My boy’s home, thank the Lord!”

    After both Mother and Laurie had clutched him for a good while, Father came. His hug was brief, his words succinct, but the red rim around his eyes was unmistakable. “Welcome home, Theodore”, he said, his hand resting on his arm. “I didn’t think the Army would let you come home already. I thought they’d make you wait till your three years were over.” Ted gave a half shrug before replying. “General Schofield, before leaving for Tennessee, offered us furloughs. I think he hopes we’ll return before the next campaign, and since not much action is expected in the winter it was safe to let us go”. Mother became panicked at this. “Oh Ted, please don’t say you will return!”, she pleaded. Return? To Kentucky with its rebels, and its guerrillas, and its raids, and its massacres and its – “Ted, dear?” He shook his head and plastered a strained smile on his face, “No Mother, I won’t”.

    The commotion at the Philips house of course alerted the neighbors. Louisa, the young Rogers girl, came down her house stairs and called out in her sweet voice, “Molly, your soldier boy’s home!” before rushing towards him. A mature woman came after her, “Louisa, don’t tease your sister!”, she admonished before coming to Ted. “Oh, Teddy, I’m so glad to see you at home!”, she said as she clutched him in her arms. “My little Molly was sick with worry about you. She waits anxiously for your letters. Why don’t you write more often? If she doesn’t hear from you in a week, she gets frantic with worry! She thinks a rebel’s got you and-” that you’ve had your throat slit like John, or been hung in a tree like Greg, or have been decapitated like Edward or “-you’re wounded somewhere, you don’t know how much that scares her!”

    Just then Molly came down the stairs. She’s evidently been fussing with her hair, not expecting him to come so soon. But perfect hair or not, seeing her was like a balm for his soul. She was beautiful, and her smile was the first real ray of light he had seen in all those colds (bloody) winter months. “Ted!”, she cried, and sank into his arms. His mother and hers both looked disapprovingly at this open display of affection but said nothing. Father just smiled, and when it seemed like Mrs. Rogers was about to say something he leaned in. “Please, ma’am, the boy’s been out to the war for months. Surely a little lack of decorum can be pardoned this time?”, he said kindly. And she seemed to agree, for she stepped back and allowed Molly to hug him as if it were the last time (and it very well might be).

    The Rogers and the Philips spent the afternoon together. They shared coffee and laughs and it was almost like before the war and its bloodletting. Except that it was not, for the shadow of war loomed over them. Or did it loom only over Ted? Was it only him that grew grim when a comrade that had fallen was mentioned? Was it only him that felt a cold shiver when the rebel guerrillas were mentioned? Was it only him that couldn’t breathe and wanted to run away when Mrs. Rogers mentioned that some rebels had been seen in Southern Indiana? He remembered what had happened at that contraband camp, and suddenly his mind was torn by the images of Father and Laurie put to the knife and Molly and Louisa at the mercy of marauders like that Negro woman and her daughter when Ted just hadn’t been fast enough and- “More tea, dear?”, Mother asked. “Yes, please”, he replied, the pleasant smile returning to his face.

    He excused himself (“Oh, it’s just the march that’s got me exhausted, Mother!”) and went up to his room. Molly followed him, and of course it was unseemly because they were engaged but not married yet. But Mrs. Rogers allowed it again, perhaps thinking of all those girls who were left pinning for a sweetheart that would never return. The curve of her lip made it clear that there would be hell to pay if they stayed too long together, so they better hurry. He kissed her like it’s the last time (and it very well might be) and then renewed the vows he made when he first enlisted in the Army, even if those words felt empty and meaningless after the things he had seen. “Promise me you will write more often”, she begged, and of course he promised it, because her letters were his only source of comfort. But he feared it was a vain promise, since sometimes it was just too hard. He'd pick up his pencil and wouldn't be able to write about Southern vistas or complain about hardtack when his fingers were trembling, and his breathing was uneven after yet another raid.

    He couldn’t sleep for hours. The bed felt uncomfortable compared with his tent, and as he stared at the ceiling, he could only think of how easy it would be for a marauder to light up their house. He should know, after all he and his comrades have burned many houses throughout Western Kentucky in their attempts to burn out the hornets. He didn’t enlist because he wanted to burn houses and steal food and kill people, but because war was glorious, and he thought he would look dashing in that blue uniform at his wedding with Molly. Maybe some rebs enlisted for the same reason? Maybe the man he had shot after he tried to keep Ted from setting his house in fire was once a boy that just wanted to impress his sweetheart?

    Guilt coiled in his gut and was quickly stamped out. That man was a traitor, and if a rebel woman is crying for him she deserves it. How many rebel women feed and sheltered the guerrillas that would then go and kill Union men and boys and defenseless darkies? Ted remembered the first time he had been tasked with cleaning up a rebel town. He had been sick at the idea at expelling civilians at gun point, but his commander said they had been helping guerrillas. Still, they were just innocent women and children! Then, his regiment passed through a forest where at least twenty freedmen were hung like macabre Christmas decorations. The next time he partook in the arson, Ted did not feel sorry. He didn’t care if people back home were crying for them. People were crying for John, but that didn’t stop the guerrilla from cutting his neck open in the dark of the night and-

    “Ah!”, Ted screamed, getting to his feet, and trying to put some distance between him and the attacker. He patted his pockets, feeling for the knife that he had learned to have on him all the time. “A rebel! A rebel!”, he screamed, hoping the battalion would rally to deal with him. Maybe he was the guerrilla that slit John’s throat and had almost cut Ted’s. That must be it, he came back to his tent to finish the job, the stab wound Ted had inflicted not being enough to kill him. But this time he wouldn’t escape, this time Ted would, he would… “Ted, for God’s sake!”, a female voice cried, and it couldn’t be the Negro woman that washed their clothes because she was hung up in that forest but – “Oh God Ted! Please!”, the voice cried again, and suddenly he saw that it was Mother.

    They didn’t tell anyone about that incident. “Just a nightmare”, he and Mother would say, but Laurie’s scared face and Father’s concerned eyes said they didn’t believe it. “War Madness”, Yankee doctors had started to call it that, but that couldn’t have afflicted a real brave man like Ted, could it? The empty smile remained on his face as they spent another day pretending everything was fine. Molly came over and they talked of the wedding, but it all felt so useless and unimportant. He felt useless. What was he doing drinking tea and laughing at stories he didn’t even hear when comrades down South were being killed? As soon as the furlough was over, he’d reenlist, he decided. “A rebel, a rebel!” someone suddenly cried, and Ted almost jumped up and grabbed his rifle and rushed to the banner, but he was not at camp but at his house. The cry had been real, however, for everyone reacted. They rushed outside and saw a man surrounded by a mob.

    “I’m no rebel!”, the terrified man screamed at the mob drew nearer. “Don’t lie! We found these papers, you’re a Copperhead! Want the guerrillas to come here and kill us? Do you want that?”, demanded Mr. Howard, the town’s butcher and the leader of the local Union League. “No! No!”, he cried, “don’t listen to Howard, he’s lying! I’m no rebel!” Howard only got angrier. “But you’re a Chesnut, aren’t you?”, he demanded, and continued when the man nodded with a gulp. “That’s equal to a traitor for me! Didn’t you and your friends slaughter the people of New York!” Howard said, and the mob let out a yell in response. “Didn’t you and your friends raid those towns near the border last month?”, he added, and the mob let out another yell.

    A raid! That’s the raid Mrs. Rogers had been talking about, the one where some guerrillas crossed from Kentucky into Indiana and killed dozens of men and boys and robbed at least three towns. And that man, that dirty Copperhead, helped them! Ted rushed to the street, where the people parted upon seeing his blue uniform. Mr. Howard smirked at seeing him. “Look, the hero of the town! Aren’t you afraid reb? Here’s a soldier to deal with you!” Ted didn’t pay attention as the mob cheered him and Howard shook his hand, he only focused on the man. He looked pathetic, so terrified and shaking. But so did all rebels when the Union Army caught with them, even after laughing and cheering when they looted, burned, and killed just a few days before. And Ted knew how to deal with such men.

    “We ought to hang him!”, he said, the begging of the man silenced by the bloodthirsty screams that ensued. “I’ve seen what these men can do if they are allowed to roam free! Traitors must be exterminated!” At that moment, the mob went forward and seized the man, stabbing him and then lifting him to the lamppost, where he was given a strong hemp necktie like all traitors deserved. And the mob cheered, but Ted didn’t hear them, only watching the man as he bleed and suffocated. He remembered scenes from Kentucky, of burning towns, desecrated corpses and desperate people being cut down, and decided that it couldn’t happen there, not to Mother or Laurie or Molly. And in that moment, he decided he’d return to the Army to exterminate all traitors in order to protect them, not seeing how Mother and Laurie and Molly were crying horrified at the actions of the lynch mob he was leading.
     
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    Chapter 45: So with You My Grace Shall Deal
  • The days of the rebellion appeared numbered as the third year of the war started. The decisive victories of the summer of 1863 couldn’t be followed up with the expected final coup against the Confederacy, but Southern resources, manpower and morale had been pushed to the breaking point. The Confederate Congress had been forced to extend all enlistment terms beyond their initial three years and expanded the draft to men as young as seventeen and as old as fifty, a decision that made General Grant exclaim that they were robbing “the grave and the cradle”. Grant was far from the only Union leader who saw these weaknesses, for Lincoln and other Generals like Reynolds and Thomas could identify them too. But their hopes for a decisive victory in the first months of 1864 blinded them to the Union’s own weaknesses and allowed the Confederacy, in its last great hurrah, to launch a counterattack that pushed many Yankees into despair and pessimism once again, imperiling Lincoln’s reelection, emancipation and civil rights, and maybe the Union itself.

    In hindsight, the fate of the Rebellion was clearly sealed in the previous summer with the dismal strategic and material losses suffered in those fateful campaigns. But at the time, the Confederacy seemed still full of defiance and fight. As almost always, the eyes of both combatants were placed on the Virginia front, where they believed the decisive battle would be fought. That the ugly carnage at the Mine Run had failed to break the Army of Northern Virginia had somewhat reinvigorated the faith of the Southern soldiers on General Lee. It had also demoralized the Northerners, who had believed their foes all but defeated but now prepared for new and bloody struggles. The knowledge that Lee would not be broken so easily influenced the decision of many a veteran not to reenlist as their three-year terms came to an end in the first months of 1864. This was the first of the “flaws in the Union sword and hidden strengths in the Confederate shield” that evened the odds.

    Indeed, some of the most experienced veterans in the Army of the Susquehanna, men who had seen combat from Baltimore to Mine Run, were now slated to return home soon. The Union government had decided against following the example of the Confederacy of requiring them to stay by law. Instead, they hoped to encourage the soldiers to reenlist voluntarily, offering them a special 400-dollar bounty and a thirty-day furlough. Aside from this material reward, the government appealed to their patriotic pride by allowing reenlisting soldiers to call themselves “veteran volunteers” and declaring that regiments where at least three quarters of the soldiers reenlisted would retain their identity and unity, which created “effective peer pressure” on those reluctant to remain in the Army. A Massachusetts veteran complained of how the Union used its soldiers "just the same as they do a turkey at a shooting match, fire at it all day and if they don't kill it raffle it off in the evening; so with us, if they can't kill you in three years they want you for three more”. But, despite his war weariness, this soldier decided to reenlist.

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    Men drafted into the Army usually had lower morale and weaker commitment to the cause

    Some 136,000 veterans followed his example and reenlisted for another three-year term; a hundred thousand decided they had had enough. The Army of the Susquehanna was the most affected of all Union Armies, for only 60% of its effectives decided to reenlist. When this low reenlistment rate was coupled with its high casualty rate, the highest among all Union armies, it meant a serious reduction in its combat capacity, for the experienced veterans would have to be replaced by green conscripts. The veterans that had reenlisted often regarded these conscripts with contempt, one Pennsylvania officer even thanking “a kind providence” for the fact that his new recruits kept deserting. Those "gamblers, thieves, pickpockets and blacklegs would have disgraced the regiment beyond all recovery had they remained”, he declared.

    Altogether, the replacement of experienced veterans with green conscripts resulted in a plunge in moral, strategic readiness, and tactical capacity. All Union armies experienced these negative effects even before the veterans had left for home, because those who had decided not to reenlist usually felt an enormous aversion to taking risks during their last weeks, limiting their usefulness and damaging the morale of their comrades. The whole process, although “judicious and wise” was “like disbanding an army in the very midst of battle”, concluded General Sherman, who recognized how it weakened the Union Army at a critical juncture. By contrast, the rebel armies seemed to be quickly recovering their fighting esprit despite privations and defeats. As the Richmond Dispatch gloated, Yankee victories weren’t “producing the slightest disposition to succumb, or in the remotest degree shaking the firm and confident faith” of the rebels.

    This was not completely true. Sherman and others might have thought that “the masses” were “determined to fight it out”, when in truth a great part of the “masses” was tired of war and quickly becoming ready to accept anything to get the peace they longed for. But at the start of 1864, the great majority of White Southerners were still probably in favor of the war and willing to make sacrifices to win it. This ardor was most pronounced in the Confederate Armed Forces, compared with the civilian population. This is because “the men who were the most dedicated to the Confederacy had most readily put on uniforms and taken up arms to repel the Yankee abolitionists”. Consequently, most of the men in the Confederate Army, especially those in the Army of Northern Virginia, would have probably reenlisted voluntarily even if the law hadn’t compelled them first.

    Most rebels shared Lee’s conviction that “if victorious, we have everything to hope for in the future. If defeated, nothing will be left for us to live for”. The apprehensions of a Virginia soldier, of having “our property confiscated, our slaves emancipated, our leaders hung” and Southerners reduced to “serfs in the land of our fathers” appeared now frighteningly real due to the course the Union was charting. These fears, that had inspired secession, “only grew in power as the war lengthened, more loved ones suffered and died, and the hated enemy’s commitment to abolition, confiscation and employment of black troops increased.” With these “atrocities from which death itself is a welcome escape”, as Jefferson Davis called them, so close, the soldiers were decided to “fight the insolent invader until Dooms Day or until we have been destroyed”.

    These deeply held fears and the dedication to prevent their realization would not have been enough to motivate any army if they weren’t joined with real hope and confidence in victory. Some of this hope was based on the enduring idea that Dixie soldiers were superior to their Yankee counterparts, and that never mind temporary setbacks “the Confederacy will at once gather up its military strength and strike such blows as will astonish the world”, as John Jones declared. But in 1864 most Southerners pinned their hopes in defeating Lincoln’s reelection. “If southern armies could hold out until the election”, McPherson explains, “war weariness in the North might cause the voters to elect a Peace candidate who would negotiate Confederate independence”.

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    Copperheadism proved remarkably resilient, refusing to die and reviving in times of Union misfortune

    The only way to bring about this electoral defeat for Lincoln was in accomplishing military victories on the field. Confederate politicians and soldiers well understood that if they managed to resist the Union invaders and to make the war too costly for them in blood and treasure, they may opt for peace come the next November. A Georgia newspaper was entirely right when it observed that whether Lincoln "shall ever be elected or not depends upon . . . the battlefields of 1864”; from the same state, a soldier said that “If the tyrant at Washington be defeated his infamous policy will be defeated with him.” Consequently, Lee, his soldiers, and his lieutenants, intended to “resist manfully” the next Yankee offensive. "If we can break up the enemy's arrangements early, and throw him back,” said Longstreet, “he will not be able to recover his position or his morale until the Presidential election is over, and then we shall have a new President to treat with”.

    Naturally, the Union’s leaders were unwavering in their resolve to crush these hopes by crushing the Confederates first. The months between the Battle of Mine Run and the New Year had been filled with anxiety and dismay. Oversanguine Northerners had pinned unrealistic hopes on Reynolds, and when instead they were met with that slaughter, where the Union suffered 50% more casualties, they couldn’t help but turn despondent. Proof of low Northern spirits were that wistful war songs like “When this Cruel War is Over” seemed more popular than joyful carols that Christmas. “Oh, how many homes are ‘weeping sad and lonely’ because Reynolds couldn’t march to Richmond!”, bemoaned newspapers that just last spring were hailing him. The General, who not only never learned how to play politics but actively refused to on principle, was not capable of dealing effectively with such waspish criticism.

    Even worse, some of that criticism was coming from Lincoln himself, who, instead of keeping his promise of not meddling, constantly inquired about Reynolds’ plans, and reminded him of the people’s clamor for a battle. Reynolds could not help but feel that the President was being unfair, criticizing him from a position of military ignorance and, instead of shielding him from political meddling, being the main exponent of it. Though Lincoln’s relationship with Reynolds never soured to the point it had with McClellan, differences in temperament and expectations between the two men did prevent the Union war machine from working as well as it might have otherwise. At the very least, it meant that the Breckinridge-Lee team was more united and mutually supportive than Lincoln and Reynolds were.

    One thing in which the President and his General were in full agreement was that Lee’s Army and not Richmond was the “objective point”. Consequently, the plans drafted were meant to reach Lee and force him into battle. After Mine Run, the Army of Northern Virginia had taken a position along the Rapidan, which although an excellent defensive line had stretched the rebels thinly due to their dwindling numbers. Forced to man a 25-mile-long line, the graybacks would find it difficult if not impossible to prevent the Federals from crossing the river. “The animal must be very slim somewhere,” Lincoln observed. “Could you not break him?” But Lee understood how precarious his position was too and started to plan an offensive-defensive counterstroke that would force Reynolds to face him on his terms. “A constant readiness to seize any opportunity to strike a blow,” Lee proclaimed to Breckinridge, “will . . . thwart the enemy in concentrating his different armies and compel him to conform his movements to our own.”

    The opportunity seemed to present itself in “that vale of Union sorrows”, the Shenandoah Valley. A Confederate offensive against the demoralized and understrength Army of the Valley could relieve the pressure on Lee and interfere with Reynolds’ plans. That was what had happened, after all, in previous Valley Campaigns. In the interest of repeating history Lee even assigned Jackson to the Valley, where he would face enemies he had already beaten. Indeed, and despite his previous failures, General Siegel was in command of the Union forces there. Breckinridge agreed to the plan, moving the Richmond garrison and some North Carolina coastal units into the Army of Northern Virginia, to make up for the lost of Jackson’s corps, which advanced into the Valley in January.

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    Franz Siegel was a political general appointed and retained mostly to maintain the loyalty of German Republicans

    The new Valley campaign was so like the first two that it was almost comedic. As before, the feared Stonewall was able to outmaneuver and dazzle his Union opponents, with the help of his hardy foot cavalry and the support of the guerrillas that swarmed the area. The demoralized garrison at Front Royal, dishonorably enough, surrendered quickly after it was encircled by one such combination. In another farcical repetition of history, Jackson easily defeated Siegel at Winchester in March, capturing the large supplies there – one of the soldiers even joked that Siegel should, like Banks, also be nicknamed “Commissary”. Altogether, the whole campaign had been such a dishonorable fiasco on the Union side that a reporter even refused to write about it, instead telling his readers they should just read the dispatches of the last campaign. It was the “same story of dishonor, of idiocy, of cowardice, so painful we cannot bear to repeat it”.

    This new Valley defeat had caused not only embarrassment in the North, but also panic. Mounting fears over a “Second Invasion” caused such alarm that there were riots in Maryland and lynchings in Pennsylvania. In truth, Jackson had pushed the health of his corps to the breaking point, with the forced marches during the winter resulting in serious outbreaks of disease that precluded any further campaigning. Jackson’s quiet retreat to Virginia in April was perhaps not triumphant, but he had accomplished all his strategic objectives. Reacting to the initial invasion in January, Reynolds ordered a corps under General Slocum to Harpers’ Ferry, while militia meant to reinforce the Army of the Susquehanna was instead posted at the Potomac, all these reinforcements not rejoining the main command until months afterwards. More importantly, the Valley offensive pushed Reynolds to rush his attack.

    Taking advantage of a seeming break in the harsh winter weather, Reynolds tried to flank the Rapidan line from the West, advancing through Madison County. But this hasty movement resulted in an even more embarrassing fiasco, the inglorious “Mud March”. Showing that apparently even the Almighty was against the Union, a few days after the march started “the heavens opened, rain fell in torrents, and the Virginia roads turned into swamps”. Artillery and wagons sank hopelessly into the mud, with triple teams of horses unable to even budge them. Some men were even threatened with drowning as the mud rose to their shoulders and to the ears of their mules. The only part of the Army to avoid this fate was William French’s corps – which, in its haste to flee the mud moved too far away from the main body and was easily routed by Lee’s troops. Though the attack on French’s command was not followed up because the rebels were afraid of sinking into the mud too, it completed the Yankees’ humiliation.

    At Philadelphia, Lincoln was completely dismayed. The President of course knew that Reynolds could not control the weather, but he still was impatient for a triumph, deeply aware that such disasters as the Valley and the Mud March were already sending the Northerners into despair. A grim Reynolds promised that he would force Lee into that fight as soon as the roads dried up. It took almost two months, until March, for the weather to improve. By then Reynolds was ready, his campaign getting off to an auspicious start. With both a new Peninsula Campaign and an attack through the Wilderness out of question, the new offensive would focus on taking Fredericksburg, a strong position protected by the Rappahannock.

    The Confederate lines were undermanned, and when the Federal cavalry under Bayard advanced to take Fredericksburg’s crossings, its rebel counterpart under Stuart found it hard to concentrate quick enough. A furious clash followed, but even though Stuart managed to repudiate most of Bayard’s troopers, Reynolds and the Union infantry had managed to cross the river and seize the high ground. When Lee’s infantry under Jubal Early belatedly arrived, they were unable to dislodge their foes, leaving Lee with no other option but to retreat towards Spotsylvania Court House.

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    The Battle of Spotsylvania Court House

    Reynolds immediately gave chase. Jackson’s corps was still busy in the Valley, and though that meant that some of his units were still there too, Reynolds still enjoyed numerical superiority. This was the chance of fighting Lee he was waiting for, and he was not going to throw it away. Unfortunately, the hurry to fight Lee kept Reynolds from seeing the strength of the trenches the rebel commander had built along the Ni River. This was not the first time trench warfare was employed in the Civil War, but the battle demonstrated their usefulness by making Reynolds initial bold charge come to bloody grief. But Reynolds was undaunted, sending his troops in a flanking maneuver the following day. Lee’s trenches at Laurel Hill again held up, and despite the heavy casualties suffered, the Battle at Spotsylvania could only be considered a Confederate victory.

    A dogged Reynolds was not willing to disengage just yet. It was clear that the next defensive position would be the North Anna River, twenty-five miles to the south. Reynolds hoped he would be able to strike Lee before he reached the river, sending in Hancock’s corps. Covered by the dimming light and Bayard’s troopers, Hancock managed to get to the side of Lee’s advancing column, suddenly jumping between Ewell and Early, capturing hundreds of prisoners. But what little light remained disappeared quickly, creating confusion and disorganization in the ranks of both armies as soldiers could hardly see who they were shooting at. “I believe that most of our men fell by the fire of their own comrades”, a Union soldier said after the battle, himself the victim of one of the numerous tragic friendly fire incidents suffered that night. Nonetheless, Hancock had managed to inflict some 3,800 casualties on the rebels at the cost of merely 1,300 casualties, a clear victory.

    However, Lee obtained a consolation prize: the capture of one of Reynolds couriers. The information the youth carried made Lee realize that Reynolds was farther to the south than previously thought, which in turn resulted in Lee deciding against a counterattack, instead rushing to the North Anna position. Reynolds, for his part, did not move just yet. Believing that Hancock had lost, he backtracked. This not only prevent him from following up Hancock’s victory but resulted in Lee winning the race to the North Anna. There, the rebels quickly dug a line of trenches to protect the Hanover Junction, which extended from the Chesterfield Bridge to the pivotal Virginia Central Railroad. The strong bluffs at the center Ox Ford would force Reynolds to attack the flanks, either the dirt fort at the bridge or the crossing at Jericho Mills.

    Union probes at both the Ox Ford and Jericho Mills were unsuccessful, but a corps under Meade managed to overwhelm Ewell’s hastily dug trenches and the poorly designed fort. Ewell suffered basically a mental breakdown, screaming hysterically for the men to rally. It was ultimately Longstreet, and not Ewell’s cries, that managed to prevent the disintegration of the Confederate flank, but Meade had still gained a bridgehead. Not to be outdone, General Sedgwick, supported by Doubleday, advanced into Jericho Mills. The more capable Jubal Early managed to strike his flank, inflicting heavy casualties, but Sedgwick had nonetheless managed to establish a bridgehead too.

    By then the mounting casualties of 30% had reduced the Army of Northern Virginia to merely 31,000 men, but there was no possibility of abandoning Hanover Junction. At night, Lee organized his army into an inverted V, its apex situated at the Ox Ford. This brilliant coup, courtesy of Lee’s principal engineer, would create an almost impregnatable defensive position, demonstrating for future generations the power of trenches. For their part, the Yankees had also suffered great losses, and were now feeling the strain of several weeks of campaigning. “Their uniforms were now torn, ragged, and stained with mud; the men had grown thin and haggard”, commented a soldier. “The experience of these days seems to have added twenty years to their age.” Mindful of this, Reynolds allowed his troops some rest. The second day then was only filled with skirmishing, albeit of unusual intensity.

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    The Battle of North Anna

    But at 4:00 am on the third day, the Union corps got into position, and advanced at the sound of three salvos shot into the air. The still morning gave way to a great battle cry, as the Army of the Susquehanna, exhausted and bloodied as it was, advanced with determination and enthusiasm. “A cheer, that has been heard on nearly every battle-field in Virginia, went up from 60,000 brave hearts, white and black, and told the story to friend and foe that the Army of the Susquehanna was on a charge and pushing for the main works of the enemy,” reported a Vermont captain. According to a colonel, the Union war cry, a “full, deep, mighty cheer" that expressed "defiance, force, fury, determination, and unbounded confidence . . . swept away all lingering fears and doubts from every manly breast like mists before the whirlwind.” But this glorious moment quickly lost its luster, as Meade’s troops got bogged down in chilly swamps, green conscripts skedaddled from the battlefield, and charges stalled with the commanders unable to force the hesitant troops forward.

    One of the ugliest episodes of the war ensued when Doubleday’s USCT troops managed to take a rebel breastwork. Either brave or insane, the soldiers leapt over the trenches and managed to capture sections of it. But the battle quickly deteriorated into savage hand to hand combat, “an unmitigated slaughter, a Golgotha without a vestige of the ordinary pomp and circumstances of glorious war”. The Black soldiers, as in previous engagements, showed they could fight and die as bravely as their White comrades and foes. But this did not earn the rebels’ respect, but only their hatred. Claiming that they had declared “no quarter”, and because “their presence excited in the troops indignant malice”, the rebels “disregarded the rules of warfare which restrained them in battle with their own race and brained and butchered the blacks until the slaughter was sickening.” The singular savagery of the fight is best illustrated by the fact that this testimony came from a Confederate.

    Confederate resistance may not have been as savage in other sectors, but it was just as violent and ferocious. Murderous fire cut down whole blue regiments, making green conscript and veterans in their last weeks run for the rear. By dawn, a sickened John Sedgwick allowed his soldiers to fall back. At the same time as this lessened the pressure, a stray shell fell on the tent of General Hancock. The resulting explosion knocked Hancock unconscious. With its commander hors combat, the II Corps found itself leaderless, confused, and desperate. The opportunity was clear, and it was quickly seized by Longstreet. In a charge spearheaded by the Texas brigade under the aggressive John Bell Hood, Meade was forced back. The retreat was at first orderly. Then, the panicked men of Hancock’s corps ran by, making their comrades despair and decide to quickly flee too. A rout had started.

    At that moment Reynolds appeared on the field. Holding up the American flag, the commander decided to lead the reserve to stop the rout. His inspirational, brave actions motivated the reserve into a mighty charge that pushed Longstreet back. And then a sharpshooter shot Reynolds' horse from below him. Panic quickly spread through the Union ranks. The USCT regiment, which despite the slaughter was still holding into the rebel position desperately, was finally forced back, those who remained behind being quickly and sadistically executed. Meade, too, retreated from his position, believing it necessary to prevent another rout. Finally, the senior commander, Sedgwick, took charge and ordered a general retreat towards Fredericksburg.

    Bitter recriminations followed the Federals as they retreated. Doubleday insisted that he could have carried the rebel flank had Meade remained in his position and had he received reinforcements. Furious at the slaughter faced by his men, he all but accused Meade of being a murderer and a racist. Or at least that was what the thin-skinned Meade heard. A shouting match ensued, again completing the humiliation felt by the Army of the Susquehanna as it limped northward. The Army had lost 14,500 casualties to the rebels’ 7,500, much of the disparity owed to the massacre of Black troops left behind during the retreat. In total, the entire campaign had costed 32,000 casualties, or 37.7% of the Army of the Susquehanna. The Confederates lost 22,500 men, a proportionally higher 48% of their Army. But grieving Northerners were not consoled by percentages as they read the seemingly endless casualty lists.

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    John Sedgwick

    That the campaign had accomplished nothing but the slaughter of thousands in terrifying scenes was keenly felt. “These nearly two weeks have contained all of fatigue & horror that war can furnish”, commented Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. This despair was shared by the President. As in previous campaigns, Lincoln haunted the telegraph offices, and when news came of the grievous losses and the subsequent retreat, he sank into a chair and exclaimed “Why do we suffer reverses after reverses! Oh, it is terrible, terrible, this weakness, this indifference of our Susquehanna generals, with such armies of good and brave men!” By contrast, Richmond was “ablaze with joy upon learning that Lee had once again driven away the invader”, the happy citizens leading a throng to serenade Breckinridge.

    At the same time as the Virginia campaign came to grief, the Georgia front was approaching a similarly unhappy conclusion. As in the East, this debacle was a result of a host of unfortunate circumstances, from the replacement of veterans with conscript to a maladroit shuffling in the military command. The seeds of the ensuing disasters were planted last year when the aborted offensive towards Dalton left the Lincoln administration greatly disappointed in General Thomas. Dark whispers circulated in Philadelphia, saying that he had turned out to be another McClellan, and even accusing him of being a secret traitor. That Thomas had failed to build up his reputation and connections in the capital was clear in the fury of both Stanton and Lyons at his lack of action.

    “The patience of the government is exhausted”, Lyons wired. “It is said that, like McClellan after Washington, you have been unable to follow up your previous victories. The pressure for your removal is growing”. Lincoln privately vented similar frustrations, and, on Stanton’s recommendation, turned to General John M. Schofield to dynamize the department. Born in New York, Schofield grew up in Illinois, before securing an appointment to West Point. Dismissed from the academy due to a disciplinary matter, Schofield managed to get the Board of Inquiry to reconsider with the help of Senator Stephen A. Douglas. The board accepted Schofield’s appeal, with the lone vote against coming from then Lieutenant George H. Thomas.

    This incident may have not only informed Schofield’s latent conservatism, but also his constant criticism of Thomas. Originally assigned to Missouri, Schofield worked as the right hand man to Lyons, who was impressed by his “conspicuous gallantry” and his efforts in favor of Missouri Unionists. After Lyons went East, Schofield remained in charge of defending Missouri, which he did competently but conservatively, managing to maintain some order amidst the bloody bush war. In the summer of 1863, Schofield managed to turn back an ill-conceived attack led by Sterling Price with minimal Union casualties. Seeing in this general the fighter that Thomas was not, Stanton and Lyons both urged Lincoln to place him in a more prominent place. Following the battle of Dalton, Schofield was assigned command of the Department of the Ohio, encompassing Kentucky and, critically, all of Tennessee.

    This shuffle meant that many regiments that had been under Thomas’ command were now transferred to Schofield, including most of the rear-guard troops that had been protecting his supply lines from guerrillas. The War Department justified the change by arguing that those guerrillas operated in both Kentucky and Tennessee, and thus it was more logical for Schofield to focus on them while Thomas could focus on Georgia. Brushing aside Thomas’ protests, the War Department ordered him to make a move soon, to coincide with Reynolds’ expected offensive. Thomas again protested, pointing to the unpredictable weather, and asking to postpone the offensive until March. But an irate Lyons snapped back that he had had “enough time standing around doing nothing”, and that he had to move lest Johnston be able to send reinforcements to Lee.

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    John M. Schofield

    Though Thomas obeyed orders and prepared to advance, apprehensions remained within the War Department that the advance would stall yet again. Schofield’s continuous and unsubtle lobbying then finally bore fruit, as Philadelphia granted him permission to assemble an Army and march it to Chattanooga to support Thomas’ offensive. This Army was to be independent of Thomas’ command in all but the broadest strategic points. To add insult to injury, Thomas first found about this when he read a dispatch from the New York Times that lavished pride on Schofield for having “inspired the whole West with enthusiastic faith in his courage, uniting energy with military skill”. His protests again came to naught, for Thomas simply didn’t have the necessary clout and had lost too much goodwill by his delays, whether they were justified or not.

    Shortly after the New Years, Schofield arrived at Thomas’ headquarters. What Thomas didn’t know, but probably suspected, was that Schofield had been given secret orders to assume command of the Army of the Cumberland should Thomas falter. That explained the frosty reception Schofield received by Thomas and his subordinates. An awkward meeting ensued, as Thomas proposed to follow the Snake Creek Gap plan he had been unable to put into operation last fall, which entailed a feint towards Dalton followed by an advance towards Resaca. Jealous of his newfound independence, Schofield refused to consider playing second fiddle to Thomas, insisting instead on swinging through Northern Alabama into Rome, Georgia. Seizing this critical railroad terminus would then force Johnston to retreat towards Atlanta, lest he was cut off.

    Thomas and Schofield struggled to choose a plan, and at the end decided instead to execute both at the same time. Schofield made the first move, advancing towards Rome. Johnston was alerted of the move by his cavalry. Though at first he had hoped that Cleburne could come to his aid, a military buildup near Mobile made the Irishman unwilling to abandon his command. A panicked Johnston then immediately decided to evacuate Dalton, surprising Burnside who had just arrived to demonstrate against Dalton as ordered by Thomas. The affable federal had been sent to Georgia leading a corps of green conscript, a move Lyon permitted to both placate Thomas and bolster his chances. Mistakenly believing that Johnston was fleeing from him, Burnside hurled his corps at Johnston. But the piecemeal attacks carried out by inexperienced draftees unsurprisingly failed, causing a 4 to 1 disparity in casualties.

    By the time Thomas arrived, he found only a few scores of stragglers. This was disappointing to the Yankees, but in Richmond Breckinridge was aghast at how Johnston had retreated without even trying to fight first. In response to a prodding telegraph by Secretary Davis, Johnston assured his government that “I have earnestly sought for an opportunity to strike the enemy” and would soon do so. And yet, when Thomas approached again Johnston just retreated once more, yielding up 25 miles south of Resaca without a fight. Some Confederates seemed to consider this a masterful sacrifice of territory in exchange of time, which was also drawing the Federals deeper into a hostile country where Johnston could easily destroy them. “Time is victory to us and death to our enemies”, the Richmond Sentinel stated confidently. But Breckinridge and Davis were afraid that there was nothing behind Johnston’s actions except reluctance to fight, and that he would never make a stand as promised.

    These fears where shared by Georgia Governor Brown. Arguing that Atlanta was “almost as important” to the Confederacy “as the heart is to the human body”, Brown demanded to concentrate all available troops and either send them as reinforcements to Johnston, or into Tennessee, where they could cut Thomas’ overextended supply lines and either delay or stop him. A bristling Davis replied that Brown could not “decide on the value of the service to be rendered by troops in distant positions”. But at least someone else thought that Brown’s plan was both practicable and threatening – Schofield. The Yankee general had arrived in Rome, but a rebel deserter and rumors gathered by Union spies said that Cleburne was going to thrust into Nashville.

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    Atlanta during the Civil War

    After failing to verify whether the information was true or not, Schofield prudently decided to link up with Thomas. Reports that Forrest’s cavalrymen were gathering in Northern Alabama, and the evident importance of maintaining their supply lines, made the commanders decide to send reserves to Tennessee and post additional troops along their supply lines. The number of men protecting the Yankee rail communications by then was nearly equal to the number of front-line soldiers, yet another factor diminishing the Union’s advantages. Happily for the bluejackets, the concentration of Union forces in his front made Johnston decide to retreat once again, falling back across the Etowah River.

    For Breckinridge, this was the final straw. In less than two weeks Johnston, without fighting a single battle, had given up 45 miles of ground and allowed the enemy to get halfway to Atlanta. Telling Davis sadly that “Johnston has failed and there are strong indications that he will abandon Atlanta”, the President decided to bolster the Army of Tennessee and inject necessary fighting spirit into it sending two hard-fighting generals there as reinforcements. The first was Cleburne, who, taking advantage of how Grant too had to let go of whole corps, slipped to Atlanta. The second one was Longstreet. Reynolds had just been pushed back at the North Anna, and since Jackson had returned from the Valley Breckinridge thought it safe to transfer him West. Before Longstreet left, Breckinridge took him to the side and emphasized that the Confederacy desperately needed a counterattack to save Atlanta and thus itself. Breckinridge was in fact giving Longstreet carte blanche to act even if Johnston demurred.

    Lincoln and Breckinridge had now both shuffled their decks, and when the cards were down it turned out that the rebel leader had drawn the better hand. Indeed, and despite Johnston’s resentful uncooperativeness, the genial Longstreet had been able to ingratiate himself to the other commanders and start to draft plans for a counterattack. Meanwhile, Thomas and Schofield could still not cooperate, both putting in operation separate plans against Johnston’s line at the Allatoona Mountains. Neither was able to flank the rebels, and both suffered a terrible disparity in casualties during their initial probes. Seeing an opportunity, Johnston authorized General Polk to strike Thomas’ right flank. But the attack was poorly executed and was furthermore delayed by the gallant defense conducted by Philipp Sheridan. Before long another Union column arrived and Polk was the one who was hit in the flank, forcing his bloodied corps to retreat.

    Previous to this setback, Johnston had issued a proclamation where he promised that Polk’s flanking attack was the beginning of the awaited counterattack. “We will now meet the foe’s advancing columns and hurl them from our soil”, Johnston promised. “Soldiers, I lead you to battle.” According to a private, “the soldiers were jubilant” at hearing the order: “We were going to whip and rout the Yankees”. But after Polk failed, Johnston immediately lost his nerve and retreated yet again, this time to Marietta. The soldiers could scarcely believe this; even Johnston’s own chief of staff wrote that “I could not restrain my tears when I found we would not fight”. For their part, the other commanders were furious. That’s when the Army of Tennessee linked up with Longstreet’s reinforcements, Johnston finding just then of Breckinridge’s orders. Discord ensued, as Johnston found Breckinridge’s actions to be a double-faced insult, a “cold ungentlemanly attack on my honor as an officer”.

    Disagreements were also brewing in the Yankee ranks. The feared offensive into Tennessee by Forrest’s troopers had at last materialized, forcing Thomas and Schofield to send even more reinforcement west. By then the Army of the Ohio was little more than a corps, too small to act independently. Begrudgingly, Schofield accepted to cooperate more closely with Thomas, but angling for overall command, he still sent telegraphs to Philadelphia complaining of “generals who mistook strategy for doing nothing”. Perhaps conscious that his command was on the line, Thomas decided to gamble it all in a risky operation. Ordering General Negley’s corps to demonstrate against Johnston’s front, Thomas planned to swing the bulk of his army to the rebel’s right flank.

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    Battle of Manrietta

    The plan was risky because it left the forces in the front isolated and without reserves. But if successful, the Union soldiers could cross the Chattahoochee River, which would result in the Federals being closer to Atlanta than the Confederates, leaving Johnston no choice but to fight. Afraid of this possibility, Johnston, predictably and disappointingly, prepared to simply withdraw again. This was more than enough for the other commanders. In an act that Johnston and those sympathetic to him would forever denounce as rank insubordination and usurpation, Cheatham, Cleburne, and Longstreet refused to move, and prepared to make a stand right there and then.

    In the evening light, three Union corps under Generals McCook, Burnside and Schofield advanced towards the Confederate right. Alerted by rebel scouts in the Big Kennesaw, the Southern units moved to intercept them. The first fight started between Schofield and Cheatham, whose resistance managed to stall the blue advance. At the same time, McCook clashed with Cleburne atop Black Jack Mountain, the experienced troops on both sides fighting ferociously. Burnside’s corps, made of green troops, launched an attack at Soap Creek that was stopped by Longstreet’s veterans. As night fell, the result was stalemate, neither Army being able to push the other back. But Thomas’ wide movement had left him right next to his objective of the Chattahoochee River. Even if he didn’t accomplish a tactical victory, a strategic triumph was still a possibility.

    And then the Yankee plans started to unravel. Afraid that the Confederate forces could surge forward and cut off the railroads, Schofield started to shift to the west and closer to Negley. He asked McCook to shift west too, and, even though Schofield was not in command of him, McCook obliged, merely informing Thomas through a courier that got lost in the night and would only arrive the next day. These ill-conceived movements created a gap in the Federal line between McCook and Burnside, but before Thomas could solve the issue the rebels advanced. At first unaware of the gap, Longstreet and Cleburne were delighted to find this opportunity. Just as Thomas was conferring with McCook, a powerful attack hit the corps on the side, sending the Yankees flying. Among the casualties was McCook, who was wounded and captured when a rebel regiment suddenly burst into his campground. Thomas, for his part, had managed to ride away, but in the confusion, few knew that he had escaped and rumors that he had been captured, or even murdered, swept the Union forces.

    With Thomas apparently lost, Schofield took command, as his orders from Philadelphia permitted. The rout had resulted in heavy casualties and the army was panicked and weary, which made Schofield decide to retreat. But the remnants of McCook’s corps were leaderless and still under attack. Decided to prevent a complete rout, Philipp Sheridan started to rally the men with much energy and even more profanity. That’s when Thomas “like a vision you dare not hope is true”, appeared, none for the worst except for a wound where a bullet had grazed his leg. Immediately Sheridan rode out, shouting “Thomas lives! Stop running God damn you, Thomas lives!” The men, who had fallen into despair when they thought their leader was dead, now found themselves imbued with new fighting spirit. Hats went into the air and cheers resounded before Sheridan quieted them down. “God damn you, don’t cheer!”, he shouted. "If you love your country, come up to the front! . . . There's lots of fight in you men yet! Come up, God damn you! Come up!"

    Quickly retaking charge, Thomas ordered his commanders to stand “like a rock” and counterattack, the charge being spearheaded by Negley. But unfortunately, the conflicting orders confused the Army, as some soldiers and officers still believed that Thomas had died and thus continued to retreat as Schofield had ordered. The result was that Schofield was leaving the battlefield, Burnside was practically paralyzed, and an unsupported Negley only managed to get a bloody nose. This in turn allowed Cheatham to hammer Schofield, while Cleburne and Longstreet launched a desperate attack against both Sheridan and Burnside. Despite the fact that their hasty trenches were not completed, they withstood the Confederate advance. But Schofield’s withdrawal had isolated Thomas, who, nonetheless, refused to run until the night despite continuous waves of Southern attacks. “Phil”, the Virginian said when Sheridan pointed that they had no more reserves, “I know of no better place to die than right here".

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    Sheridan rallying the troops

    But no matter Thomas’ decisiveness, the situation was turning hopeless. At that moment a column of dust was spotted. Tense minutes passed while a soldier tried to discern whether the enemy’s reinforcements were coming to strike their rear. “It’s the Colored flag!”, the soldier exclaimed in relief. Indeed, the USCT corps under General Palmer was approaching to relieve Thomas’ besieged force. John M. Palmer, a founder of the Illinois Republican Party and a Radical, was a competent officer but prickly about rank. Loyal to Thomas, Palmer detested Schofield, not only because he was junior in rank to him, but also because he found all the political scheming Schofield had conducted to be dishonorable. When Schofield assumed command temporally, Palmer had refused to obey him and instead was going to counterattack when news that Thomas was alive but in great peril reached him. Through a forced march, Palmer and his USCT troops arrived in the nick of time and saved Thomas from a final Confederate wave.

    Still, and despite this last-minute save, the Army of the Cumberland had been badly bloodied and was completely confused and demoralized. If Johnston decided to launch an all-out attack, it might break down. The disparity in casualties, of 16,000 Federals to 11,000 rebels, was disheartening, and the odds of the Yankees driving the rebels away after taking such punishment were nil. Recognizing this, at nighttime, Thomas ordered a general retreat to Acworth, but a pursue by a dogged Cheatham forced the Army to continue its retreat to Allatoona. There Schofield even proposed to abandon the pass, but Thomas refused. However, this last suggestion completed the break between Schofield and Thomas. The commanders, loyal to Thomas, all were rather furious with Schofield as well – Palmer believed him a coward and a schemer, Negley blamed him for the senseless attack against Johnston’s front, and Sheridan thought he had been too willing to believe the rumors that Thomas was dead in his haste for assuming command.

    The two main Union offensives during the first months of 1864 thus ended in bloody failure. A host of factors explain this result, from discord within the command structure, to the need to divert thousands of troops to fight guerrillas, and principally the replacement of thousands of veterans with green conscripts. By contrast, the Confederates enjoyed the advantages of fighting on their own territory, with shorter interior lines and powerful defensive positions manned by experienced and motivated veterans. Consequently, the Union had been unable to make any significant advances towards either Richmond or Atlanta and had paid dearly in treasure and blood. Of course, its material superiority meant that it could replace its losses quite easily, while conversely the Confederacy could not afford the also grievous losses it sustained. But in its spite of their cost, these blows accomplished a collapse in Northern morale and a resurge in Southern spirits that might just carry the Confederacy to independence.

    “Who [is] so blind,” a Virginian thundered as Reynolds was driven back, “as not to be able to see the hand of a merciful and protective God” in accomplishing this “wonderful deliverance of our army and people from the most powerful conflagrations ever planned for our destruction!” A Georgia newspaper was just as exuberant when it declared that Thomas “has been successfully halted in his mad career and Gen. Johnston has said to him, ‘Thus far shall thou come, and no further.’” Unless the situation changed, Lincoln would probably be defeated next November, if he was even renominated, that is. Republicans were “discouraged, weary, and faint-hearted”, while buoyed by these failures the Copperheads seemed to revive and regroup behind a platform that called for “an honorable peace”. “Who shall revive the withered hopes that bloomed at the opening of this year’s campaigns?”, asked the New York World for example.

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    John M. Palmer

    It was to try and revive those hopes, and to plan a strategy that might carry the Union to victory in the summer, that Lincoln decided to pay a visit to General Reynolds’ headquarters. The General was to meet with him and General in-chief Lyons. After dealing with Reynolds, the President also hoped to meet with Thomas and straighten-out what he sardonically called one of his “family controversies”. Jumping around in crutches due to the broken leg he suffered when his horse was shot from under him, an undaunted Reynolds arrived at the small Fredericksburg house where Lincoln and his party were staying. In a fateful decision, the General ordered his military guard to patrol around the block. This was done in the interest of privacy, but it meant that this reunion of the Union’s leaders was to be guarded just by one soldier, who went off to get drunk, and the brawny Ward Hill Lamon, who accompanied Lincoln as his bodyguard. None of the men present seemed to consider that a problem at all. And three men outside considered it a blessing, for it allowed them to enter the house to try and decapitate the Union. A few minutes later, shots were fired and by the time soldiers rushed into the building four men laid dead.
     
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    Chapter 46: If God Wills that It Continue
  • “Doesn’t it strike you as queer that I, who couldn’t cut the head off of a chicken, and who was sick at the sight of blood, should be cast into the middle of a great war, with blood flowing all about me?”, asked President Lincoln once of a representative, his musings reflective of how the degeneration of war had resulted in scenes of massacre, looting and human suffering far beyond what he could have feared or expected. General Grant, who likewise hated blood and in the quiet moments after battles often wept at the loss of life, may have once pondered a similar question. His theater of the war was not the bloodiest or the most savage, inhuman atrocities having long since extended all over the United States. What set Grant’s territory along the Mississippi apart was not the bloody scenes, but the sheer geographical size, which made enforcing peace and order a tall task indeed.

    Following the surrender of Port Hudson in August, General Cleburne took command over the remnants of the Army of Mississippi. Unable to conduct further military operations, the Irishman retreated to Morton and decided to rely on raids to keep Grant from going on the offensive. These raids succeeded in this objective, for Grant could not, for both political and military reasons, allow them to go uncontested. Continuous raiding and guerrilla activity made the Union’s control over the Mississippi Valley tenuous and difficult. “A standing Army of a million men . . . with a soldier posted at every house and at every farm”, would have been necessary, according to a Yankee colonel, to ensure complete Union control and to prevent every violent act. Grant, obviously, did not have a million men. Outside of fortified spots, where the presence of the American flag and blue troops dissuaded the foe, Confederate raiders inaugurated a reign of terror.

    The methods employed are so familiar in their brutality that their repetition could seem tedious, but it is necessary to acknowledge the political aims behind these abominable acts. Historiography has tried to wash away the many terrible crimes committed as the work of a few rogues, but in truth the whole Confederacy was committed to the vindication of the social and political system of slavery, and to guard against the Union’s Radical Revolution through appalling tactics. Massacres and giant “Negro hunting” raids that sought to reenslave the freedmen are examples. In this, the Confederates had the full support of a civilian population that clothed, fed, and encouraged them. A young soldier told his father of how White Mississippi women told them to “kill the negroes” as they marched, an encouragement the brigade “did not need to make them give ‘no quarter’”, for it was “understood amongst us that we take no negro prisoners”.

    From the latter half of 1863 on, wholesale massacres of Black soldiers started to happen with dreadfully increasing frequency. In early 1864, Forrest perpetrated one of the worst crimes of the Civil War during a raid against Fort Pillow, on the Mississippi river. Overwhelming a garrison “made up in about equal parts of white Tennessee unionists and black recruits”, Forrest’s men proceeded to massacre hundreds of soldiers even after they had surrendered. “God damn you”, a rebel said in anger, “You are fighting against your master”. Even a Confederate sergeant declared that “the slaughter was awful”, remembering how “The poor, deluded, negroes would run up to our men, fall upon their knees, and with uplifted hands scream for mercy but they were ordered to their feet and then shot down”. Soldiers were mercilessly executed or hacked to death, and even wounded men were slain in their hospital beds.

    A Confederate private said he was “glad that Forrest had it in his power to execute such swift & summary vengeance upon the negroes”, while the rebel commander himself boasted of how the Mississippi River was “dyed with the blood of the slaughtered for 200 yards”, something that should “demonstrate to the northern people that negro soldiers cannot cope with Southerners”. A similarly ghastly incident took place in Plymouth, North Carolina, where “all the negroes found in blue uniform or with any outward marks of a Union soldier upon him was killed”, according to a report that also detailed the many cruel manners in which they were executed: “I saw some taken into the woods and hung—Others I saw stripped of all their clothing, and they stood upon the bank of the river with their faces riverwards and then they were shot—Still others were killed by having their brains beaten out by the butt end of the muskets in the hands of the Rebels.”

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    The Fort Pillow Massacre

    Instead of being horrified by these events, Confederates applauded them. The Richmond Examiner urged Southern troops to “Repeat Fort Pillow. Repeat Plymouth a few more times and we shall bring the Yankees to their senses”. In Southern minds, Black people were inhuman savages who had to be exterminated lest they exterminated White Southerners first. When mostly Black Union regiments tried to take Olustee, Florida, the commander so told his soldiers, saying the Yankee force was “made up largely of negroes from Georgia and South Carolina, who have come to steal, pillage, run over the state, and murder, kill, and rape our wives, daughters and sweethearts.” Heeding his words, the Confederates gave no quarter and massacred hundreds. A point of Confederate apologia has been that Breckinridge opposed these measures, one oft-told story saying that when an impetuous soldier bragged in his presence of how he had “shot many niggers”, the President “with blazing eyes and thunderous tones, ordered him arrested”. But, whether due to lack of will of or power, Breckinridge never did much to end the massacres, and by proclamation and law the Confederate government encouraged them.

    As atrocities became bloodier, more severe, and more common, the position of the Union hardened. Though Lincoln had initially threatened to have a rebel executed for every massacred Unionist, his administration didn’t enforce this bloody retaliation as much as it could have. Ruefully, Lincoln admitted that while he could state the principle, the “difficulty is in practically applying it”. Gideon Welles agreed, arguing in a cabinet meeting that the government should not execute anyone in revenge, a “barbarous . . . inhuman policy”. But as massacres of soldiers and freedmen continued, Lincoln finally, with a heavy heart, allowed retaliation to take place more often. The first bloody consequence was that, when Union troops captured some 200 soldiers of Forrest’s command, 82 were immediately tried and soon executed. Therefore, when the Mississippi Valley sunk into gory chaos after Port Hudson, the execution of guilty Southern soldiers, the hanging of guerrillas without trial, and a policy of harsh, destructive war, had become widely accepted in the North as just and necessary.

    This was the situation Grant faced in the latter half of 1863. By that point, the lessee system had collapsed under the pressure of continuous violence, allowing for the home farm system to take its place instead. But this necessarily required more troops, to expand the areas under Yankee control and keep the threat of reenslavement and massacre away while the new USCT regiments were organized and drilled. As described previously, once established the new Home Farms proved more adept at defending themselves against marauders. Moreover, although they carried an appalling human cost, the harsh war methods of expelling civilians and destructive counterraids did bear results. But they demanded all of Grant’s energies and manpower, which meant that for months after Port Hudson the General had to stay put, his department dispersed on garrison and anti-guerrilla duties.

    A frustrated Grant complained of how he had to “settle down and see myself put again on the defensive . . . if not for these bands of marauders, it would have been an easy thing to capture Mobile.” But Grant, always a compassionate man, did not want to abandon the Black people who flocked to his territory and looked to him for protection. An already eroded slavery was now completely disintegrating in the areas under Federal occupation, or close to it, as the enslaved refused to work and poured into Union-held lands. By late 1863, Sherman declared that if “a negro . . . can run off without danger of recapture”, then “slavery is already dead in the South”. Grant saw the end of slavery in person when he was received by the joyful freedmen of Vicksburg, who “danced a jubilee” when they saw “their deliverer, the great captain who had opened the prison-house and given liberty to all the people”. To manage the tide of refugees, Grant gave his hearty support to land redistribution, saying in a report to Lincoln that the Home Farm system had “been of very great service to the blacks in having them provided for when otherwise they would have been neglected”.

    Nonetheless, Grant’s support for land redistribution was mostly based on its military utility, for the fortified home farms the system established freed White soldiers and strengthened the grip of the Union on the conquered territories. “By arming the negro we have added a powerful ally”, Grant declared, saying he was “most decidedly in favor of pushing this policy to the enlistment of a force sufficient to hold all the South falling into our hands and to aid in capturing more”. Thus, a combination of humanitarian concern and military necessity resulted in the war’s most concentrated assault against slavery and the largest effort at land redistribution yet seen. In other words, although Grant was pleased with the results, these were means to an end, instead of ends in themselves like the Radicals conceived. Nonetheless, Radicals were still overjoyed with how Grant was “in favor of destroying the cause of this civil war – of overthrowing slavery”. Grant’s actions revealed a keen political sense, for he managed to ingratiate himself to both Lincoln and the Radicals. When compared with Reynolds and Thomas, the two other most prominent Union generals, Grant was probably the best one at playing politics.

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    A Black Union soldier of a Home Farm regiment takes a photo with his family

    This worked to his advantage, for, unlike his two fellow commanders, he faced less pressure and impatience on the part of his government. Grant rewarded this confidence with concrete results. From November 1863 to January 1864, the Federal cavalry under Grierson launched a series of devastating raids against Confederate territory. From his base in Morton, the rebel General could only watch impotently as Grierson’s troopers swept forward, burning railroads, bridges, and supply bases. “Everything of value has given way before the blue whirlwind”, observed a Confederate in anguish; a fleeing woman described the “heart-rendering scene” of thousands being driven away, talking of “burning homes, houses knocked to pieces by balls, famine, murder, desolation”. Even a Yankee soldier could not help but feel pity, declaring it “grevious to see the picture of desolation the country presents . . . not a piece of fence left, houses pulled down or burnt, bridges destroyed; in fact the country is ruined for years to come.”

    But the Federals, infuriated after dealing for months with bloodthirsty and cruel guerrillas, saw these measures as fully justified. After leaving one town a smoldering ruin, a soldier declared that they “had served them right”, for its inhabitants were “the most treacherous and rabid secessionists . . . who encourage a lawless set of cutthroat bands”. Sherman even boldly declared that “to secure the safety of the navigation of the Mississippi I would slay millions. On that point I am not only insane but mad”. Despite the human cost, this harsh campaign was so effective that at its end, even if guerrilla warfare continued, the Federal grip was secured, and order was largely reestablished. A despairing Cleburne was unable to catch Grierson. In January, the rebel General had no other option but to withdraw to Meridian, the areas around Morton now reduced to a desolated waste.

    The overreaching objective of Grant’s campaign, aside from the reestablishment of order, was setting the conditions for taking Mobile, an important Confederate port and a center of blockade running. The fall of Mobile would also allow for his Army to pierce the heart of the Confederacy’s industry from the south. “Let us crush the head and heart of the rebellion,” Grant told Lyon, “and the tail can be ground to dust.” Unfortunately for the Union General, the high authorities at Philadelphia did not consider the attack against Mobile to be a priority. The Navy was focused on attempting to take Charleston, an effort which only bore disappointments and disabled ironclads. Worse, it meant that Admiral Farragut had no ships or seamen with which he could attack Mobile from the sea. On land, troops in General Banks’ Army of the Gulf, which Grant hoped would join him, were committed to operations in Texas instead.

    Adding to Grant’s woes was that his Army, like all other Union Armies, would soon have to let go thousands of men whose three-year enlistments had expired. The prospect of maintaining the Army’s effectiveness once they were replaced with green conscripts was especially bleak, since the new soldiers would have to learn to fight guerrillas and scout the countryside. These skills were not easily acquired, the soldiers having learned them through a fiery trial that could break men less committed and enthusiastic, as conscripts often were. As other Union commanders were forced to do, Grant would have to offer furloughs and bounties to hopefully retain some veterans, but his numbers would be reduced until they returned. Unable to secure Army reinforcements or Navy support before his force was thus weakened, Grant decided nonetheless to give a final blow to the already debilitated Confederate forces by an expedition against Cleburne’s base at Meridian, while getting Farragut to scrape together a small fleet for a naval feint against Mobile.

    Two corps under Generals William T. Sherman and Charles F. Smith would be tasked with the march. As had become a custom of the Army of the Tennessee, the blue soldiers lived off the land. “We burned a good many rail fences, buildings and corn ports, sugar, molasses and cotton we could not use”, a soldier reported. “We showed no mercy to the chickens, turkeys, geese, hogs, ducks, and every thing we could eat”. The commanders did try to limit the worst excesses, but the hatred some soldiers felt for the rebels made them risk punishment. “We confiscate everything and drive the people off before us father into Dixie”, said one. The civilian population too held them in contempt, openly calling them “Yankee dogs” and exclaiming that Forrest or Price would eventually make them pay. But some rebels were abused by their own soldiers, who often stripped the land clean before the Yankees could seize its resources. “Between the two forces I have suffered heavily”, admitted a resident. The civilians’ bitterness was increased by the refusal of the Confederates to actually face the Union Army, instead “cowardly abandoning us to the abolitionists’ swords and torches!”, as a woman said.

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    Anguished civilians fled the Yankee juggernaut

    This hesitance to fight was explained by Cleburne’s lack of knowledge about Grant’s exact intent. Unable to constate whether Sherman or Farragut were the real assault, the rebel decided to retreat to Mobile, judging that he couldn't allow the port to fall. Rebel soldiers took everything of value and torched the city, before their withdrawal allowed the Yankees to enter. The bluejackets found the chaos in Meridian terrible, an Illinoisian saying that “‘All is confusion and tumult.” But the Yankees continued the dismantling of the city, with all railroads soon twisted into “Sherman’s neckties”, bridges destroyed, and factories torched. By the time the Yankees were done, the city was a ruin of no use to the rebels. Sherman had thus, in his own words, “wiped the appointed meeting place off the map”.

    Despite the brutality, the campaign was overall not conducted merely as vindictive violence. Rather, it was a show of Grant's soon widespread style of warfare, which sought to destroy the Southern capacity to resist and wage war. This would bring about a faster end of hostilities and thus of suffering. Still, as proof of Northern compassion and as an effort at reconciliation, the same soldiers that devastated the land so thoroughly now offered foodstuffs and supplies to the conquered civilians. In Meridian, food and fuel was given to "poor white women & children, who followed . . . all over town mixed all up in a crowd together unmolested by the troops." In the countryside, it was the Yankee Bureaus that kept starvation at bay by bringing in flour, maize, and sugar for the hungry people. Surly civilians lined up for supplies, some not bothering to hide their humiliation at being fed by the enemy. On one occasion, a young boy spit on a Northern soldier as he received some flour. Thankfully, the soldiers found it funny and gave him some more to thank him for the laugh.

    Through this march, Grant had secured the Union’s control over the Mississippi Valley. Though violence would continue even beyond the end of the war, never again would the rebels represent a real threat to the Union’s grip over the territories. Indeed, the fact that they relied on partisans and irregulars was a confession of weakness, for it showed that the regular Confederate forces were unable to dislodge the Yankees and retake the areas under Federal occupation. “The campaign in Mississippi was certainly disastrous”, admitted a gloomy Jefferson Davis. It had filled the people with a “shock of despondency and foreboding of the consequences”. Military defeats accounted only for some of this despair, for slavery’s disintegration also convinced many Southerners that regardless of the war’s result, their peculiar institution had been irrevocably destroyed. In northern Mississippi, “the negroes on divers plantations [have] taken possession and driven owners away”, reported a soldier, while a planter said that even in areas that hadn’t been reached by the Yankees yet the enslaved were “completely demoralised—They are practically free—going, coming, and working when they please”.

    The rebels could at least take some solace in the fact that after the Meridian expedition Grant’s campaign had stalled. In March, Grant had to let go a whole corps home in furlough, while another corps’ enlistment periods ended, and they abandoned the Army. Requests of reinforcements from other commands, including from Banks in Louisiana, also diminished the strength Grant could bring to bear against the rebels. Still, Philadelphia was pleased with the results, and Grant obtained a pledge by Lyon that, when the furloughed regiments returned in May, Grant would be given reinforcements and Farragut would be given ironclads to mount a full-on assault against Mobile. But the temporary stall allowed Cleburne to slip north with most of his army in time to help turn back Thomas. Grant’s gutted army, many regiments still gone and others replaced by green conscripts, was not able to do anything before Cleburne returned, having already greatly helped to consummate this latest Confederate victory.

    Grant bitterly regrated his inability to keep Cleburne pinned in Mobile. Years later, he argued that he didn’t have enough resources, because even if guerrilla activity had been curbed down, he still had to maintain garrisons behind his lines lest it resumed. In this he was probably right, for precious resources had been diverted to other fronts. One of the most lamentable instances of this was the Texas expedition. This campaign was not a result of military considerations, but rather answered to political objectives. The troops of Napoleon III had installed a puppet pro-France government in Mexico under Maximilian I. The Lincoln administration, which supported the republican Juarez faction, refused to recognize this new government and recalled the American minister. This opposition was informed by the threatening possibility that the Confederacy would find in Maximilian’s regime an ally. Already a very lucrative trade had flourished across the Rio Grande. To shut down this trade and warn the French to stay out of American business, Lincoln pressed for a campaign “to plant the flag in Texas”.

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    Emperor Maximilian I of Mexico

    With the benefit of hindsight, many have questioned the wisdom of this choice. The fickle Napoleon III, at first apparently willing to help the Confederates, had by then lost interest, and many military men, chief among them Grant, thought the campaign a wasteful diversion, considering instead that the Union should focus on Mobile. But political realities made it so that the campaign would go forward. The initial effort focused on Sabine Pass, where an infantry landing was bungled by Banks in September 1863. After that, Lincoln, who was anxious for the General to start to reconstruct Louisiana, decided instead to task General Rosecrans with field command over the expedition. The plan involved for a march up the Red River to Shreveport, where Rosecrans was to link up with Union reinforcements from Arkansas, after which the combined Yankee force would use the Sabine River as a venue for the invasion of Texas.

    The presumptive reason for this detour was whipping Richard Taylor’s army to prevent it from becoming a threat and securing more territory for the Union. But, as historian David H. Donald observes sarcastically, it also was “incidentally to liberate 50,000 to 150,000 bales of cotton thought to be stored in central and western Louisiana”. However, the move was poorly planned and started late. When the expedition finally commenced around January, it apparently was a success, with Rosecrans managing to easily brush guerrillas away as he marched, seizing cotton and other goods. Yet not much was accomplished except the “wanton destruction of property”. More positively, as Rosecrans’ troops “moved through the river counties, they left slavery in taters”. An Illinois soldier recorded how “one group of col’d girls welcomed us with waving of handkerchiefs, bonnets and aprons and a song and a hurra for Lincoln too”.

    Nonetheless, by the time Rosecrans’ reached Shreveport, he found that ironically the Union’s own previous actions now proved its undoing. The land around the city had already been thoroughly ravaged by Sherman, and Shreveport itself was little more than a burnt husk. The Union force that was supposed to meet him was nowhere to be seen. Unbeknownst to Rosecrans, the reinforcement’s supply wagons had been plundered by guerrillas and they were almost starved, finding no food in the barren and undeveloped plains of southern Arkansas. At least, this desolation had made Richard Taylor stay in southern Louisiana, so Rosecrans’ command was not threatened. Thirsty for victory, Rosecrans decided to press on ahead with the Texas expedition. After a detour to Union territory to turn over their plentiful cotton bounty and receive more supplies, Rosecrans headed to the Sabine River on March. Those who hoped for a quick expedition so that attention could be focused on Mobile were disappointed by the knowledge that this campaign would continue.

    This decision resulted in one of the most bizarre but also most mythical episodes of the war. After driving away the Confederates defenders at the Sabine, using the ironclads taken from Farragut, Rosecrans’ crossed the river and finally found Taylor. The rebel, conscious of his weakness following Grant’s Vicksburg campaign, had like Cleburne limited himself to raids. Nonetheless, he had managed to scrape together a small force to defend Texas against this new Yankee threat. As Rosecrans’ force advanced north, intending to cut the railroad that united Beaumont and Houston, Taylor concentrated his effectives, including several guerrilla fighters and hard-riding Texans. After destroying the rails, Rosecrans’ was surprised by an attack spearheaded by the “Johnny Breck Guards”, who sent the Yankee flying with a furious charge. Rosecrans then ordered his men to retreat and regroup at the Sabine Lake, where they would counterattack. Unfortunately, Rosecrans worded the order poorly, with many men, including his cavalry, believing he ordered a retreat to the Sabine Pass, some miles to the south.

    Consequently, Rosecrans’ force divided itself, and when the Federal reached the lake he found that most of his troops were to the south. Before he could rejoin them, Taylor attacked and Rosecrans was forced to flee to the north. A follow-up attack against the regiments at the Sabine pass failed to dislodge the Federals, supported by naval guns. The following week the two armies eyes each other wearily, the Yankees not knowing where their commander even was but unwilling to retreat. Rosecrans, for his part, lived an adventure in Texas, as his small force was unable to rejoin the rest of the bluejackets with Taylor in the middle. Instead, they continued north, dodging guerrillas and living off the land. This misadventure was especially dangerous because some rebels had threatened to execute Rosecrans in revenge for his Red River expedition. They finally managed to ford the Sabine with the help of a multiethnic Unionist guerrilla, which joined them as they continued south. Finally, after a week of quiet desperation, the Union army got their commander back, as if returned from the land of the dead.

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    Rosecrans in Texas

    The image of a sunburnt, unshaved, and rather dirty Rosecrans, accompanied by similarly unkempt Yankee soldiers and an escort that included Black, Native American and Hispanic men, returning after braving the Texas climate and guerrillas, caused a sensation in the North. For years afterwards, Rosecrans would tell the romantic, if bizarre, tale of his Texan adventure. As a bonus, the fact that Taylor hadn’t even realized that the Union force he faced had no commander, and that so many Confederates had failed to capture the Federals (one scout even falling, it is said, for Rosecrans’ poor Spanish) caused untold embarrassment and ridicule. A dismayed Taylor then attempted to attack the Yankees, but the assault came to grief and Rosecrans, now wording his dispatches more carefully, managed to capture Beaumont. This was temporary, for poor logistics and scarcity of water forced him back to the Sabine pass. At the same time some Union sailors managed to capture Brownsville, at the border across from Matamoros. Thus, despite all difficulties, Rosecrans had in a way succeeded in his effort to plant the flag in Texas and distract Taylor's army.

    It is doubtful, however, that these meager gains justified the enormous loss of time and the diversion of resources that could have been better used in an expedition against Mobile. Philadelphia was pleased enough with the results, which in their estimation kept Taylor away from Louisiana, thus giving Banks room to breathe in his efforts to reconstruct the state, and had given Napoleon III something to ponder. In truth, the French Emperor was not very impressed, though reportedly he enjoyed the reports, finding the event a “fine American adventure”. Lincoln himself apparently found the tale rather funny, and though he mused that it was better if it was not repeated by other commanders, he added “as lost as Rosecrans in Texas” to his long list of stories and sayings. Others weren’t amused, such as Sherman, who pronounced the whole thing “one damn blunder from beginning to end”. Ultimately, Rosecrans was transferred north to assume command over Arkansas and Missouri, which had lost its previous commander, Schofield, transferred to Georgia where his blunders had a less amusing result.

    Rosecrans' bizarre adventure captured Northern minds partly because it was one of the few recent news that didn't include horrific casualties, abominable atrocities, or shameful failure. The Northerners craved the levity, but the gaiety bred by the tale was sadly not to last. Just a few weeks after Rosecrans' expedition had ended, the major offensives in Georgia and Virginia failed disastrously. As the Armies retreated, desperation took over the North. The price of gold shot up, financial markets crashed, and newspapers now declared Lincoln and Reynolds to be butchers. A Union General talked of “great discouragement over the North, great reluctance to recruiting, strong disposition for peace”. This despondency was shared by the Union chief. A visitor to the White House found Lincoln “pacing back and forth a narrow passage leading to one of the windows, his hands behind him, great black rings under his eyes, his head bent forward upon his breast—altogether... a picture of the effects of sorrow, care, and anxiety.”

    Down south the response was the contrary, as Southern morale climbed back from the depths of gloom and many Confederates started to hope again. The Battle of Marietta was “one of the grandest victories of the war”, according to Assistant Secretary of War Seddon. It had “relieve[d] all the more southern States from the dread of invasion and ravage” and reduced “the dismayed and shattered remnants of the enemy’s grand army” to a state of “dismay and pessimism.” An editor cheered the victories, assuring his readers that “the armies of Reynolds, Grant and Thomas” were “almost annihilated”. The editor then declared that “six weeks hence . . . we may be invading the enemy’s soil, and carrying out offensive warfare”. Breckinridge had no such intentions, but similarly to Lincoln the previous summer, victory was a wondrous tonic. In a visit to the Army of Northern Virginia, “the veterans of Lee and Jackson greeted him with cheers whenever he came within sight,” reported a soldier, “and wherever he moved among them, it was a perfect ovation”. Another agreed, observing that "Breckinridge seems to infuse energy and confidence wherever he goes."

    But more sober Confederates knew that these victories hadn’t accomplished an end to hostilities. Lincoln’s dogged prosecution meant that he would continue to try, and though continuous success could defeat him at the ballot box, the election was still months away. If they wanted to secure their independence, the Confederates would have to maintain this resistance against enemies that remained vastly superior in numbers and resources. These considerations inspired one Confederate to help Dixie by striking against the leaders of the Union. If the Yankee nation was thus decapitated, John Wilkes Booth believed, the ensuing chaos and confusion would be enough for a coup de grace to be dealt and Southern independence to be secured. It was, therefore, the Confederate triumphs that convinced the Southern sympathizer to finally act, after months where he feverishly hatched up schemes that he didn’t dare to execute. But the hour had finally came.

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    James Alexander Seddon

    The son and brother of popular theater actors, John Wilkes Booth was a handsome man that had too earned accolades for his performances in Shakespearean plays. From the beginning, it was the Southern theaters that gave him the warmest welcomes, both for his charming energy and his thoroughly pro-slavery worldview. Considering the institution “one of the greatest blessings” and the country one “formed for the white, not for the black man”, Booth saw the war as a just uprising against abolitionist tyranny. Though he declared that “my soul, life, and possessions are for the South”, he did not enlist in the Confederate army. His contributions to the South were at first bitter tirades against Lincoln and his efforts “to crush out slavery, by robbery, rapine, slaughter and bought armies.” Booth finally contributed more when he helped smuggle arms into Baltimore, and although he did not take part in the insurrection in 1863, this earned him the trust of the Confederate secret service.

    By late 1863, Booth looked on in horror as Union war policy hardened and the Lincoln administration became more committed to a radical revolution in Southern life. He raged against hard war measures taken against partisans in Virginia and Maryland even as he cheered on Southern war criminals. When Lincoln issued his Proclamation of Amnesty and Reconstruction, Booth snarled that it “means nigger citizenship! Now, by God, I’ll put him through.” Intending to help the South, Booth hatched a scheme for kidnapping Lincoln, and holding him hostage to end the war. But the plan was clearly unpracticable, because with the President in the temporary capital of Philadelphia, it would be impossible to take him to Confederate lines quickly enough. It was also doubtful that Lincoln, still a strong and imposing man, would allow himself to be captured. At least, Confederate Secretary of War Davis thought so, dismissing suggestions to kidnap Lincoln as dishonorable, but also unpracticable, for Lincoln was “a man of courage” who’d rather die than be kidnapped.

    Much speculation that simply cannot be decisively proven surrounds the whole case, as some have interpreted this comment as proof that Davis and other high functionaries, possibly Breckinridge himself, knew and approved of Booth’s intentions, their only objection being that they found killing Lincoln to be easier than kidnapping him. What is generally agreed is that Booth acted more or less independently, instead of under the direct direction of any Confederate authority. In any case, even without the input of the Southern leaders, Booth had arrived at the same conclusion, and by early 1864 he had decided to assassinate Lincoln. “Drinking very heavily at this time”, David H. Donald analyses, Booth “increasingly came to think of himself as not just a self-appointed Confederate secret agent but as the reincarnation of one of the tragic theatrical heroes whose lines he mouthed so eloquently”.

    Booth’s original plan was to ambush Lincoln and Reynolds at an expected visit to the Army camps before the campaign started. Lincoln had indeed been considering this, but Reynolds was reportedly not happy with the idea, seeing it as political grandstanding, and Lincoln cancelled the visit. After that, it is unknown what Booth planed while the campaign continued. Nonetheless, his scope had increased to include most of the heads of the Union, laying down plans for the assassination of William H. Seward and Edwin M. Stanton, and also of Solomon Foot, the Vermont Senator who served as President Pro-Tempore of the Senate and would thus assume the Presidency, given that Lincoln’s Vice-President, John McLean, had died shortly after the war had started. Military figures were also targeted, for Booth hoped he could murder Reynolds, General in-chief Lyon, and maybe other important commanders.

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    John Wilkes Booth

    The opportunity finally presented itself when after the defeat at Spotsylvania Booth learned that Lincoln would visit Reynolds, accompanied by Lyon. The visit was not a good idea, in the opinion of Secretary Stanton, who said that “Mr. Lincoln ought not to go—it was too great an exposure”, instead recommending that Reynolds go to Philadelphia. But Lincoln would have none of it, saying that he didn’t wish to draw Reynolds away from the front and that, moreover, visiting the troops would do him good. “I will take care of myself”, he assured Stanton with a smile. This lack of concern for his own safety angered Stanton, and also the President’s friend, Ward Hill Lamon, who often begged Lincoln to not continue to walk on his own in the night or take extended trips around the city with no guard. Lincoln did not listen, saying it was not right “for a President to have guards with drawn sabres at his door, as if he fancied he were . . . an emperor.” In one occasion, Lamon offered his resignation when he learned that Lincoln had gone to the theater with Charles Summer and the elderly Prussian minister, the Baron Gerolt, “neither of whom could defend himself against an assault from any able-bodied woman in this city.”

    As the bitterness and destruction of the struggle increased so did the number of threats against Lincoln’s life. The Confederate leaders officially discouraged kidnapping or assassination schemes, Seddon declaring that “The laws of war and morality, as well as Christian principles and sound policy forbid the use of such means”. But many Confederates, who saw in Lincoln “a tyrant with hands stained deep crimson with the blood of innocents”, started to consider such measures justified. When the Union Congress passed the Third Confiscation Act, with its provisions for the execution of the Southern leaders, many thought it a direct threat. Worse, in February a Union raid against Richmond was repulsed, but Confederates claimed to have found papers on the body of Colonel Ulric Dahlgren that showed plans to raze Richmond and hang “the rebel leader Breckinridge and his hateful crew”. With vivid memories of what Sherman had done to Shreveport and Meridian, and of how Lincoln allowed for the execution of the captured members of Forrest’ command, the Southerners saw in this a terrible and bloody promise.

    On the Union side, anxiety started to run high after the Month of Blood, which Union spies discovered had been fostered and planned by Confederate agents acting on Northern soil. What was to stop them from infiltrating Philadelphia too? Yet Lincoln remained unconcerned. Once, Lincoln showed a newspaperman some eighty letters with death threats, and cavalierly told him “I know I am in danger; but I am not going to worry over threats like these.” The President also trusted his own vigor, possibly remembering an occasion when an Army surgeon showed concern for his arm after hours of shaking hands with wounded soldiers. With a smile, Lincoln said he had “strong muscles” and “picked up a heavy ax that lay beside a log. He chopped away vigorously for a few minutes and then, taking the ax in his right hand, extended it horizontally, holding it steady without even a quiver”. Donald continues the tale: “After he left, some strong soldiers attempted to duplicate his feat but failed.”

    On May 2nd, 1864, Lincoln arrived at Fredericksburg. The Army of the Susquehanna had been defeated in late March, using all of April to regroup and lick its wounds. The heavy presence of Union troops must have calmed Lamon somewhat, as did the military guard of General Lyon. The wounded Reynolds was waiting for Lincoln in the house of a certain John Pattinson, a man who had been quick to pledge loyalty to the Union when the city was taken and boasted that his home was the only one not impacted by a shell during the battle. Soldiers of Reynolds’ own guard were patrolling around the block. It seemed that no assassination scheme could prosper under such circumstances, but unfortunately Booth was able to work this to his advantage. With so many soldiers around, no one bated an eye as Booth, together with his conspirators Lewis Paine (or Powell) and David Herold, walked around dressed in blue fatigues. Though he denied it later, the uniforms were supplied by John Surratt, a Confederate agent with ties to Virginia guerrillas. It is not known if they were taken, as the commonly repeated myth says, from kidnapped sentries. But whatever their origin, they allowed the conspirators to move around undetected.

    330px-The_photographic_history_of_the_Civil_War_-_thousands_of_scenes_photographed_1861-65%2C_with_text_by_many_special_authorities_%281911%29_%2814762669205%29.jpg

    Fredericksburg during the Civil War

    Although many bluejackets marched around the house, only one soldier was actually guarding the premises. The rest had been ordered by Reynolds to march around, in the interest of privacy. The irresponsible soldier would later be trialed for leaving his post to go and get drunk, an action that allowed Booth and his party to enter the house. In the parlor of the Pattinson home, the President had been discussing strategy with Reynolds and Lyon. After munching on a toast smeared with mustard, Lyon rather tactlessly told Reynolds that he regarded the retreat a mistake. Conceding that it was ordered by Sedgwick, Lyon told Reynolds that he should have returned to the field to keep up the pressure on Lee. This, the blunt Lyon said, could have kept Longstreet from slipping to Georgia. Privately, Lincoln had vented similar concerns, but at the meeting he was more conciliatory. Still, Lyon’s abrasive words could not help but annoy Reynolds, who bit back a snarl when someone knocked on the door.

    “General Reynolds!”, Booth was saying from the other side of the door, effectuating a New York accent. “Important news!” Before either Lincoln or Lyon could move, Reynolds was up on his crutches, and jumping towards the door while yelling “I said not to bother us!” No doubt his frayed nerves had made him willing to dress down the impetuous soldier at the door. But when he was close enough, Booth opened the door, took out his pistol and shoot the General in his heart. Now Booth knew he had limited time before soldiers rushed into the building. Unfortunately for him, the Pattinson parlor happened to have a door that opened inward, which meant that the body of the dying Reynolds kept him from opening it fully and rushing into the room. These precious few seconds maybe changed the outcome. As soon as they had seen what happened, Lamon had ran to Lincoln, intending to protect the President, while Lyon had taken his sidearm and, with the same fury he had used against Missouri Confederates, raced to the door to repeal the invaders himself. Shouting “Damn rebel!”, he fired his pistol, which only grazed Booth’s right arm. Then, the burly, violent Paine rushed and shot Lyon in the gut, but not before Lyon, in a last defiant moment, shot him in the chest.

    Both men went down while Booth, whose vanity made him believe he was the one who had to kill Lincoln, ran to the back of the parlor. Lamon had broken a window and was trying to get the President to flee, but Lincoln was unwilling to let the three men lay down his life for him. Trying to take aim with his wounded arm, and dramatically shouting “Sic Semper Tyrannis”, Booth overshot the target and hit neither Lincoln nor Lamon. Lamon tried to shoot back, but his pistol jammed, although the threat distracted Booth. Seeing a chance, Lincoln took a wooden log from near the fireplace and smashed it against Booth’s skull. The assassin fell to the ground, but there remained one Confederate on the room, David Herold. Though an avid hunter, Herold had lost his nerve in the commotion and had been all but paralyzed. With Booth down, Herold shook off his stupor and shot, but his nerves both made him miss his target and choose it wrong, for instead of Lincoln he shot Lamon, hitting him in the arm. Lincoln, who had been a wrestler in his youth, took this opportunity to tackle Herold, and kicked his gun away. However, Booth wasn’t dead, and when he rose up, bleeding from his temple, he tried to shoot Lincoln.

    The loyal, brave Lamon, fully willing to sacrifice himself for Lincoln, jumped forward and tried to take the gun from Booth, being shot dead. But this sacrifice then allowed Lincoln, who at 6 feet 4 inches towered over the 5 feet 8 inches Booth, to manhandle the rebel, forcing him to drop his firearm and throwing him to the floor. Then there was a flash of light, and Lincoln had to jump back to avoid the blade of Booth’s knife, a superficial but scarlet gash now on the President’s arm. At that moment, several Union soldiers rushed into the building, the yells of “Save the President!” echoing through the house. The alarmed Booth, by then panicking, tried to slash Lincoln, but with his imposing height and armed again with a log the President kept out of reach. When a soldier entered the room, Booth jumped through the window Lamon had smashed, cutting himself with the broken fragments of crystal. A gash on his leg made him limp away as the Yankee soldiers entered and saw the wounded Lincoln, the still dizzy Herold, and the corpses of Paine, Lyon, Reynolds and Lamon.

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    The Assassins

    Booth would not be able to flee even one street. When soldiers caught up to him, he raised his knife, making the soldiers pour a volley of bullets. One soldier said that he had declared with his last breath that “the South is avenged”. More credibly, another soldier says that with his last breath Booth snarled "Useless! Useless!". His main target, Lincoln, had survived, unscathed except for a superficial if long cut on the outside of his arm, near his shoulder. In later years, some claimed, with little credibility, that whenever Lincoln’s faith wavered he would look at the scar. It is agreed, however, that he joked the scar wasn’t as bad as those left by the mosquitoes when he briefly served in a militia during the Black Hack War. But at the moment Lincoln, weeping unabashedly at the deaths of his subordinates, did not find humor in the situation. Nor did thousands, maybe millions of Yankees who were horrified at the assassinations and clamored for revenge. In the following weeks, Lincoln was forced to choose new commanders, and change his thinking and strategy, while the radicalization and bitterness of the war deepened. For its political, military, and social consequences, the assassination of May 2nd, the Red Night, became one of the defining events of the Civil War.
     
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    Side-story: "A Scene from Richmond"
  • A Scene from Richmond

    President Breckinridge rode towards the house, accompanied by Secretary Davis. He was thin and haggard, but remained an erect, attractive figure on horseback. “President Breckinridge was the handsomest man I ever saw”, commented one of the ladies of the house, now serving as a nurse for the Confederate soldiers. Their house, located at the outskirts of the Confederate capital, had been turned into a makeshift hospital, and was now filled with wounded soldiers. The South had little in the way of medical supplies due to the blockade imposed by the Philadelphia Tyrant, but the soldiers were in good cheer. They had just turned away the invader again, and Lincoln’s defeat and with it their independence seemed closer now. That’s when the President himself appeared, and pain and sadness evaporated in favor of celebration and jubilee. One soldier even seemed to forget his wounded leg and jumped to his feet to holler a “hurrah for Johnny Breck!”

    Breckinridge took his hat off and saluted his troops. “My brave boys!,” he said, “I’ve come to thank you for your patriotism and bravery. It is to you that the Confederacy owes the confident hope in victory that will impel us to a glorious place among the independent nations of the world.” Breckinridge waited a few moments while the resounding cheers that had started in response quieted down, and then continued. “The thanks of the Chief Executive of the Confederacy pale in comparison to the gratitude your immortal courage has entitled you to, but I hope you will find in them a bereavement for your pain. Rest, my brave boys, you have done enough.” But the soldiers would have none of it. “No, Father John!” they cried, “there’s still fight in us!” Breckinridge just smiled, and then got off his horse and went into the house to give a more personal thanks to the ailing troops.

    Miss Elizabeth Hopkins, the young lady who was struck by the President’s handsome appearance, would never forget Breckinridge’s tender concern for the troops. “The President was the noblest, most generous person in the continent,” she wrote later with absolute certainty of the truth of her words. “He loved us and cared for us like a father, and we could do no less than love him fully in return,” commented a soldier for his part. No matter how tired he was, Breckinridge devoted a few minutes to every soldier, asking about their families, hearing their tales, and trying to do all he could to lighten their sorrows. A Kentucky soldier, who had rallied to a Kentucky pro-secession militia and then became part of the ”Orphan Brigade”, was flabbergasted when the President didn’t just remember him from those months trying to get Kentucky to secede, but recalled his name.

    During the visit the Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis, too chatted with the soldiers. Despite his role as an officer working mostly behind the scenes, the soldiers and the people knew him as one of the cornerstones of the Breckinridge regime. In contrast to the beloved Breckinridge, Davis was never truly loved by the people of the Confederacy. “That lay largely in the nature of the man,” explains William C. Davis, “for not knowing how to inspire popularity, he never courted it, instead disdaining such pandering to the masses as beneath his dignity.” Yet, Davis’ commitment to the cause and his loyalty to Breckinridge inspired admiration in many Confederates. As the Secretary of War he was a visible leader, his patriotism and sheer determination inspiring to the troops. And so, even if the cheers for Jeff Davis weren’t as loud, they were just as sincere.

    After the President retired from the house and mounted his horse, he and the Secretary rode around. A resident who observed the scene would never forget “the graceful forms and dignified countenances of the two horsemen riding side by side.” It was in those quiet moments on horseback that Davis showed his softer side, a side that could be gentlemanly and even charming. Davis was never a good bureaucrat, his temper irritable, his personality aloof, his demeanor cold. This was often contrasted negatively to Breckinridge’s easy charm and grace. But on the saddle Davis always seemed to recover his spirits, and he and Breckinridge talked freely of literature, horses, horticulture, and wildlife. Whatever the differences between the two men, they had grown to trust and respect each other. According to Varina Davis, she never saw her husband in happier moods than when he was able to forget the war and just enjoy a chat on horseback with Breckinridge.

    The two men then stopped in front of a small house. Despite the sorry state of the building, the owner too had accepted wounded soldiers and was doing her best to tend to them. Other soldiers were around, eating their meager supplies of parched green corn. The soldiers let out a cheer to their two leaders, who acknowledged them with a wave of their hats. The President then descended from his horse and offered a gentlemanly greeting to the lady of the house, who, obviously exhausted, was nonetheless still sewing socks at the same time as she bounced a baby on her knee. When she saw Breckinridge, she stopped her work and held up her infant. “He is named for you”, she said. A touched Breckinridge then took a handful of coins from his pocket and offered them to the woman. “Oh, I couldn’t!”, she begged off, but the Chief Executive insisted, exclaiming that he didn’t need the money and that “seeing any of my people suffering pains me more than a stab or a shot could”. John Breckinridge Stokes would die a year later, in May 1865, during the post-war famine.

    Walking to the backyard, the President saw two young boys playing marbles. Someone then suggested that they should join in the game. “At once the president and the secretary of war were on their knees,” William C. Davis tells, “marbles in hand, spending an hour at a spirited contest amid peals of laughter.” It was clear that in that moment, even if for a little while, Breckinridge and Davis had been able to forget their cares and sorrows, leaving aside their seriousness and dignity. Perhaps, as they played a game they surely enjoyed during their own boyhoods, they remembered better and easier times. After the game concluded, the President sat down, leaning against a tree. Davis and the soldiers quickly surrounded him, and Breckinridge took out his lunch, some biscuits, and shared them with the men. He then started to recount some stories. The two young boys soon crawled into his lap, and Breckinridge remained with them for a couple more hours before duty recalled him to Richmond. When Mary Breckinridge saw her husband, she thought he was the happiest he’d been in a long time, but there was an unmistakable note of sadness underneath his smile. “It’s as if Mr. Breckinridge thought that this could not last,” she mused, “as if we’re approaching the end.”
     
    Chapter 47: Not A Man Shall Be A Slave
  • The great events of history are often surrounded by their own mythology, which at the same time as it celebrates and aggrandizes history often warps it, forcing historians to cut through layers of legend to arrive to a less glamorous truth. The Civil War is no exception; indeed, it might be one of the most relevant examples, for its centrality to American history and identity has resulted in the construction of clear, heroic narratives. Abraham Lincoln himself is a prime example. John Wilkes Booth’s atrocious attempt on Lincoln’s life came to form part of the story of the “Great Emancipator”, whose humanity had led him to compassionately but misguidedly try to forgive the rebellious Southerners. While borne out of mercy, this magnanimity only emboldened the traitors and divided the Republican Party between the foolishly compassionate and the foolishly vindictive. Having survived the attack, Lincoln then realized that real justice involved punishing the wealthy planters, who had deluded common men like Booth into committing terrible acts. This realization, as momentous as his recognition that slavery had to be destroyed in 1862, allowed Lincoln to unite the Republican Party behind him and his wise policy, that balanced charity and justice to achieve the best for the nation.

    At its most extreme, this interpretation of history has said that Booth indirectly saved the Republican Party and even the United States, because his actions, horrifying as they were, helped Lincoln realize that the Southern Slavocracy would resort to anything to preserve its power. While maintaining his compassion for those who had been deluded to fight for a cause that didn’t favor them, Lincoln “saw the light” and undertook a policy that sought to overthrow the slavocracy, the truly guilty for the tragedy of the war. The Republican Party, until then vacillating and divided, found new and greater strength in Lincoln’s program, and united to renominate and then re-elect him. Booth, the tragic victim, then joined the long list of Southerners who in trying to avoid a radical revolution ended up sparking one. Lincoln, the tragic hero, for his part joined the long list of Northerners who offered mercy to the enslavers, only to see violence and evil returned. Ultimately, similarly to how the war was necessary despite its tragic cost, the assassination attempt was likewise necessary, because it reunited the Republican Party and spurned Lincoln to take the final, most important step in his growth as a statesman.

    Needless to say, the truth is much more complex. The idea that the war represented a continuous evolution of Lincoln’s thought and actions is an enduring one because in some ways it is true. At the very start of the war Lincoln had argued against letting the war become a remorseless radical struggle, but, by the time Booth and his conspirators acted, Lincoln was leading just that kind of revolutionary crusade. However, just like how Emancipation wasn’t a sudden realization but the product of careful consideration and the events of the first year of war, Lincoln’s Reconstruction policy wasn’t an unexpected development. Three hard years of war, the politics of the North, and the strife within the Republican Party are all factors that must be considered and probably weighted more on Lincoln’s mind than the traumatic attempt on his life when it came to fashioning a peace. The myth that the assassination gave Lincoln a necessary “final push”, at the same time as it united the Republican Party and the whole North behind a new policy that Lincoln created at that moment is, in the last analysis, simply untrue.

    A more truthful recounting of events is not only essential, but more useful for it allows for a better understanding of the inner politics of the Republican Party, showing the political brilliance of Abraham Lincoln. As already related in previous chapters, the Southern Territories Bill that Lincoln vetoed in late April wasn’t merely a factional challenge against his leadership, but the product of genuine constitutional and ideological concerns. Otherwise, the legislation wouldn’t have commanded a near unanimity among Republicans ranks. Presidential politics didn’t play a large role in the making of the bill, but Lincoln’s veto and the subsequent reactions did demonstrate the differing concerns of each Republican faction and contributed to defining the position of every Republican in the up-coming contest. More relevantly, and especially among Radicals, it solidified already held doubts about Lincoln and reinforced an already present, if previously beneath the surface, commitment to replace him as the candidate for 1864.

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    Booth's attempts hallowed Lincoln even more in Northern hearts

    Several factors were operating against Lincoln’s reelection. Since Martin Van Buren 1840 no incumbent had been renominated, and none had won since Andre Jackson in 1832. With usual lack of expressiveness, Lincoln merely said that “a second term would be a great honor and a great labor, which together, perhaps I would not decline, if tendered”, when questioned by close confidantes, but in truth the President did desire to be reelected, both as personal vindication and to further his policy. By the end of 1863, it was clear that Lincoln would be a candidate again. Even if, by custom, he could not announce his intentions or campaign for himself directly, his friends moved behind the scenes to secure support for his renomination. To assemble a broad coalition behind him, Lincoln gave attention to both Conservatives and Radicals. For example, he sought to mollify the Blairs and Weeds of the Party, at the same time as he lavished kindness on Radicals like Sumner, who became a frequent visitor to the Executive Mansion. There, the Senator and Lincoln would “laugh together like two school boys”, according to Mary Lincoln.

    However, despite these efforts, there were already many important segments of the Party that had been alienated by Lincoln’s conduct of the war, such as an Iowa caucus that denounced Lincoln for having “clogged and impeded the wheels and movements of the revolution”. Even as the Republican Party and the North as a whole came to agree on the goals of the war, namely Black emancipation and unconditional victory, many remained skeptical that Lincoln was capable of achieving them. Few Congressional leaders seemed enthusiastic about a second Lincoln term, with many still convinced, as they had been in 1860, that there were better men available. “You would be surprised in talking with public men,” a conservative wrote in February 1864, “to find how few . . . are for Mr. Lincoln’s reelection. There is a distrust and fear that he is too undecided and inefficient ever to put down the rebellion”. Even those who thought the President’s mind “works in the right directions”, like Henry Ward Beecher, believed that he lacked the “element of leadership” that would allow him to convert just principles into practical, permanent solutions.

    Yet, despite the opposition of several key figures, Lincoln seemed to find greater support among the people. His friends and a deluge of letters from all over the North assured Lincoln that “you have touched and taken the popular heart—and secured your re-election beyond a peradventure—should you desire it.” James A. Garfield, recently elected to Congress after a gallant career in the Army of the Cumberland, concluded that “The people desire the reelection of Mr. Lincoln”. To be sure, some of this support had been ably fostered by Lincoln by means of patronage and political maneuvering. Nonetheless, and especially in the Republican center, many agreed that Lincoln was the best choice. But the dangerous discontent of several powerful men remained, and resulted in two distinct political movements in the first half of 1864. The first, coming from the Radicals, sought to make the Republican Party replace Lincoln with a more radical candidate; the second, coming from Conservatives, wished to make Lincoln repudiate the Republican Party in favor of a more conservative coalition.

    The man at the center of the first movement was Secretary of the Treasury Salmon P. Chase. “I think a man of different qualities from those the President has will be needed for the next four years”, Chase wrote at the end of 1863, doubtlessly convinced that he was that man. Chase used his position as Secretary of the Treasury to build a base of support through patronage, and sought those who felt slighted by Lincoln to assure them that if he were President things would be different. Lincoln for the most part didn’t pay any mind to Chase’s efforts. “I am entirely indifferent as to his success or failure in these schemes”, Lincoln said with confident amusement, “so long as he does his duty as the head of the Treasury Department.” His confidence was based on his strength. Lincoln’s partisans seemed more successful than Chase’s in the early months of 1864, when their organization extracted votes of confidence from several Northern state legislatures and conventions, including the endorsement of all Republicans in the legislatures of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Kansas, and California.

    The efforts of the Secretary’s friends were nowhere near as fruitful. They started in earnest in January 1864, when powerful friends including the financier Jay Cooke, the reporter Whitelaw Reid, and Senators Samuel Pomeroy and John Sherman, inaugurated a “Chase for President” committee. They first indirectly, and without naming Chase, advocated his candidacy in a pamphlet titled “The Next Presidential Election”. This was followed up with an even more vicious assault in the form of a circular distributed by Senator Pomeroy among hundreds of Republican politicians across the North. Declaring that Lincoln’s reelection was “practically impossible”, the Pomeroy Circular unabashedly pressed Chase’s candidacy forward, for he was a “a statesman of rare ability, and an administrator of the very highest order”. If somehow reelected, Lincoln, with his “manifest tendency toward compromises and temporary expedients of policy”, would just preside over a second term where “the cause of human liberty, and the dignity and honor of the nation, suffer proportionately, while the war may continue to languish”.

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    Samuel Pomeroy

    The indiscreet heavy-handed methods of Chase’s friends backfired almost immediately. Lincoln’s supporters, upon learning of this “most scurrilous and abusive circular”, united in defense of the President and denunciation of Chase and his men. A correspondent warned Senator Sherman, who had helped distribute the Circular, that this attempt of a “few politicians at Philadelphia” to turn the people against “Old Honest Abe” was doomed to failure. As Gideon Welles observed, the Circular’s “recoil will be more dangerous I apprehend than its projectile” for it would “damage Chase more than Lincoln”. A second round of endorsements and a flurry of pro-Lincoln counter-circulars led the hitherto Chase-friendly New York Times to acknowledge the “universality of popular sentiment in favor of Mr. Lincoln’s reelection”. “Nothing can overcome it or seriously weaken” this support, the paper concluded. Several of Chase’s supporters were so chastened by this reaction that they hopped off the Chase bandwagon.

    The Secretary himself was so chagrined by “this boomerang destruction of his aspirations” that he disingenuously asserted that he was not consulted about the Circular and would not have approved its contents had he known. Asking Lincoln to not “hold me responsible except for what I do or say myself”, Chase nevertheless offered his resignation to Lincoln, claiming that he did “not wish to administer the Treasury Department one day without your entire confidence.” Several supporters wanted him to accept Chase’s resignation, including Lincoln’s personal friend David Davis, who stated that he “wd dismiss him [from] the cabinet if it killed me.” But Lincoln recognized that Chase was more dangerous out of the government than inside of it. The very fact that Chase led “such an intrigue against the one to whom he owes his portfolio”, weakened him, recognized Frank Blair, speculating that Lincoln only retained him because “every hour that he remains sinks him deeper in the contempt of every honorable mind.”

    All this contributed to creating an image of Chase as cowardly and dishonorable, for if he had “courage and manliness enough”, a representative remarked acridly, he would surrender his post and openly challenge Lincoln, instead of “exposing his friends to ridicule and abandoning them fast lest he be a target too”. Lincoln himself mocked Chase’s ambitions as a form of “mild insanity”, assuring Edward Bates that Chase and other malcontents would not dare attack him because they “fear that the blow would be ineffectual, and so, they would fall under his power, as beaten enemies.” Lincoln, a Pennsylvania supporter concluded, was hiding “his keen and sometimes bitter resentment against Chase, and waited the fullness of time when he could by some fortuitous circumstance remove Chase as a competitor, or by some shrewd manipulation of politics make him a hopeless one.”

    The fatal blow that finally rendered Chase’s candidacy “a hopeless one” came shortly after the Pomeroy Circular, when the Lincoln forces were able to secure a unanimous endorsement of Lincoln from the Republicans in the Ohio legislature. Now secure in his position, Lincoln decided to retain Chase in the Cabinet. A few days later, a “sore and unhappy” Chase withdrew from the contest. Despite this public disavowal, many thought that Chase would leap again at the chance to be nominated if the opportunity arose. Yet, even after Chase withdrew from the race, several Radicals conspired to either bring him back or bolt to a new Party. The two main factors behind the continuous scheming and discontentment of the Radicals was the seeming reluctance to fully embrace Reconstruction, shown in his Louisiana policy and the veto of the Southern Territories Bill, but also in his lack of open support for the Constitutional Amendment the Congress had been drafting since late 1863.

    Republicans had arrived at the conclusion that an amendment was necessary to fully destroy slavery in the latter half of 1863. For years, a pillar of anti-slavery politics had been that the odious institution was weak, that it would easily collapse if subjected to the strain of war. “Disunion is abolition”, Republicans warned during the secession crisis, predicting that slavery would easily collapse. Yet, even after three years of war and despite the commitment of the Union Army to military emancipation since the Proclamation was signed in 1862, slavery proved to be sturdier than previously thought. None of the proclamations and laws had “reached the root of slavery and prepared for the destruction of the system”, asserted one Congressman. “We have made some men free, but the system yet lives.” Slavery, another representative declared, was a “condemned” but “unexecuted culprit”. Given that it was not dead, “should we not recognize the fact and provide for the execution?”

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    Political cartoon mocking Chase's lack of success

    But the form the death sentence was to take was still hotly debated. One possible approach, mostly favored by Lincoln, was abolition at the state level. Federal pressure would eventually result in abolition in Maryland, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Missouri, but that laid months in the future when in December 1863 the Thirty-Eighth Congress started its first regular session. More critically, if the States could abolish slavery, then they could also reestablish it eventually. Only Federal power seemed capable of securing the destruction of slavery and preventing the reenslavement of those who had already been freed. At first, some Republicans believed they could invoke this power by means of ordinary legislation. Early on the session, Senator John Hale thus introduced a bill that abolished slavery legislative. But, as historian James Oakes explains, Hale’s bill went against the Federal consensus that the Republican Party had upheld and respected since its inception: that the Constitution protected slavery and Congress had no power to directly interfere with it in the States.

    A few Republicans, including Hale and Sumner, had abandoned this consensus recently, arguing instead that the Founders had, in truth, created an anti-slavery document that empowered Congress to abolish slavery everywhere. If Northerners had previously believed that slavery was protected in the States, they asserted, it was only because of the distortions of the Slave Power. This new position coincided with the launching of a “fresh moral agitation” by Northern abolitionists, which saw Congress inundated by petitions and letters, including a “monster” petition with over 100,000 signatures recollected by the Women’s National Loyal League, and delivered to the Senate by two Black men. Despite these efforts, the great majority of Republicans clung to the idea that Congress could not abolish slavery on its own power because the Constitution did not grant the power.

    Yet, Republicans had also reached the conclusion that slavery had to be destroyed. The logical answer was then that the Constitution itself had to be changed to destroy slavery and grant the national government the power to enforce emancipation. “The only effectual way of ridding the country of slavery”, concluded a Senator, “and so that it cannot be resuscitated, is by an amendment to the Constitution”. Though a logical, almost obvious step, amending the Constitution had not been considered even by abolitionists because the document had been “almost universally revered as the capstone of the American Revolution—the near-perfect handiwork of the Founders”. Abolitionists had spent several decades arguing that the Founders had been actually against slavery and had carefully constructed an anti-slavery reading of the Constitution. This had been necessary to justify anti-slavery policies, but also to conciliate the Northern people’s admiration for the Founders by invoking the “ultimate extinction” of slavery as what they had wanted.

    The Republicans’ decision to amend the Constitution precipitated the “end of the Federal consensus”, as Republicans presented a new understanding of the relationship between the Constitution and slavery. “In the prewar telling, slavery would be overthrown when the Slave Power was dislodged and the original meaning of the Constitution was restored”, James Oakes explains. But, “in the revised version the Founders were certainly well intentioned, yet they had made a fatal mistake”, when they compromised with slavery, believing it was already dying. “But slavery didn’t die”, Oakes continues, “it flourished, and the Slave Power flourished with it, thanks to the fatal concessions the Founders had made to slavery at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia.” Instead of being infallible, the Founders had been mistaken, “eluded and deceived” by the Slave Power when they had at first “believed slavery would wither and die beneath rays of the Christian and democratic institutions they founded”, related Henry Wilson. Just like the Founders in 1787, Republicans in 1864 had weakened slavery, but they could not repeat their forefathers’ mistakes and allow it to survive.

    Two versions of the amendment were introduced, the first being a “conservative” one in the House which invoked the language of the Northwest Ordinance of 1787: “Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction”. However, Charles Sumner, considering the wording of “the Jefferson ordinance” insufficient, introduced an alternate “radical” amendment that instead harkened to the French Declaration of the Rights of Man: “all persons are equal before the law, so that no person can hold another as a slave.” At first it seemed like Sumner’s version would be defeated, with Senator Howard rebuking his college for referencing “French constitutions or French codes” and insisting he “go back to . . . good old Anglo-Saxon language”. Sumner at first seemed willing to concede defeat, but the convergence of the amendment with the Southern Territories Bill resulted in a desire for a more radical amendment.

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    Female abolitionists played an important part in the destruction of slavery

    The reasons behinds the amendment here discussed – the desire to secure the destruction of slavery, anxiety over the future of the freedmen, a certainty that Lincoln’s military powers hadn’t adequately prepped the ground for Reconstruction – are all also reasons for Republican support for the Southern Territories Bill. It might seem puzzling, then, that the Congress advanced both measures simultaneously. But this misunderstands the essential fact that the amendment and the bill responded to different, if related, concerns, providing distinct solutions for distinct problems. The bill was meant to secure Reconstruction; the amendment to secure Emancipation. For Republicans, these goals were intertwined, for Reconstruction couldn’t be without Emancipation. But they had concluded that legislative emancipation wasn’t possible. An Emancipation amendment was then necessary for the bill to be effective. Consequently, there was no reason why the bill and the amendment couldn’t be worked on at the same time, as they were during the first months of 1864.

    Yet, as the months progressed, the amendment ran intro trouble. Unlike a legislative act, which only needed a majority, an amendment would need a two-thirds supermajority. Republicans, on account of their strong performance in the 1862 midterms, had secured it in both Houses of Congress, but they were thin, brittle majorities. This meant that the agreement of almost every single Republican would be needed for the amendment to pass, and this wasn’t a sure thing. Part of the problem was that the President remained aloof from the debate. t's possible that Lincoln still believed that the state-by-state basis he was enacting through the Quarter Plan was the better choice, and feared that endorsing the amendment would undermine his efforts. In any case, even the most conservative Republicans still believed that the amendment was good policy.

    Reverdy Johnson proved to be a lonely Chesnut voice in favor of the amendment when he declared slavery “an evil of the highest character”, and its destruction a prerequisite to “a prosperous and permanent peace”. The rest started a fiery counterattack. The arguments they wielded were familiar in their racism, yet the debate is still extraordinary because it was the first national debate where both factions openly and honestly focused on slavery itself. Despite electoral defeats, internal divisions, and political suppression, the Chesnuts closed ranks, because whatever divisions affected their party they could agree on the essential argument that slavery had to be preserved for the benefit of the White man. Emancipation, they argued, would lead to the “amalgamation” of the races, and would “set free four million ignorant and debased negroes to swarm the country with pestilential effect.” Condemning how the Union Army was sweeping the South “with a sword in one hand and a fire-brand in the other, burning and destroying as they went, in order to . . . wipe out the white people of the country and supplant them by black free men”, Chesnuts presented themselves as the merely performing their “high and patriotic duty to let the negro slide”.

    Republican attempts to force Emancipation were just “a tyrannical destruction of individual property”. Opening a letter from Fernando Wood, who had fled to Europe due to his links with the New York riots, a Chesnut representative effected tears as he talked of “my persecuted colleague, for whom a dreary dungeon or a despot’s firing squad await for the crime of defending property and constitutional government”. His reading of the letter was interrupted by heckling led by Thaddeus Stevens, who exclaimed that if Lincoln was such a tyrant “you, sir, would be hanging from a hemp rope right now – as you and all other traitors ought to!” Nonetheless, Wood’s argument that the amendment would “alter the whole structure and theory of government by changing the basis upon which it rests”, was echoed by other Chesnuts, like Kentucky’s Robert Mallory who warned that if the States’ right to decide on slavery was overturned, “One after another right will be usurped . . . until all State rights will be gone, and perhaps State limits obliterated.”

    As almost always, Republicans paid little mind to these arguments, but still felt the need to respond to them. What’s truly interesting is not the racism of the conservative speeches, for this was usual, but the fact that Republicans were now openly defending the rights of Black people. Beyond the usual denial of the right of “property in man”, long a pillar of their thought, Republicans now asserted the citizenship of Black people and even mocked “the claims for Black racial inferiority”. Senator Howe said that the idea that Black people “as a race are inferior to the whites” was the “one single excuse . . . more odious than the crime” of slavery itself. The amendment would give birth to a “new nation” where “liberty, equality before the law is to be the great cornerstone”, insisted Arnold. To end “the defiant pretensions of the master, claiming control of his slave”, Sumner said, they would, through the amendment and the Southern Territories bill, empower to National government to protect the freedom they were granting. As the Chicago Tribune summarized, “events have proved that the danger to . . . freedom is from the states, not the Federal government.”

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    Charles Sumner speaking in favor of the amendment

    In early April, with a unanimous Republican vote and with the support of some Northern and Border State Chesnuts, the “conservative” version of the amendment was approved in the Senate. At almost the same time, an almost unanimous Republican vote, now with close to no Chesnut support at all, approved the Southern Territories Bill. These twin measures, Sumner celebrated, would both grant freedom to the enslaved and make the Federal government “the custodian of freedom”, with the power to protect the freedmen in their liberty and rights. But, as examined previously, Lincoln vetoed the Southern Territories Bill to maintain control over the Reconstruction process. This decision had fateful consequences for the amendment. By then, many Northerners considered that the Congress was seeking to rebuke Lincoln, to show him that “his petty tinkering devices of emancipation and feeble plans for Reconstruction will not answer”, as the New York Herald said. And indeed, given his refusal to accept the bill, Radicals now believed they ought to support a more radical version of the amendment.

    Then, another event profoundly changed the discussion around both Lincoln’s reelection and the amendment – John Wilkes Booth’s attempt on the President’s life. Just before the assassination, an “inconsolable” Sumner met with other Radicals, including Pomeroy and Wade, in a conference that “boded no good to Father Abraham”, a newspaper surmised. The main objective, a still embittered Davis admitted boldly, was “to get rid of Mr Lincoln”, who, in his view, had already practically secured the Republican nomination. As they discussed whether they would present a separate candidate in the Convention, with Frémont, Chase, Grant, and Butler all discussed, or whether they would call for a separate Convention, news of Booth’s attack arrived, and ended their efforts for the time being as almost all Northerners rallied around Lincoln and attacked his enemies.

    This resulted in the apex of the second political movement mentioned beforehand – the conservative cabal that wanted Lincoln to abandon the Radicals of his Party. The dream of a conservative coalition was one that refused to die, being proposed ever since the war started. But as the disagreements between Radicals and Moderates mounted, several Conservative Republicans and Moderate Chesnuts believed they could convince Lincoln to desert the Radicals, with their dogmatism and abuse towards him, and instead embrace a renewed “National American Party” that would follow his policies. The main architects of this scheme were the Conservative Republicans that hated the “monomaniacs” and their “devotion to the negro” as the New York Times called them. This included Thurlow Weed, Seward’s ally and “alter-ego”; the Blairs, who after flirting with the Chesnuts now thought they could retake a leading position in the party; and moderate Chesnut politicians led by Samuel J. Tilden, a New York politico who was willing to recognize the end of slavery and advocate for unconditional victory, as long as this meant a “conservative, constitutional policy of restoration”.

    Most of these men suddenly forgot their hostility to Lincoln to aid him in his struggle against Chase, and for a time Lincoln seemed receptive to their overtures. Frank Blair, elected as a “Unionist” from Missouri, received Lincoln’s support for a bid to be Speaker of the House when the first session opened, the President offering to restore his Army commission whenever he wanted. The effort failed, but the thankful Frank Blair still launched a “savage” attack on Chase, accusing him of corruption in the Treasury Department. Blair then joined the attacks on Chase with more generalized attacks against Radicalism. Echoing Chesnut arguments, Blair lambasted “the revolutionary schemes of the ultra abolitionists”, which would result in the “amalgamation” of the races and the eradication of the States. Instead of Reconstruction, they should advocate Restoration of each rebel state to “its place in the councils of the nation with all its attributes and rights”. Intimating that, in fact, the assassination attempt wasn’t the fault of Copperheads but of “the Negro worshippers” that wanted to “rid of the President by any bloody means, just as they want to elevate the Negro by any bloody means”, Blair thundered that they could not win their attempt to replace Lincoln.

    By basically repeating the arguments the Chesnuts had wielded against the amendment and the Southern Territories Bill, Blair had taken things too far, misjudging both the values of Moderate Republicans and Lincoln’s own principles. Although he was a Radical, Thaddeus Stevens’s denunciation of Blair as “this apostate,” whose address was “much more infamous than any speech yet made by a Copperhead orator”, was one most Republicans would agree with. Ultimately, Lincoln was committed to Reconstruction, not Restoration, and he agreed with his Party that slavery had to be destroyed. He was, moreover, committed to the policies of land redistribution, limited Black suffrage, and Federal protection of the freedmen. The disagreement was not with objectives or principles, but with methods and practicability, and by asking Lincoln to abandon Republican ethos in favor of watered-down Copperheadism, Blair set himself up for failure. Remarking that Blair’s speeches meant “that another beehive was kicked over”, Lincoln refused to renew his commission as promised. Soon enough, Blair and Weed would come to fully support Tilden’s schemes.

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    Franklin Preston Blair

    When the Republican Convention opened in June, the prevailing Northern mood exhibited a mix of extreme bitterness against traitors and effusive praise for Lincoln. “The Almighty has saved Father Abraham to led us on to victory and peace”, Republicans cheered in the streets of Philadelphia, as mock effigies of Booth were burned, and people held “Lincoln Logs”. “Do it again Uncle Abe”, said banners that depicted the President hitting Booth and also Confederates like Breckinridge and Lee. Three great portraits of Lamon, Lyon, and Reynolds, the ”martyrs of liberty who laid down their lives that Father Abraham, and thus the nation might live” were seen in the entrance of the Convention hall. In every corner there seemed to be speakers condemning the “rebel leader Breckinridge” who joined “cowardly and bloody assassinations to his long catalogue of horrendous crimes”. For organizing the assassinations, something virtually all Northerners believed, Breckinridge “would be hung from a sour apple tree alongside all his crew, and then suffer the everlasting torture of flames”.

    In reaction to the prevailing pro-Lincoln mood, almost all Radicals had climbed aboard the Lincoln bandwagon, even if reluctantly. They, however, hadn’t abandoned their principles. Even if they had largely given up the idea that Lincoln could be replaced, they still believed that better protections than his Reconstruction plan offered had to be enacted for the safety of the Union and of the freedmen. Sumner and his allies thus had resuscitated the radical version of the constitutional amendment, which included not only the destruction of slavery, but also a guarantee of equality before the law. To ward off charges of consulting French codes, Sumner instead looked to the Declaration of Independence for inspiration. In its final form the amendment read:

    SEC. 1. The United States is founded on the self-evident truths that people are born and remain free and equal before the law, endowed in certain unalienable rights. It is the purpose and duty of the government of the United States, and of the governments of the several States, to protect and defend these rights.​
    SEC. 2. Consequently, neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall ever exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.​
    SEC. 3. All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. Neither the government of the United States, nor the government of the several States, shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States, recognized in the Constitution and the laws of Congress; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.​
    SEC. 4. The denial, or the attempt to denial, any of the rights recognized in the Constitution or the laws of Congress, or to deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, by either the governments of the several States or by individual persons, acting on their own or in combinations, shall be a crime the penalty whereof the Congress shall be able to prescribe.​
    SEC. 5. Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.​

    The Radical amendment was the culmination of years of evolution of Republican thought. It did not only destroy slavery but represented an enlargement of Federal power that would allow the government, beyond a shadow of doubt, to protect the freedmen and Unionists, punish the rebels, and secure the legality and perpetuity of Reconstruction. Many, at the time and latter, were struck by the seeming leap from a simple abolition of slavery to a comprehensive centralization of government that allowed the National administration to define rights and enforce them against both the actions of States and individuals. But it merely represented the growing consensus in the Republican Party – that slavery had to be destroyed, rebels punished, the rights of the loyal protected by Federal power, and that equality before the law was the logical and just result of the war.

    At first, it seemed like the passing of this radical version was an impossibility. Many Republicans fretted that it was too extreme, and the dissent of some conservative elements would be enough to defeat it given the thin Republican majorities. Indeed, the radical amendment went down in defeat in late May. It seemed like Republicans would instead vote for the simple conservative amendment, but several radicals close to Sumner then decided to vote against it, still holding out hope for passing the radical version. Not all Radicals agreed with Sumner. Thaddeus Stevens urged Sumner to not oppose the amendment any more, arguing that they could later enact its provisions through ordinary legislation or another amendment. The important part was destroying slavery as soon as possible. But Sumner wouldn’t budge, and with the votes of Chesnuts and Radicals the amendment failed. It had “been slaughtered by a puerile and pedantic criticism,” Stevens grieved, “by the united forces of self-righteous Republicans and unrighteous Republicans.”

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    The 1864 Republican National Convention

    But an encouraging sign came soon, when pro-Lincoln congressmen voted with the Radicals to extend the session into the summer. Days later, Senator E.D. Morgan of New York opened the Republican National Convention by declaring, at Lincoln’s urging, that the Convention ought to be in favor of “an amendment of the Constitution as will positively prohibit African slavery in the United States” and “will give the National government the power to protect the loyal and just against the depredations of treason, extending the equal protection of the Constitution and the laws to all citizens”. Lincoln had, effectively, declared in favor of the Radical version of the amendment. Behind the scenes, his managers made it clear that this support was in exchange of Radical approval for Lincoln and later support for his Reconstruction plan. With the amendment having “remedied the deficiencies found in the plan hitherto followed”, a Radical replied, they could “all rally loyally around the Great Emancipator”.

    At the same time as Lincoln extended this olive branch to the Radicals, his managers used the carrot and the stick to obtain the support of the grumbling conservatives. Unionism and patriotism was emphasized instead of party spirit and dogmatism. The Confederate President’s Uncle, Doctor Robert J. Breckinridge, declared that the Republicans had become an “Union party” that he would “follow to the ends of the earth”. A parade of politicians stopped by Lincoln’s summer residence in the outskirts of the city “to pay their respects and engrave on the expectant mind of the Tycoon, their images, in view of future contingencies”, reported John Hay. To the conservatives that disappointedly said it was merely an “Abolition Party”, Lincoln said that “the common end is the maintenance of the security and perpetuity of the Union,” and “among the means to secure that end” is the constitutional amendment “abolishing slavery throughout the United States and . . . giving the nation the power to enforce loyalty and respect for the Constitution.”

    At the end, Radicals and Conservatives alike recognized that Lincoln was in a very strong position and that there was little hope of effectively challenging him from either side. Conservatives saw in him the only moderate, reasonable choice, and were satisfied that his veto of the Southern Territories Bill and his insistence on moderate Reconstruction in Louisiana were proof that he would adhere to a fundamentally conservative policy. Radicals were mollified by his support for the Radical amendment, celebrating that Lincoln still agreed with them on the objectives and meaning of the war, and believing that he could still be persuaded to take even more radical measures, such as universal Black suffrage. Their position was summarized by the abolitionists Lydia Maria Child, we thought they “have reason to thank God for Abraham Lincoln,” for “preserving him from traitors and assassins”, for despite “all his deficiencies . . . he has grown continuously; . . . it’s a great good luck to have the people elect a man who is willing to grow.”

    At the end, Lincoln was in complete control of the Republican Party, showing his political genius. “The opposition is so utterly beaten,” boasted David Davis, “that the fight is not even interesting.” Bowing to their defeat, even enemies of Lincoln that had denouncing him day and night, such as Weed’s New Yorkers or Radical Missouri Charcoals, voted with unanimity for him. With a “grand cheer for Union and Liberty”, the Convention unanimously endorsed Lincoln for President, for his “practical wisdom, the unselfish patriotism and unswerving fidelity to the Constitution”, endorsed the radical version of the amendment, and called for the “unconditional surrender and complete Reconstruction” of the Confederacy. To punctuate this fiery Unionism, the Convention selected as Lincoln’s running mate the Kentuckian judge Joseph Holt, who had gone from being a part of Buchanan’s cabinet to a committed Republican fire-brand that enforced emancipation and the law in Kentucky against state officials that kept trying to nullify the laws of Congress and the proclamations of the President.

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    Joseph Holt

    A few days later, the Congress took up the amendment again. Why did Lincoln support the amendment, many have wondered, when he had just rejected the Southern Territories Bill? This question has led many to decide that it must have been because the assassination attempt changed his thinking. In some ways, it did, for it reinforced Lincoln’s view that he had become “an accidental instrument in God’s hands”. But this was not a self-aggrandizing belief that he was the Chosen one, but a humble admittance that he still had a part to play in God’s grand design. If He had saved Lincoln, it was because he hadn’t fulfilled his part yet. Through this fatalism, the belief that “his destiny was controlled by some larger force, some Higher Power”, Lincoln had rationalized the heavy losses of the war as something the Creator intended to purge the nation of its sins. The sacrifice of Lamon, Reynolds, and Lyon, Lincoln came to regard as an act of God so that Lincoln could accomplish the great work He had set out for him.

    Lincoln’s support for the radical amendment also shows his own inner growth, for he had come to believe firmly that the Federal government ought to protect the loyal, Black and White, and that all should enjoy equality before the law. “I am naturally anti-slavery”, the President wrote in a public letter. “If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong.” Yet he recognized that being President had not “conferred upon me an unrestricted right to act officially upon this judgment and feeling”. His greatest duty was towards the Union, but preserving it made a necessity the “laying strong hand upon the colored element”. Given that the nation had asked for the aid of the Black man, it had to offer him protections and rights. If Lincoln allowed the war to end with the Black people that had “suffered for the cause of their country” still enslaved, or still bereft of rights and victimized by unpunished rebels, Lincoln would be breaking the promise they had made when they first joined the cause of Liberty with the cause of the Union. “As a matter of morals, could such treachery . . . escape the curses of Heaven, or of any good man?”, Lincoln asked. The answer was a firm no, and for that reason Lincoln endorsed the amendment as “a fitting and necessary conclusion” that would permanently join the causes of “Liberty and Union”.

    Finally, Lincoln could accept the amendment because unlike the Southern Territories Bill, which sought to wrestle control of Reconstruction away from him, the amendment merely extended what had by then become standard Republican doctrine. Lincoln, basically, agreed that slavery had to be ended, that Black people deserved equality and freedom, and that the Federal government had to have the power to enforce this against both states and individuals. He most likely would have taken all actions necessary for these goals with or without amendment, but accepting the Radical version, besides mollifying this faction and earning their loyalty, would secure the legality and stability of Reconstruction. The Southern Territories Bill, with its possibly unconstitutional program and stark differences from the President’s program, was not acceptable; the amendment was.

    Some believe that Lincoln used other methods, including bribes and offers of political posts, to convince the Congressmen. Stevens for example would later remark, with some admiration, that “The greatest measure of the nineteenth century was passed by corruption, aided and abetted by the purest man in America”. Nothing has been conclusively proved. But just a few days after Lincoln was renominated the Senate passed the radical amendment with unanimous Republican support, the opposition of some Senators who had supported the conservative version not enough. The ailing Owen Lovejoy, who would die just a few days later, was brought into the chamber to say a weak but convinced “aye”, clinging to life just to see “his great wish, that for which his brother and thousands of brothers, fathers, and sons gave their lives” accomplished. Then, in a tense session, the House voted. Abolitionists, including women and Black people, watched on as the votes were tallied. When it was over, every single Republican had voted in favor; every single Chesnut had voted against. But it was enough – with just two votes to spare, the amendment had passed.

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    Celebrations after the passing of the 13th amendment

    “And then you ought to have heard the galleries,” Senator Howe wrote his niece. “They sprang to their feet clapping hands, stamping, shouting, yelling, waving handkerchiefs.” “Members joined in the shouting and kept it up for some minutes”, a representative said, “some embraced one another, others wept like children. I have felt, ever since the vote, as if I were in a new country.” As a powerful sign of the Revolution, Black reporters and gentlemen were allowed into the House and Republican lawmakers embraced them and cried in joy with them, while surly Chesnuts slipped away in disgust and defeat. “In honor of this immortal and sublime event”, both Houses adjourned, and many lawmakers joined the celebrations outside. Jubilee quickly spread through the streets of Philadelphia, and then of the North as a whole, as great crowds celebrated its passage with songs, cheers and a great “thank you to Father Abraham”. “Senators shook hands, old friends clapped each other’s shoulders, women shed tears, and joy reigned!” a reporter wrote of the scenes in Philadelphia. “O Gentle Reader, it was good to be there”.

    Lincoln received the news of the passage of the amendment at almost the same time as a Union League delegation came to congratulate him on his renomination. With unconcealed gratification, the President thanked the delegation for considering him “not entirely unworthy” or reelection. This, he said, reminded him of “a story of an old Dutch farmer, who remarked to a companion once that ‘it was not best to swap horses when crossing streams.’” Yet, turning to the Congressional messengers, he stated that maybe they had already crossed one of the most perilous streams, now that they had the amendment, “a King’s cure for all the evils.” Unnecessarily affixing his signature to the amendment, Lincoln expressed his gratification that they now had a measure that would truly “eradicate slavery and secure equality for all citizens”.

    And so, the Republican Party took to the campaign trail in 1864 with Abraham Lincoln as its standard bearer and the 13th amendment, that abolished slavery and declared equality before the law, at the center of its platform. All Northern state legislatures controlled by Republicans soon ratified the amendment, and it was sure to be ratified in others more when they opened their sessions. However, most likely the ratifications of some Confederate states would be needed as well. The Republicans had thus committed themselves to building a new nation upon the ashes of civil war, but this had as its necessary corollary the unconditional defeat and dismantlement of the Confederacy by military victory. In the summer of 1864, it didn’t seem like this victory was fore-coming. The disorder brought about by the assassinations of Lyon and Reynolds had a negative effect in the Army’s organization, and a still defiant Confederacy appeared still capable of resisting. The jubilee and unity of June gave way to desperation in July and August, as schemes to replace Lincoln and a clamor for peace revived. Lincoln had been renominated, but whether he was reelected had still to be decided on the battlefields of Virginia and Georgia.

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