bannerbanner
Secrets of the Late Rebellion
Secrets of the Late Rebellionполная версия

Полная версия

Secrets of the Late Rebellion

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2017
Добавлена:
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
На страницу:
16 из 20

Thus matters had gone on, and were going on, up to the time when the last case recorded in the previous chapter was decided by the court. The publicity given to that case, by the publication at length of the Judge's opinion in the New York Times and other Northern papers, aroused the entire pro-slavery secession-sympathizing element of the Northern States, and in a few days thereafter it came surging into Washington like a flood. It beat against the door of every Cabinet officer; it rolled and tumbled about in every hotel and drinking-saloon; it surged violently against the White House; and even found its way into the executive chamber. Mr. Bates now put on renewed and increased vigor, and insisted with the President, that, as all United States courts belonged to his department, and the people held him responsible, as Attorney-General, for their doings and misdoings, he, and he alone, ought to have the deciding of the Alexandria matter, and, if left with him, he would at once suppress the court.

When things had reached this crisis, the President sent word to Judge Freese to call upon him at his earliest convenience. The Judge, after being stationed at Alexandria, had, during the first few months, called frequently upon President Lincoln, Secretary Seward, and Secretary Cameron, as he had known them all personally, and somewhat intimately, for many years; but for the month preceding this word from the President, the Judge had been kept so exceedingly busy with the affairs of his court that he had scarcely been to Washington. On the afternoon of the next day after getting Mr. Lincoln's message, Judge Freese called upon him, and was received with the utmost cordiality. So soon as they were entirely alone, the President told the Judge of the position which Attorney-General Bates had taken with reference to the Alexandria court, and added: "I really think Bates will resign unless he can have his own way in this thing. I wish, Doctor, you would call upon him at once, and see if you can't change his mind. It would be a dreadful thing, just now, when we are in the midst of a war, to have any Cabinet officer resign, as our enemies would regard it as showing weakness on our part, and as a triumph for themselves, and yet I don't want your court closed, if it can possibly be helped. Call upon Bates, Doctor, call upon Bates, and let me know the result."

From the President's room the Judge went direct to Mr. Bates's office and had a long conference with him. The Attorney-General, while admitting the correctness of Judge Freese's decisions, so far as he had heard of them, still insisted that there was no law by which the existence of such a court was authorized, and therefore it ought to cease its operations at once. The Judge admitted that he knew of no law by which such a court was authorized, but contended that "necessity knew no law," and that the existence of just such a court was a real necessity in Alexandria, not only as a means of preserving the peace of the city, but for all other purposes for which courts were ever used, since the State, county, and municipal courts had all run away when the Union troops came in, and this was the only court through which justice could be obtained in any case or for any purpose. All this, the Attorney-General said, seemed to be true, but it was better to wait for justice than to violate known rules of law in trying to obtain it. "The court has no legal existence, sir, the court has no legal existence," he kept saying over and over again, and this was his answer, and his only answer, to every argument brought forth by the Judge. The Judge finally made him this proposition: "If you, sir, will withdraw your opposition to the continuance of this court, I will enter into a bond with the United States government, in the sum of one hundred thousand dollars, with good and sufficient sureties, the condition of which bond shall be, that, when the war shall have ended, every case which has been adjudicated by that court, and every one which may be adjudicated by it hereafter, shall be revised by the Supreme Court of the United States, or by any one or more of the justices thereof, and if in any case it be found that injustice has been done, I will refund to the parties doubly the amount out of which they have been wronged because of the action of the court; or, if any punishment has been inflicted beyond what the Supreme Court will say was right, under the circumstances, I will pay to the party punished, or to his legal representatives, whatever damages the Supreme Court may adjudge."

"This, certainly," replied the Attorney-General, "is a very fair proposition on your part; but, sir, the court has no legal existence, no legal existence, and while I remain Attorney-General, and am responsible for whatever is done in this department of governmental affairs, I cannot consent that such a court shall continue."

This ended their interview, for the Judge plainly saw that he might talk till doomsday and yet not change the Attorney-General's mind an iota. "Convince a man against his will, and he remains of the same opinion still," says an old maxim, and never was the maxim better exemplified than in the case of Mr. Bates. He was one of those men who looked at everything, as it were, through a gun-barrel, and could see nothing to the right or left of the one line of vision; one of those men who are so straight, that, like the Indian's gun, they "lean a little over;" one of those self opinionated men, who, having once conceived an idea or prejudice, no amount of argument can change his mind.

The next day the Judge again called upon the President, and told him all that had passed between the Attorney-General and himself. The President laughed heartily at the "mulishness of old Bates," as he called it, and yet seemed a good deal annoyed at the unreasonable stubbornness manifested by the Attorney-General. He did not, he said, know what to do or to say. He was in a quandary, and could not see his way clearly out. Finally, he asked the Judge to call upon the Secretary of War, and see what he might say about it.

The Judge then called upon Mr. Cameron, and told him of the interviews he had had with the President and with the Attorney-General, relative to the Alexandria court. The Secretary listened attentively, and, when the Judge had finished, expressed opinions about the Attorney-General more forcible than polite. He talked, he said, "just like a d – d old traitor, and if he is not one, his own tongue belies him!" He strongly suspected, he said, that "both Bates and Blair were wolves in sheep's clothing, and this only went to confirm that opinion." He had, he said, "expressed as much to the President, and would do so again when next he met him." He had thought himself of resigning, rather than remain in the Cabinet in company "with such d – d rascals and traitors to their country." For a full half-hour the Secretary fairly raved with excitement, and when the Judge was about to leave, told him to hold on, let come what would.

In this connection it may be well to add that within a few weeks after that interview Mr. Cameron did resign his place in the cabinet, and Mr. E. M. Stanton was appointed in his stead; but whether Bates's action in the case of the Alexandria court was one of his reasons for resigning, we have no means of knowing, though it Is not at all improbable.

Again the Judge called upon the President, and told him what had passed between Secretary Cameron and himself. The President seemed now more confounded than ever, and finally told the Judge to let things rest for a few days until he could think over the matter, and see what was best to be done.

About a week after this, the aid-de-camp of General McClellan, who had so often before called upon General Montgomery, called again, and told him that it was General McClellan's special wish that the provost-court should have nothing more to do with civil cases, or cases touching the subject of slavery in any way. That while General McClellan greatly preferred not to issue a formal order on the subject, yet he would certainly do so if his wishes could not be carried out in any other way. He was not willing, the aid said, to have Judge Freese interfere with the old citizens of Alexandria in any way, though if he chose to continue the court merely for the punishment of soldiers who got drunk within the city limits, or otherwise disturbed the peace, he had no objection. At the same visit, the aid delivered to General Montgomery an order from General McClellan requiring the court to refund to the Alexandria hardware merchant the five hundred dollars which he had been required to pay as a fine, because of the assault, with threat to kill, upon the Union man – all of which has heretofore been related.

When the aid had gone, General Montgomery sent for Judge Freese, and they had a long conference as to what had best be done under the circumstances. The Judge had before told the General all that had passed between the President, the Attorney-General, the Secretary of War, and himself; and the General now told the Judge all that had passed between General McClellan's aid-de-camp and himself. The Judge said that under no circumstances could he consent to continue the court, if thenceforth it was only to punish soldiers for drunkenness and other misdemeanors; that it had been exceedingly distasteful to him from the first to have to punish a soldier at all, and now to punish him alone, and let citizens, who committed offences far worse, go free from punishment, would be, in his opinion, a mockery of justice, and he would not be the presiding officer of such a court; that, it having gone abroad that the court was willing and ready to assist Northern creditors in their efforts to collect claims against disloyal debtors, it would now be exceedingly unpleasant to have to deny such claimants as might thereafter call, and, rather than have to do this, he would much prefer to see the court closed; for then the public would place the responsibility just where it belonged. The Judge added, that he knew the court was placing the President in a very embarrassing position, so far as related to his Cabinet; that, while Cameron and Seward were anxious to have the court continue, Bates and Blair were just as anxious to have it suppressed; and from the order just received from General McClellan to return the five hundred dollars fine, it was entirely clear that the secessionists of Alexandria, and the sympathizers with secession at the North, had gained complete control over him; from all of which the Judge thought it would be best to close the court.

General Montgomery fully concurred with the Judge in all these views, and added that, as the court had been organized upon his order, without first consulting with General McClellan or the President, he would much prefer to have it close voluntarily, than to be compelled to close it upon the order of General McClellan or of the President. The Judge replied, that while he believed that President Lincoln would never issue such an order, no matter what the consequences to himself might be, still he should be glad to relieve the President from what to him was evidently a great embarrassment; and if he, General Montgomery, would issue an order directing the court to close its operations on the next or any day following, he, the Judge, would gladly announce the order from the bench and adjourn the court sine die.

Such was the conclusion finally agreed upon. General Montgomery wrote out the necessary order and handed it to the Judge. Next day, after all the business before the court had been disposed of as usual, the Judge read General Montgomery's order from the bench, and explained to those present why it had been issued. Had a cannon burst then and there and killed a hundred men, the surprise could not have been greater. Some raved at Attorney-General Bates, and pro-slavery men generally; others cursed General McClellan and Northern sympathizers with rebellion, generally; deep and somewhat loud were the mutterings among all present; but the order was irrevocable, and thus closed at once and forever the provost-court of Alexandria.

Had that court been continued, and others like it established in every city of the South, so soon as they came into the possession of Union troops, at least one hundred millions of dollars would have been collected from the property of Southern debtors and gone into the pockets of Northern creditors; the war would have ended two years sooner; over five hundred millions of dollars would have been saved to the United States treasury; and over one hundred thousand lives been saved to the homes and families of both the North and the South. Only at the last judgment-day will it be known how great was the mistake – a mistake which, in its ultimate consequences, was not less ruinous to the South than to the North – of those who insisted upon, and who finally compelled, the closing of the provost-court at Alexandria.

We say this after a full consideration of the whole subject as drawn from the facts heretofore detailed in this volume, and do not think we shall have to take a single word of it back. True, very true, as eloquently stated in a letter from our old friend, J. E. Brush, Esq., of New York – "Floyd, Thompson, and Cobb, of Buchanan's Cabinet, had so disarmed and depleted the government of means, that Lincoln had very slender resources; and the gullibility of Northern business men in filling the orders of Southern men for war material, for months previous to the opening of the war, proves that they meant business, while the North did not take in the situation at all;" still we think, but for the secret machinations of Northern sympathizers – of men on whom, for a time, the government relied and entirely trusted, including generals in the field, officers in the navy, and even officers in the Cabinet – the war would have been ended at least two years sooner, and hundreds of millions saved to the taxpayers of the country.

We are aware that such a statement at first sight seems extravagant, if not wild; but if the reader will carefully weigh each factor of the problem, and follow out the relation which each bears to the other; and then if he will suspend judgment until he shall have read the last chapter and last line of this book – so that he shall have all the facts before him, all the secret springs which were so adroitly worked, but of which nobody even suspected the existence, all the villanies of men singly and of men united in political and religious associations – we have no doubt at all but what he will reach the same conclusion that we have reached in the above paragraph. Facts and figures never lie when properly placed; but men are so disposed to shut their eyes against unpleasant facts, and so inclined to place figures in such a way as will bring the result they wish for, that the most palpable truths are often hid, and kept hid, from the public, until by some accident or incident the secrets are revealed, as in this volume.

CHAPTER XVII. FACTS, FIGURES, AND FAIR INFERENCES

WHEN, on the 15th of April, 1861, Abraham Lincoln, as President of the United States, called for 75,000 men, for three months, to suppress the rebellion, he did it after repeated consultations with every member of his Cabinet, both when assembled in council and privately with each individual member. That Cabinet was one of the ablest, if not the very ablest, that any President of the United States ever had about him. William H. Seward had been Governor of New York, had long been United States Senator, and understood the strength and resources of each individual State, and of the whole Union, as well, probably, as any man then living. Salmon P. Chase had been Governor of Ohio, long a United States Senator, was a thorough statistician, mathematician, and financier, and had made the resources of both States and nation a long and faithful study. Simon Cameron had been a statistician and banker nearly his whole life, had long been a United States Senator, was a man of unusually strong common sense, and had, from a political stand-point, made the Southern States and their peculiar institutions and resources a special study. Wells and Smith were good, strong, practical-sensed men; while Blair and Bates were both Southern men, were thoroughly conversant with the institutions, with the leading men, with the wealth, and with the resources of every Southern State.

One would have thought the combined wisdom of such a body of men as near perfection, as near certainty in political prophecy, as it was possible for men to attain, when judging of the future by inferences drawn from actual knowledge of the past and present; and yet, subsequent events proved that never were men wider from the mark than were these men in advising the President to call out 75,000 men for three months to subdue the rebellion. Why this great error of calculation and judgment?

Those who have carefully read the preceding chapters of this book will have the answer, in part, but not the whole answer. Of course, President Lincoln and his Cabinet thoroughly understood the sympathy which existed between English cotton-spinners and American cotton-growers, and, in their calculations, made due allowance for this feeling. They also understood thoroughly the sympathy existing between the aristocracy of England and king cotton of America; for they well knew that the aristocracy of England were largely the owners of those cotton-mills or furnished the capital with which to run them. For this, then, they also made due allowance in all their calculations; and, with a view to checkmate this influence as far as possible, sent Thurlow Weed on a secret mission to England. They understood the business relations of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company with the Southern States, as well as the relations of other incorporated companies, and of merchants generally, with the South. They knew of the debt that was then owing – nearly two hundred millions of dollars – from Southern merchants to Northern merchants, and fully comprehended the sympathy which such community of interests would naturally create between the parties; and for all this made due allowance. They understood, of course, the love of gain natural to every man, and that merchants, manufacturers, and others, by the thousands, would be on the constant lookout to make money out of the war in any possible way commensurate with their own safety; and for this made due allowance in their calculations as to what was to be overcome. And last, but not least, they well understood the general sympathy which was felt by the Democratic party of the North for the people and peculiar institutions of the South, and how ready some of the leaders of that party would be to aid the South in any way they could with safety to themselves; but they also understood that a very large number of the followers of the masses – of the bone and sinew of that party – were patriotic; while another portion, and a very large portion, would be ready to hire themselves to do whatever would pay best, and that if large monthly pay and large bounties were offered, these men would be as ready to hire themselves to kill their fellow-men as to slaughter cattle; and with these two elements (the patriotic and the mercenary), they believed the party could be so far controlled as to prevent it from doing any material injury to the Union cause.

But while comprehending all these things, and making due allowance for them all, they did not comprehend nor make allowance for the deep-seated, desperate, condemnable villany that was hid away in the hearts of these same Democratic leaders, and that would come forth from its hiding-places whenever and wherever it could do so with the hope of gain to itself, or with the hope of so crippling the Union cause that it would finally fail, when the affairs of the government would again fall into the hands of the Democratic party.

They did not comprehend, nor was it possible for any human foresight to have conceived any one of the many secret devices recorded in the preceding chapters of this volume, whereby men could and would serve the rebellion in the guise of Unionism; whereby men would, while playing the patriot, really be the most desperate rebels At heart; whereby men could, while receiving pay as generals in the Union army, do acts whereby millions of dollars were lost to loyal merchants; whereby transportation companies would, through its leading officers, while receiving large pay from the United States government for services legitimately rendered, be all the while aiding the rebellion by furnishing ships and money with which to exchange cotton for war materials and army supplies; whereby, in a word, the Democratic party, as a party would so exercise its influence that vice disguised would seem virtue personified; that the promise of a candidacy to the office of President would so change the heart and paralyze the arm of a Union general as to make him favor the rebel cause by delays, and by transferring (through the closing of a provost-court) the sinews of war (millions of dollars) from Union pockets to rebel coffers; that steamship companies, while receiving the protection of Union arms, would be all the while aiding the rebel cause; and that men, otherwise regarded as honorable, high-minded gentlemen, would, because of old political prejudice and present gain, meet in secret conclaves in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, and then and there concoct the most desperate measures in aid of rebellion. These were secrets which no human eye could penetrate, exigencies against which no human foresight could provide, and hence it cannot be said in truth that these men failed in judgment, since they only failed upon points which were entirely outside of all human calculation.

But for these things, three months' service of 75,000 men would have been amply sufficient to crush the rebellion, and from this we draw our first inference – which no one can pronounce otherwise than fair – that whatever time it took beyond three months to crush the rebellion, whatever men it took beyond 75,000, whatever money it cost beyond the pay of 75,000 for three months, together with collateral expenses for the same time, and whatever lives it cost beyond what would have been the probable mortality among the 75,000, are chargeable, fairly chargeable, unquestionably chargeable, to the Democratic party as a party. We are careful to say as a party, for we know many individuals of that party who are as honorable, as pure, as patriotic as any in the Republican party, and who only continue their connection with that party (for they know its past sins and present corruptions quite as well as we do) either because their fathers were Democrats' and they do not wish to be regarded as "turn-coats," or because they think the chances of political preferment are better in the Democratic than in the Republican party; or, as they have sometimes replied to us, half in jest and half in earnest, "the more corrupt the party is as a party, the greater necessity is there to have some good men remain in it, to prevent it from doing greater injury to the country."

As historian, and as readers searching after truth, our next inquiry will naturally be – First. How much more time did it take to subdue the rebellion? Second. How many more men did it take? Third. How much additional did it cost? Fourth. How many additional lives were sacrificed? All these we regard as properly belonging to "Secrets of the Late Rebellion, now Revealed for the First Time," for the reason that no one heretofore has ever made researches in this particular direction, and while the facts have existed ever since they came into being (just as the continent of America existed long before Columbus discovered it), yet they have never until now been revealed to the public in the relations and connections to which they historically belong.

I. Though both North and South had been making preparations months before, the actual beginning of open war may be dated from the firing upon Fort Sumter, on the 12th of April, 1861. The close of the war may be reckoned from the surrender of General Lee to General Grant, at Appomattox Court-House, on April 9th, 1865, though it was months after before all the volunteer troops were disbanded and had reached their homes. From the firing on Fort Sumter to the surrender was three years, eleven months, and twenty-eight days; or, to make the calculation still finer, from the calling out of the seventy-five thousand troops to Lee's surrender was three years, eleven months, and twenty-five days. Now, deduct from this three months, and you have the extra time consumed in crushing the rebellion, every month, every week, and every day of which is justly chargeable to the Democratic party.

На страницу:
16 из 20