Battle Hymn of the Republic (Article 48)
It would be impossible to estimate how many people have been stirred by a resounding choral and/or symphony rendition of “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
Certainly millions!
The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, The Army Chorale, The Choir of the National Cathedral, and many other talented groups have produced modern versions with the accompaniment of grand pipe organs or symphony orchestras (or both). Even Elvis Presley had a unique rendition. The song is a treasure from the Civil War era and is a fixture at patriotic events.
But, during the Civil War, it was often sung acappela or with minimal accompaniment, sometimes with a piano, a trumpet, or perhaps a small military band. In those days, people often sang together in social gatherings and the song quickly became popular; however, at the time, perhaps the words were even more inspiring than the music.
At least to those in the North!
This was after all, a call to arms for those who supported the Union of the States and opposed the Confederacy and slavery. Therefore, it was only appreciated by, and patriotic to, that portion of Americans in the Northern states who favored the Union cause; including President Abraham Lincoln who heard it many times.
But the genesis for the heroic “Battle Hymn of the Republic” involved a rather ignoble ballad titled “John Brown’s Body” about a violent abolitionist. A Massachusetts militia unit had added words about John Brown to an old and familiar tune and the song quickly became a rousing, sometimes boisterous, rallying call for the men who were fighting the Confederates. While soldiers often sang together as a form of entertainment, they also used songs to reinforce their common bond of courage to their mission. This particular ballad lionized Brown, who had been executed for a raid on the Federal Arsenal at Harpers Ferry; a bold, but failed, plan to ignite a slave rebellion throughout the South. While the song quickly gained favor in both military and civilian circles, as soldiers often do, they soon added other words, many of which were not acceptable in more polite civilian society.
So, two distinctly different types of “John Brown’s Body” emerged. The first was one sung by soldiers (and frequently by tavern patrons) who often spontaneously changed verses to add more coarse language. The second version stayed closer to the original and could be heard in homes and community gatherings, especially among abolitionists. But, both types maintained the pro-Union and anti-slavery message.
However, as often happens in a broad culture, to the chagrin of many, the ever changing and less respectable versions, became more popular. In late 1861, during a dinner at the Willard hotel in Washington DC, a few friends who were committed to the abolition of slavery, lamented that versions of “John Brown’s Body” often heard in public no longer portrayed the somber message they appreciated. That night, they decided to re-form the verses and create their own anthem.
The result is the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” we know today.
At the dinner that evening was Julia Ward Howe. Mrs. Howe and her husband, Samuel Howe, were committed abolitionists who also opposed to the formation of the Confederacy; which they deemed unconstitutional. They were not early supporters of Abraham Lincoln, preferring William Seward, the former Governor of New York who shared their disdain for slavery and slave-holders; however, after the nomination of Lincoln in 1860, they actively promoted his election.
Mr. Howe was a well-known scholar who had developed techniques for the education of the blind; while Mrs. Howe had gained fame, and a substantial income, from her poetry which was regularly published in the major periodicals of the day. But Mr. and Mrs. Howe did more than just speak against slavery, they financially supported several related causes. And, Mr. Howe was one of the “Secret Six” who funneled funds to John Brown for his anti-slavery campaign which led, ultimately, to the ill-fated attack on the Harper’s Ferry Arsenal.
At that dinner in the Willard hotel, Mrs. Howe had expressed hope that President Lincoln would use the might of the Union armies, not only to repair the fractured Union, but to end slavery for all time. Mrs. Howe had long believed that the South would not give up their “peculiar institution” without the use of force; so, to her, the ongoing Civil War was not unexpected. Her friends asked if she would compose words to a similar tune as “John Brown’s Body” which would convey the folly of secession and the hope for a restored Union without slavery. They agreed that they wanted a “resolute march” which would “be a joy to sing and hear.” During her stay in Washington, she had heard several versions of “John Brown’s Body” and, after the dinner and her friends’ request, she retired to her hotel room. She later said she awoke with “words swirling in my head” and began to write and, by mid-day, the verses were finished. After she completed the poem, a trio of composers/arrangers were provided with a copy of her words and they modified the “John Brown” tune to fit the longer verses Mrs. Howe had written. The result was essentially a new musical work. “Battle Hymn of the Republic” was published in February 1862 in the popular magazine, Atlantic Monthly and quickly became the anthem of the Union.
The first verse and chorus are well known to many, but Mrs. Howe’s full message is found in the complete poem. Also, the accompanying music did (and does) resonate with the public; and most find it impossible to read the words without finding the music swirling in their heads.
Verse (1)
Mine eyes have seen the Glory of the coming of the Lord.
He is trampling out the vintages where the grapes of wrath are stored.
He hath loose’d the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on.
Each verse is followed by three rounds of the famous chorus: “Glory, Glory Halleluiah,” but in an unusual change from other songs of the time, Mrs. Howe repeated the last phrase of the prior verse as closing line for the following chorus; so, the first chorus ends with “His truth is marching on”.
She continued.
Verse (2)
I have seen Him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps.
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps.
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.
Verse (3)
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel.
As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal.
Let the Hero born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel.
Since God is marching on.
Verse (4)
He sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat.
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgement seat.
Oh, be swift my soul to answer Him, Be jubilant my feet.
Our God is marching on.
Verse (5)
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea.
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.
While God is marching on.
Verse (6)
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave.
He is Wisdom to the mighty, He is Succor to the brave.
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of time His slave.
Our God is marching on.
Verses one, two, four and five are found in most modern arrangements but verses three and six are often not included; perhaps a space and time consideration, but also perhaps the religious references were too pointed. Also, in verse 5, “let us die to make men free” was changed in most versions over time to “let us live to make men free.”
So, from that gathering of abolitionists in December, 1861, a grand and lasting musical masterpiece was created. The “Battle Hymn of the Republic” became so universally appreciated that Winston Churchill requested the song be played at his funeral. However, it is likely today that, while some of those performing and some of those listening appreciate the music and the flow of the verses, they do not realize that Mrs. Howe’s underlying message is of Divine leadership toward the abolition of slavery and opposition to what she considered the “slaveocracy” which controlled the South.
But, in the 1860s, Southern political leaders and clergy clearly understood, and vilified, the anthem’s message, primarily because of phrases in verse (3). For the previous two centuries, the southern clergy had crafted a theological argument that slavery was biblically supported and consistent with their view of Christianity; and as a result, major denominations had split into northern and southern factions. Therefore, many Southerners were offended by the line which reads, “As you deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal,” because it implied that God would reward those who fight against slavery (and for the Union); and conversely that those who are pro-slavery are His “contemners” who hold God in contempt or scorn. And, continuing with her theme, Mrs. Howe then called for the pro-slavery “serpent” to be crushed.
Even some northern worshipers must have thought those characterizations were a bit harsh.
But, Mrs. Howe believed the oppression of slavery must end and hoped her “resolute march would ring true” with the people of the North as they fought to conquer the Confederate states, end slavery, and re-unify the nation. She was pleased that her “Battle Hymn of the Republic” became the anthem for the North throughout the Civil War, but probably would have been surprised at the wider audience her song has reached over the last 150 years.
However, as we enjoy the beauty of the music, we do a disservice to Julia Ward Howe if we do not remember the fundamental message of her poem; oppression of one person by another is wrong, and we have a Sacred duty to fight against it.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Lincoln on Reconciliation (Article 47)
At a time when our country faces deep political divisions, a review of Abraham Lincoln’s messages of reconciliation may provide a starting point for our own healing.
While the political campaigns in our time are rough, in fact, the campaign rhetoric in the 19th century was even worse. Abraham Lincoln was a target of some of the most vile, and untrue, charges ever aimed at any candidate. To his credit, he rarely responded to such attacks, but when he did, his comments were concise, reasonable, and sometimes humorous. While there was no mass electronic media in the 1800s, newspapers were prevalent and almost always partisan, promoting one candidate and one ideology over others and eviscerating opponents and different political philosophies. Many newspapers and political groups also distributed handbills, usually one page diatribes against a politician or some government policy. Most publishers considered politicians free game in editorials, in articles, and especially in political cartoons.
Truth was not a journalistic objective.
In March 1861, Lincoln began his Presidency with his country literally torn apart. Over the preceding decade, a war of words had become a war of secession, death and destruction. In the 1860 Presidential election, nine states refused to even place Lincoln’s name on the ballot, and this was before the first secession by a state had occurred. The South’s largest newspaper, in Richmond, Virginia, editorialized; “ ..whether the Potomac is crimson in human gore and Pennsylvania Avenue is paved ten fathoms deep with mangled bodies, the South will never submit to such humiliation and degradation as the Inauguration of Abraham Lincoln.”
Throughout his political career, Lincoln tried to remain above personal enmity and he consistently demonstrated graciousness in defeat and magnanimity in victory. Further, Lincoln sought to reconcile different factions; whether the debates were centered on Illinois governmental issues, or the more national disagreements over secession and slavery. For years before the Civil War, he held some hope the Northern and Southern differences could be settled without conflict. Even after the Civil War began, and until the day of his death four years later, Abraham Lincoln continued to wish and pray for, and work towards, re-union; and wrote and spoke of forgiveness.
His willingness to try to reconcile political differences, however, began much earlier. For example, in 1838, when he was twenty-nine and an Illinois legislator, he implored several angry colleagues to settle their differences through compromise and said, “There is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law.”
In 1854, Lincoln decided to campaign to become a U.S. Senator, although he knew it would be an uphill battle. At that time, the Constitution required that Senators be selected by state legislatures, not by citizen votes; and his political party did not hold a majority in the Illinois legislature. But Lincoln was a popular figure across party lines, so he had some reason to believe that enough Democrats might vote for him; but his opponent was selected by a slim margin. On the evening of the vote, Lincoln went to the Springfield home of the victor, Lyman Trumbull, warmly congratulated him, and stayed around to tell a few of his humorous stories. The next day, Lincoln simply went back to work at his law office and his partner, William Herndon, later remarked, “A person could not have known from Mr. Lincoln’s words or demeanor whether he had won or lost.” He then lost a similar Illinois legislative vote four years later to Steven A. Douglas by an even closer margin. But the losses did not keep Lincoln from pressing his ideas for political change; he just maintained a civil dialogue while doing so, and began to build a constituency. It paid off in 1860!
After he won the election for President in November 1860, but before his inauguration in March 1861, Lincoln planned a trip to New England to meet that region’s political leaders. In particular, he wanted to get to know Hannibal Hamlin, who would be his Vice-President-Elect, and who he had not yet met. To the surprise of many, he asked Senator Lyman Trumbull, who had defeated him in the 1854 race, to accompany him on the tour; because Lincoln respected his knowledge of the Washington DC political scene and trusted his advice. A true example of reconciliation!
Then, as Lincoln began the process of selecting men to serve in his Cabinet, he put aside the rhetoric of the campaign and offered positions to all three of his Republican opponents for the nomination; each of whom initially had a higher expectation of victory than did Lincoln. He also included Democrats in several of these critical offices and, in another clear display of personal forgiveness and reconciliation, he said, “I am determined to seek the best men for the country, not the best men for Lincoln.”
On March 4, 1861, Lincoln gave his First Inaugural Address, two weeks after Jefferson Davis was sworn-in as President of the Confederate States of America. In this conflicted setting, Lincoln spoke directly to the people of the South when he said; “ I am loathe to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Those passions may have strained, but must not break, our bonds of affection.” However, his pleas went unanswered and, five weeks later, the Confederates fired on Fort Sumter beginning a four-year Civil War.
With members of his wife’s family serving on both sides of the War between the States, Lincoln did not hold personal animosity toward those who chose the different path. During the Civil War, on several occasions, Lincoln visited the Washington hospitals which cared for Confederate prisoners. In one famous exchange, he said; “You, as I, are in this place through uncontrollable circumstances. Would you accept my hand in sympathy and respect.” Several, but not all, shook the President’s hand. In another instance while visiting severely wounded Confederate officers, Lincoln said; “If I were to tell you who I am, would any of you shake my hand? I am Abraham Lincoln.” A nearby Confederate officer replied; “Would you shake my hand if you knew I was a Confederate Colonel who has fought against you for four years?” To which Lincoln replied; “Well, I hope a Confederate Colonel will not refuse me his hand.” The two men shook hands and several others also came forward to greet Mr. Lincoln.
By the time of the Second Inaugural in March 1865, it was clear to most reasonable observers that the war would end soon and the Confederacy would be vanquished. Lincoln directed most of his remarks at that Inauguration to reconciliation and re-union. He urged the citizens of the North to ..”be sympathetic to our friends in the South….let us judge not, that we not be judged.” And he concluded, “With malice toward none, with charity for all,..let us bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for those who have borne the battle, and for his widow and orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves.”
To Lincoln, these were not just words, but a plan of action. To assure that his wishes for generous peace terms for Confederate soldiers and officers were carried out by his military commanders, Lincoln met in March with General Grant, General Sherman, and Admiral Porter. He directed, “Let them once surrender and reach their homes…Let them go, officers and all, I want no more bloodshed. I want no one punished; treat them liberally all around.” Lincoln’s message was clear and military historians over the years have marveled at the magnanimous terms of surrender which the Union military leaders provided to their former adversaries. Essentially, they just “let the boys go home.”
In the late evening of April 11th,1865, in a short speech from a White House window, Lincoln addressed the surrender of Robert E. Lee’s Confederate army. He said, “Let us welcome the Southern states, back into the fold, without divisive argument over their behaviors, indeed without deciding, or considering, whether their status have ever been out of the Union.” And, he urged the crowd to “embrace our former rivals.”
Then, at his last Cabinet meeting on the day of his assassination, Lincoln said: “Indeed I hope there will be no persecutions, no bloody work after this war is over.” Speaking of the Confederate leaders he said; “None should expect that I will participate in hanging or killing of these men, even the worst of them. Enough lives have been sacrificed. We must extinguish our resentments if we expect harmony and Union.” An attendee at the meeting later said that Lincoln spoke kindly of Confederate General Robert E. Lee and suggested he might be helpful in the re-construction of the southern states because, “He is so universally admired.”
It is most remarkable that, at his final cabinet meeting, he was referring to people who had sought to destroy the Union, and fought a war against his government for four years at a cost of over a million lives. Still, with forgiveness and reconciliation foremost in his mind, he said, “We must extinguish our resentments!”
My hope is that, going into 2017, after this turbulent election, we can heed Lincoln’s appeal when he said, “Though passion may have strained, it must not break, our bonds of affection.”
So, let us begin our own reconciliations. But first, as Abraham Lincoln so eloquently stated over one hundred and fifty years ago, “we must extinguish our resentments.”
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Messages (Article 46)
“ I..invite my fellow-citizens to..observe the last Thursday in November as a Day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father. And…I implore the Almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation and restore it.. to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and Union.” Excerpt from the 1863 Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.
During the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln issued several proclamations establishing special days for Prayer and/or Thanksgiving. Each asked the public to set aside time to reflect upon the challenges the country faced and to follow their own religious creed to express hope for peace and gratitude for the blessings bestowed on the Nation. The proclamations summarized below were actually collaborative efforts between Lincoln and William Seward, his Secretary of State. The two men had been rivals for the Presidency but, by late 1861, had learned to respect and trust each other’s political instincts and writing skills. Seward was a devout Episcopalian and his intonements tended to be more ecclesiastical and flourishing. Lincoln, on the other hand, while no less spiritual, tended to use simpler implorations; and the reader can usually discern which phrase was more likely Seward’s or Lincoln’s. Unfortunately, over time, some writers, especially in internet posts, have confused the various proclamations and presented erroneous text as “Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.”
It is important that we maintain a correct historical record of these proclamations or, over time, the false texts become the “new” history. Lincoln and Seward prepared four related proclamations. For ease of identification, most scholars refer to these as the 1861 Proclamation for Prayer, The April 1863 Proclamation for Prayer, The 1863 Thanksgiving Day Proclamation, and The 1864 Thanksgiving Day Proclamation. The following are summaries, as each original document is lengthy; however, the full titles are included for reference. For those who would like to read the complete (and authentic) texts, the best sources are the web-sites of several Lincoln Historical Societies, the Lincoln Presidential Library, and the Library of Congress.
In August 1861, when the awful realities of the Civil War were becoming evident, Lincoln and Seward felt that the people might be comforted by a special day on which the nation as a whole would turn to their religious faith, in whatever forms that may take, to ask for guidance in restoring the forefathers’ vision for the United States. That Presidential proclamation was officially titled The Proclamation Appointing a National Fast Day and read (in part)
“..And, whereas our own beloved country, once by the blessing of God, united, prosperous, and happy, is now afflicted with faction and Civil War, it is particularly fit for us to recognize the hand of God in this terrible visitation, and in sorrowful remembrance of our faults and crimes as a nation, and as individuals, to humble ourselves and pray for His mercy….and that the inestimable boon of civil and religious liberty…earned by His blessing and the labors and sufferings of our forefathers, may be restored in all its original excellence.” The Proclamation went on to declare the last Thursday in September as a day of humiliation, prayer, and fasting and urged “all ministers and teachers of religion of all denominations and the heads of all families to observe and keep that day according to their creeds and modes of worship.”
Not quite an official “Thanksgiving Day” but a good start!
On January 1, 1863, the Emancipation Proclamation became effective changing forever the context of the Civil War. By then, Lincoln and Seward believed that the North would eventually prevail and the Union would be restored; but neither had reason to hope the War would end soon. In April, 1863, they decided to issue another proclamation of prayer; however, this one was officially titled “Proclamation for a Day of National Humiliation, Fasting, and Prayer.” Hardly a catchy title, which most historians suspect was Seward’s choice, as was much of the text. But, it was signed by Lincoln and, in summary, read as follows:
“..It is the duty of nations as well as men, to owe their dependence upon the ruling power of God, to confess their sins and transgressions, in humble sorrow…By his divine law nations, like individuals, are subjected to punishments and chastisements in this world…. We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven. We have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity….But we have forgotten God.…We have vainly imagined….that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own (and) we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving Grace. It behooves us to humble ourselves before the offended Power. I do, by this proclamation, set April 30, 1863 as a day of national humiliation, fasting, and prayer. And I do request that all the people abstain that day from their ordinary secular pursuits and to unite at their several places of public worship and in their respective homes, in keeping that day Holy to the Lord, and devoted to the humble discharge of the religious duties proper to that solemn occasion. Let us rest humbly in the hope authorized by the Divine teachings that the united cry of the nation will be heard on High, and (provide) the restoration of our now divided and suffering country…”
By the fall of 1863, the Civil War was still being fought, but the Union was beginning to see significant victories (especially at Gettysburg and Vicksburg) and Lincoln and Seward discussed declaring a “National Day of Thanksgiving.” It was not their original idea, nor one that they quickly accepted. It took a forceful campaign by Sarah Josepha Hale to convince the two men that the time was right. Mrs. Hale had almost singlehandedly convinced the Governors of most Northern States and Mayors of several of the larger cities to declare a “Thanksgiving Day” in their jurisdictions. Her ultimate goal was to create one day, throughout the entire country, which would be set aside for prayerful Thanksgiving for the blessings bestowed by the Creator. She implored President Lincoln to take action; and over a few days in September, 1863, he and Secretary Seward wrote the first “Thanksgiving Day Proclamation. It reads (in part):
“In the year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies…bounties which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come. In the midst of Civil War of unequaled magnitude and severity, peace has been preserved with all (other) nations, laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has been preserved except in the theater of military conflict; while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union.” Lincoln went on to describe the wealth that was building in the north from farming, mining, and transportation, and advances in bringing in new states from western territories; while still keeping up an aggressive war effort against the Confederacy. (That last portion was decried by Southern politicians and newspaper editors). But then Lincoln and Seward returned to the basic theme of gratitude and Thanksgiving. “No human counsel hath devised, nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the most gracious gifts of the most High God, who while dealing with us in anger for our sins hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It seems fit and proper that they should solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledge as with one heart and one voice by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow-citizens to…observe the last Thursday in November as a Day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father. And I recommend to them that they do so with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and implore the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and restore it as soon as may be consistent with Divine purposes, to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and Union.”
While the 1863 Proclamation was widely reported in Southern newspapers, rather than inspire people as it had in the North, it offended many in the south by its references to “all Americans,” successful military campaigns against the Confederacy, and restoration of the Union. The people of the South were being devastated by the many battles pushed by the Union, almost all fought on their lands, and in their communities. The fact was that after mid-1863, almost all military engagements favored Union forces and the economic engine in the north continued to expand; in stark contrast to the travails and suffering within the Confederacy.
A year later, on October 20, 1864, President Lincoln issued his second Thanksgiving Day proclamation, again declaring the last Thursday of November for the special Day. (Since November occasionally has five Thursdays, Congress later changed the date from the “last” Thursday” to the “fourth” Thursday because business and labor leaders wanted a longer separation between the two holidays). Again, Lincoln and Secretary Seward collaborated to issue a memorable document, which read (in part):
“It has pleased Almighty God to prolong our national life another year, defending us with His guardian care against unfriendly designs from abroad and vouchsafing to us in his mercy many and signal victories over the enemy who is of our own household…He has augmented our free population by emancipation and by immigration, while he has opened new sources of wealth and has crowned the labor of our workingmen in every department of industry with abundant rewards. He has been pleased to inspire our minds and hearts with fortitude, courage, and resolution sufficient for the great trial of Civil War into which we have been brought by our adherence as a nation to the cause of freedom and humanity…Therefore I set apart the last Thursday in November as a day …of Thanksgiving and praise (to) offer up penitence and prayers for a return of the inestimable blessings of peace, union, and harmony throughout the land.…
Because of an assassin’s bullet a few months later, this became President Lincoln’s last Thanksgiving Day Proclamation.
But we are fortunate that he and Seward left us these petitions, especially the calls for unity and peace, which certainly seem appropriate today, and, hopefully, we will try to honor their message as we celebrate this special holiday.
Have a wonderful, and reflective, Thanksgiving Day.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Lincoln Condolence Letters (Article 45)
Abraham Lincoln was an accomplished writer; whether he was writing a letter to an editor about political issues, a brief to a court in a legal case, a speech that he knew would be re-printed for many more to read, or simply a letter to a friend. But he may have been at his most eloquent when writing to someone who had experienced a loss.
His condolence letters are remarkable.
Certainly, the most famous is referred to as the “Mrs. Bixby” letter. (See Article 7, Sep 1, 2014). It deserves the reverence with which it is usually presented and is quoted in most Lincoln biographies. Lincoln wrote it to a widow who had lost two sons in the Civil War. He wrote (in part)
Dear Madam,
….I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost..,
While the Bixby letter may be the most often quoted condolence letter, there were many other similar letters from Lincoln’s pen. These were private expressions, not done for publicity, but only in the hope that he might provide some comfort to a grieving mother, sister, wife, brother or father, or in one case, a whole community. These letters offer a message of deep gratitude and are examples of Lincoln’s compassionate nature and artful prose.
One such letter was sent to Mary Frances “Fanny” McCullough, whose father had been killed in the Civil War.
Lincoln had met William McCullough during the Black Hawk War and both had become active in Illinois politics and had joined the new Republican party at about the same time. When the Civil War broke out, McCullough volunteered as a cavalry officer but was at first rejected because of his age (51), his poor eyesight, and of most concern to military recruiters, he only had one arm. It must have been difficult for them to imagine him managing a horse and a weapon if he were engaged in a cavalry charge or other combat. We do not know the circumstances of McCullough’s appeal to his friend, President Abraham Lincoln, but he was finally accepted into the cavalry as a Lieutenant. Some of the men who served with McCullough, later told of him riding his horse, bridle in his teeth, and brandishing his pistol or sword in his one hand; and one said, “He was not an opponent to be taken lightly.” McCullough was promoted several times and served with distinction for nearly two years in battles in Tennessee. His unit was then assigned to General Grant’s army which began to move into Mississippi and Colonel McCullough lost his life during the early stages of the Union campaign to take the strategic Confederate outpost at Vicksburg, Mississippi.
He left behind a wife and four children, among them was Fanny who was 21 years old at the time of her father’s death. Abraham Lincoln knew the family well and, when Fanny was a child, he had often held her on his lap and told her stories that would make her laugh. Perhaps he enjoyed Fanny’s quiet company because he only had rambunctious boys at home. While it is certain that Colonel McCullough’s entire family deeply mourned his loss, it seems that Fanny was so overcome with grief that no one was able to comfort her and her depression not only lingered, but became worse to the point those around her were concerned about her well-being.
Someone who knew Fanny, contacted President Lincoln about her condition.
Abraham Lincoln was no stranger to profound grief. As a child of nine he had lost his mother, then as a young man, his early friends watched him mourn the death of a close friend, Anne Rutledge, and later the death of two young sons. Then, of course, came the horrendous losses of the Civil War. Harold Holzer, a Pulitzer Prize-winning Lincoln biographer referred to his “Common Bond of Grief” with others who were suffering through a loss.
So, Lincoln penned this letter to a grieving young woman.
“Dear Miss Fanny,
It is with deep regret that I learn of the death of your kind and brave father, and especially that it is affecting your young heart beyond what is common. In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and to the young, it comes with bitterest agony, because it takes them unawares. The older have learned to ever expect it. I am anxious to afford some alleviation of your present distress. Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You cannot now realize that you will ever feel better. Is this not so? And yet it is a mistake. The memory of your dear father, instead of agony, will yet be a sad, sweet feeling in your heart, of a purer and holier sort than you have known before. You are sure to be happy again. Perhaps to know this, which is certainly true, will make you some less miserable now.
Very sincerely,
A. Lincoln”
Fanny did recover, with support from friends and family, but it is likely that the letter she received from Abraham Lincoln, which she kept for the rest of her life, also helped.
Not all of his condolence letters were to a family of the fallen. In 1863 Lincoln received a letter from the townspeople of Manchester, England whose livelihood had been crushed by the American Civil War. The mills of their community had processed cotton imported from Southern states for nearly 40 years and was the primary employment for most families. The hardships began almost immediately due to the Union blockade of southern ports (and an ill-advised embargo on cotton shipments by the Confederate government). Mills closed, people lost their homes, malnutrition became rampant; and it became known as “the great cotton famine.” But these poor Englishmen had seen their earlier generations victimized by England’s bondman laws, which permitted enslavement of debtors, until the practice was abolished in the 1830s. So, they knew first-hand the evil that was slavery and they relished their freedom. The town’s letter to Lincoln read (in part), “The abandonment of the cotton mills in Manchester has tested us, one and all, but we know its reasons and causes. We are heartened by the vast progress which you have made in twenty months, fills us with hope that the foul blot on civilization and Christianity - chattel slavery - will cause the name of Abraham Lincoln to be revered by posterity.”
Lincoln replied (in part), “I know and deeply deplore the sufferings of the working people of Manchester are called to endure in this crisis. I cannot but regard your decisive utterances as an instance of sublime Christian heroism which has not been surpassed in any age. Whatever else may happen, the peace and friendship which now exists between the two nations will be, as it shall be my desire to make them, perpetual.”
But, personal condolence letters to grieving families of fallen soldiers were all too prevalent for the President. In April, 1861, soon after the start of the Civil War, Lincoln recommended Elmer Ellsworth, who had just turned twenty-one, for an officer position in the Union Army. Lincoln had met Elmer two years earlier through his father, Ephraim Ellsworth who was a long-time friend; and the young man had obviously made a lasting, and very positive, impression. As it turned out, the military commanders in Washington DC also quickly recognized Elmer’s intelligence, sense of duty, and leadership ability and placed him in charge of one of the detachments which guarded the White House. Because of his daily proximity to the Lincoln family, and his gregarious nature, Elmer and the two younger Lincoln boys became regular companions when Elmer was off-duty; and he even won over Mary Todd Lincoln, which was never easy. During that time, while the young officer was always respectful of his duties and the President’s position, the two men also became close friends. On May 23rd, Union forces overran the city of Alexandria, Virginia, directly across the Potomac River, to secure that area as a protective buffer for Washington. While leading his men into the Hotel Alexandria, Colonel Elmer Ellsworth was shot and killed by a local civilian. Lincoln was devastated at the sudden loss of his young friend, and held a memorial service for Colonel Ellsworth in the White House. On May 25th, Abraham Lincoln penned this letter (in part) to the soldier’s parents.
“To the Father and Mother of Col. Elmer E. Ellsworth,
My dear Sir and Madam,
In the untimely loss of your noble son, our affliction here, is scarcely less than your own. So much of promised usefulness to one’s country, and of bright hopes for one’s self and friends, have rarely been so suddenly dashed, as in his fall. In size, in years, and in youthful appearance, a boy only, (but) his power to command men was surprisingly great. This power, combined with a fine intellect, an indomitable energy, and a taste altogether military, constituted in him, as it seemed to me, the best natural talent, in that department, I ever knew. And yet he was singularly modest and deferential. My acquaintance with him began less than two years ago; yet through the latter half of the intervening period, it was as intimate as the disparity of our ages would permit. To me, he appeared to have no indulgences, I never heard him utter an intemperate word. What was conclusive of his good heart, he never forgot his parents. The honors he labored for so laudably, and in the end, so gallantly gave his life, he meant for them, no less than for himself.
In the hope that it may be no intrusion upon the sacredness of your sorrow, I have ventured to address you this tribute to the memory of my young friend, and your brave and early fallen child.
May God give you the consolation which is beyond all earthly power.
Sincerely, your friend in a common affliction.
A. Lincoln”
In War, soldiers die. It is a burden every President has borne. Some are better than others at expressing the nation’s gratitude for a soldier’s sacrifice, and for the loss felt by family and friends. President Abraham Lincoln wrote many condolence letters during the Civil War, these are only a few. He could also speak with unusual grace to a gathering of those commemorating a great loss as in his Gettysburg Address or reflecting on recovery and forgiveness such as his Second Inaugural Address; both of which are enduring masterpieces.
But his deeply felt personal compassion seems most clear in the special prose of his condolence letters.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
A Good Swap - An Arkansas Farmer and the U.S. army (Article 44)
In the Spring of 1864, on a small farm in central Arkansas, Elam Waddell was preparing for planting season. The Civil War was raging across most Southern states but Arkansas, which had joined the Confederate States of America three years earlier, had remained relatively quiet.
However, Elam Waddell and his family would soon learn that they were not immune from the conflict.
The sixty year-old farmer and Cumberland Presbyterian minister had moved his family to Arkansas five years earlier from Mississippi, after selling his land there. We do not know for certain the reasons Mr. Waddell chose to move; however, at the time, many small farms in Mississippi were being acquired and consolidated into larger plantations, to then be worked by slave labor. As a result, productive land was becoming more valuable in Mississippi; so, the move may have been related to an opportunity to obtain a good price for his land. But circumstances suggest that Elam may have also wanted to leave an area becoming more dependent on slave labor.
While there is no record in Elam’s own words of his position on slavery, there is a letter, written by a relative, which reveals that a man who owned two slaves had objected to his daughter marrying into the Waddell family because Elam did not own slaves. Further, the fact that Elam’s son, A.J. (Alex) was given furlough by the Confederate army to help with planting season reinforces the supposition that the Waddell family farmed their land without reliance on the labor of slaves. It seems likely, therefore, that at least on his new farm in Arkansas, Elam and his family worked their fields by themselves; and utilized two old matched mules which were used to pull wagons, plows, and other implements.
That would have been common in Arkansas, where only about one family in thirty owned any slaves; however, there were several large slave-holders in the state and slaves accounted for nearly 25% of the total population of 450,000. Although that proportion of slaves may seem high, it was the lowest of any of the states which seceded in 1861, as Black slaves actually outnumbered the White population in some southern states, including Mississippi.
But, slave-holder or not, Elam Waddell was a Southerner who supported the Confederacy.
He certainly was aware that Union and Confederate forces had been fighting for over two years for control of the Mississippi River from Tennessee to the Gulf of Mexico. While there was all-out war along the Mississippi in a few key locations, such as Vicksburg and New Orleans, his farm was about 100 miles west of the great River and was not in a strategic military area. He would have also known about a large Union garrison which was headquartered near the town of Little Rock, about 50 miles to the north.
However, Elam could not have known that Union Generals were planning to pull nearly 30,000 soldiers from units in Arkansas and Louisiana and consolidate them to attack the city of Shreveport, Louisiana, near the Texas border. One of these Union forces, of about 10,000 men led by General Frederick Steele, was sent from the Little Rock garrison, with over 500 wagons, hitched to several thousand army mules; a major over-land logistical trek.
Because it would have been impossible to hide the movement of such a large army, Elam may have heard that the Union troops from Little Rock were on the move, but their initial path toward Shreveport took them about 40 miles west of the Waddell farm; so Elam may have thought his family’s home would still not directly be in harm’s way.
The Union Generals, understanding that Confederate scouts and/or spies would learn of their destination, believed that the Confederates would amass forces near Shreveport to defend the city. However, they did not expect that Southern units would engage any of the several large Union forces along the way, except possibly for minor harassment actions. It was a grievous error in judgement by the Union Commanders.
Instead, Confederate General Edmund Smith assembled a force of over 20,000 Confederates from Texas, Alabama, and southern Louisiana and attacked General Steele’s army before they could join the other Union forces at Shreveport. With the original plan in disarray, the Union commander ordered a retreat back to the relative safety of Little Rock; but the Confederate army stayed in hot pursuit. At several points along the way, fierce battles erupted, often in the rain and deep mud.
The Union army continued to pull back after each engagement, and, on April 29th, gathered around a defensive position near Jenkins’ Ferry on the Saline River.
Only a few miles from Elam Waddell’s farm!
The weather was terrible, it had rained hard for two days, and combatants and equipment on both sides were mired in mud. Weather, however, does not delay death in war and the two sides began to take a horrific toll on each other, often in hand to hand combat, while slipping and sliding in the ever deepening slosh.
The battle of Jenkins’ Ferry would be brutal. One soldier recalled that, “War is miserable enough, but with mud it is Devil’s ground. Your feet are stuck. Your eyes are blinded by rain and the smoke from many weapons. You slash without seeing who you are striking. You are struck by a man you do not see. Who survives is just chance.”
Elam and his family were still a few miles from the fighting and they occasionally heard cannon fire; however, they had not encountered any troops from either side.
Early one morning, the family realized that the noise from cannons was closer than before and Alex, Elam’s son who was home on leave from his Confederate unit, later recalled that it sounded like thunder. “The noise was constant and it went on all day. We had no way of knowing how it was going with our boys, so we were terribly frightened. We got no work done that day. We prayed a lot.”
As the day wore on, they saw a long line of mule drawn wagons coming up the muddy road, and they probably could see Union flags. The wagons, it turned out, were carrying many wounded Union soldiers back to Little Rock where they could receive better care.
The Waddells noticed one wagon, in particular, being pulled by two mules which were obviously worn out, weak from hunger, and near death. Alex continued the story: “The driver whipped them and yelled at them but they finally just lay down in their harness. They could not get up.”
The family had moved into the woods from their house to keep out of sight, probably to make sure Alex, who could have been identified as a Confederate soldier, was not arrested, or shot, by the Yankees. They watched as two soldiers came up to the corral where Elam’s two old mules were kept, took the animals back to the wagon and harnessed them; leaving the two army mules to die in the mud. The column of wagons with so many injured soldiers then moved on.
But, somehow, the two deserted army mules managed to cling to life.
Alex then said, “After dark, Pa carried some water and feed to the mules. After some time, we managed to get them up and took them deep into the woods and kept them hidden. Pa said, ‘Boys if we can get them through the next day or two, we’ll have us a good matched pair of young mules. Those old mules of mine won’t last long.’ We would go and feed them each day and they were as fine a matched pair as you could find.”
After the battle at Jenkins’ Ferry, the two opposing forces separated and left the area around Elam’s farm; however, for Confederate and Union soldiers, there would be another full year of battles, death, and destruction elsewhere before the Civil War would end.
As the years went by, Alex recalled that his father often bragged about the “Good Swap” and said; “I think we may have won out over those Yankees. They stole our mules, but we got the best of the bargain.”
Of course, the wounded Union soldiers whose wagon was no longer moving due to the two exhausted Army mules, must have thought the two old stolen mules which (presumably) were able to help get them to safety and needed medical care, were a “Good Swap” as well.
Seems to have been a win-win and a “Good Swap” all around.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Q & A July 2016
I frequently receive questions (and a few statements) from readers of my books and the blogs. Some are in the form of statements expressing either support or disagreement with some point I had made, others are questions as follow-up or clarifications to my position, and others raise new issues. Here are ten of my favorites.
1. Did Lincoln and Robert E. Lee ever meet? Most historians do not believe so. Some writers claim that they met in 1848 during Lincoln’s only Congressional term but neither man ever left any written acknowledgement. Lincoln certainly knew of Lee’s distinguished military career and would have approved General Winfield Scott’s offer, made in December 1860, to Lee to become the Commanding General of the U.S. Army; an offer we know Lee declined.
2. Did Robert E. Lee own slaves? Yes, he did, but not through direct participation in the slave trade. His aunt, Mildred Lee owned an elderly slave named Nat who accompanied Robert, in 1829, to Savannah for his first military assignment after receiving his commission from West Point. Some authors claim Robert owned Nat, but he did not. When Robert’s mother Mary Lee died, she did leave several slaves to each of her sons. While the four female slaves Robert inherited never served in his household, he did permit his brother to manage and “let” those slaves for which Robert received a portion of the proceeds. I have found no record of any slave being purchased by Robert or on his behalf, and in 1846, he transferred (not sold) the last of the slaves he had inherited to his father-in-law, perhaps as compensation for permitting Robert’s family to reside in Custis homes. After that, I do not believe that he personally owned another slave. However, his wife’s family (Custis) did own slaves and Lee would have benefited from the service of slaves at various Custis homes and plantations; including Arlington. Some writers declare that he freed the last of his slaves in 1862 but they misunderstand Lee’s role in that case. Lee was acting as the executor of his father-in-law’s estate which contained the provision that all slaves owned by Mr. Custis upon his death were to be freed in an orderly fashion at such time the estate was in solid financial condition, but in any case freed within five years of his death. Lee followed the instructions and officially released the last of the Custis slaves on December 29, 1862. Lee’s complex and conflicted thoughts about slavery were evident when he wrote, in 1848, that “Slavery as an institution is a moral and political evil in any country” but he accepted its current reality and added, “How long their subjugation may be necessary is only known and ordered by a wise and Merciful Providence.” Note: Lee’s involvement with slavery had several fascinating twists and turns which I will explore in a future blog.
3. Is the claim true, often seen on the internet as an encouragement to not give up, that Lincoln had lost three elections and had quit politics after serving one term in Congress? Yes and no! Lincoln did lose in his very first election in 1832, when, at 23 years old, he ran for the Illinois legislature; however, he carried 277 of the 284 votes cast in his home town of New Salem, a point of pride for the rest of his life. After that he won four consecutive elections to the Illinois House and that first defeat was the only election he ever lost where citizens directly voted for candidates such as state legislative races or for a seat for the U.S. House of Representatives. He was elected in his only run for the U.S. Congress, but was disappointed that he was not more effective, and decided to not for a second term. He did not “quit politics” as some suggest, but remained active in Illinois affairs by supporting other candidates and causes in which he believed. He did lose two campaigns to become a U.S. Senator in 1854 and 1858 (and a half- hearted attempt in 1852); however, at that time, the position was appointed by the Illinois Legislature, not by citizen votes. The Democrat Party on each occasion held a majority in the legislature so Lincoln, a Republican, was the underdog. While Lincoln did receive some Democrat votes, they were not enough for him to gain the appointment.
4. Why did Lincoln tolerate General George McClellan’s procrastination for so long? (McClellan was Commander of all Union forces during the war’s first 18 months). I think at first Lincoln was impressed by McClellan’s organizational ability and understood that it was a major accomplishment to quickly build and train a new large army. (from 14,000 to nearly 200,000 in six months). However, after a year of not using the advantages the Union army had against the smaller Confederate forces, Lincoln began to lose confidence in McClellan. But still he delayed removing McClellan in part because Lincoln was not confident in any other General; a concern proven when the next four Generals he appointed also failed to overcome the Confederate forces. In that first year, he also had to replace his Secretary of War, Simon Cameron, who was ineffective and corrupt. Lincoln later regretted leaving McClellan in place for so long because he believed a series of earlier large scale attacks would have weakened the Confederate Government and brought a quicker end to the War.
5. Was Lincoln’s primary goal to preserve the Union or to abolish slavery? Absolutely, his initial goal was to preserve the Union. He told others that he knew that a Union victory and collapse of the Confederate “rebellion”, could lead to the abolition of slavery; but first the Union needed to be restored.
6. An internet article claimed Lincoln wanted to “deport” all Negros after emancipation; is that true? As with many attempts to discredit Lincoln, there is a small element of truth to that claim, but it is mostly false. Lincoln was concerned that the emancipated slaves (and even those who already were freemen) would not be accepted into the larger White society. Most Whites, North and South, even those who opposed slavery, did not accept the concept of racial equality and Lincoln feared there would be widespread racial violence. On several occasions he proposed voluntary “relocation” (but never deportation) to Africa or the Caribbean where a Black society, free from intimidation, might be created. Again, Lincoln was a product of his times, and he was exploring alternatives. Just prior to the first publication of the Emancipation Proclamation in September 1862, he met with a group of Free Black leaders who convinced him that the relocation concept was unworkable because “America is our only home too!” Thereafter, Lincoln carefully phrased statements on relocation to assure people understood it could only be voluntary and must offer an opportunity for success; but, in fact, he had abandoned the concept.
7. Did Lincoln really write the Emancipation Proclamation? He wrote almost all of it. There were changes suggested by Secretary of State Seward, who also suggested a delay in publication until a significant Union victory. But, the theme was all Lincoln’s. He wrote the parts that exempted slave holders in certain states and counties which left him open to criticism for not abolishing all slavery. He felt that if he had taken that broad approach in 1862, Missouri, Kentucky, Maryland and Delaware (all states which remained in the Union but where slavery was legal) might have seceded, or at least stopped supporting Federal forces.
8. Why did Lincoln have so many law partners? Was he a difficult partner? On the contrary, he remained close to his first two partners, John Stuart and Stephen Logan, each of whom had decided to devote more time to their political careers, including running for office. He and his last partner, William Herndon, expected to resume their joint practice after Lincoln left the Presidency; and the firm’s name always remained “Lincoln and Herndon.”
9. Why wasn’t Confederate President Jefferson Davis tried for treason? During his two years in captivity, there were numerous fits and starts among Federal officials to hold a trial. However some Northern leaders, including new Supreme Court Chief Justice Salmon Chase, had declared that secession was illegal but it was not treason. Lincoln and Chase, before the assassination and the capture of Davis, said that Davis might be tried for “interference with Federal operations” but cited no specific law. Most of the clamoring for trials of Confederate officials, including Davis, came from the “Radical Republicans” in Congress and newspaper publishers who supported that cause. Lincoln made it clear before his death that he wanted no part of “revenge trials” and said he hoped “old Jeff Davis” and others would just slip away. Lincoln’s successor as President, Andrew Johnson, agreed with Lincoln’s position.
10. Did Lincoln have Marfan’s disease? I do not know. He certainly had elongated limbs which are symptomatic of the disease; however an accompanying common ailment of this connective tissue disorder is weak muscular and tendon development. Lincoln had neither, and in fact, his leg, arm, and upper body strength was legendary.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
The Profiteers (Article 43)
Speaking about corruption during the Revolutionary War, General George Washington noted: “There is such a thirst for gain among them (military suppliers) that it is enough to make one curse our own species, for possessing so little virtue and patriotism.”
While the government was certainly gouged by some merchants during our War for Independence, which Washington was addressing in those comments in 1778, he would have been even more appalled at the excesses during the Civil War.
Some of these “merchants of opportunity” were names still known today; Rockefeller, Armour, Colt, Morgan, and Brooks (of Brooks Brothers Clothiers). These men, among many others, spent their time during the Civil War, not in devoted service to either the Union or the Confederacy, but to building their personal fortunes. At the start of the Civil War in early 1861, there were less than thirty millionaires in New York City, but by 1864 there were nearly five hundred. The same exponential growth in wealthy Americans was found in Washington DC, Boston, and Philadelphia (not to ignore Richmond, Charleston, and New Orleans) and almost any community which manufactured, raised, assembled, or mined any commodity needed by the armies. Some businessmen, both in the North and the South, made their money honestly, providing quality goods and services at a fair price; but simply sold so much more that they became wealthy.
Others, however, had a decidedly selfish agenda.
Since the beginning of time, all-out war brings tragedy, suffering, and loss to almost all involved. There are those, however, who sense an opportunity for personal gain, and seize it. War is a huge enterprise, and the wider the conflict, and the longer it continues, the more the business of war grows. The Civil War resulted in massive production of weapons, manufacture of clothing and other military supplies, contracts to transport men and equipment, and even arrangements for financing the war expenditures. These enterprises were often managed by patriotic and honorable individuals; for example, Cornelius Vanderbilt loaned ships to the Union Navy to assist with the blockade of southern ports and supplied rail cars at no charge to move Union troops. On the other hand, the opportunity for quick and massive profits brought other people to the process who focused only on building wealth during the national crisis.
These were the Profiteers, and they generally fell into one of three categories.
The first group were the industrialists who built their empires by creating national networks of railroads, telegraph lines, ship building facilities, and food processors; and the financiers of these large enterprises. These profiteers generally created business dynasties that lasted for generations. The Rockefeller fortune began when John D. quickly became wealthy during the Civil War by cornering the overland shipping businesses that moved produce to larger Eastern cities; and then he used his profits to invest in oil fields and refining equipment to form the basis of Standard Oil. Phillip Armour realized the Army would require large shipments of pork and signed purchase contracts with hundreds of farmers, in essence controlling the price to be paid by the Army. Samuel Colt continued to sell firearms to both the Union Army and Confederate state militias even after the Civil War began in April 1861. He ordered his factory to “produce around the clock” seven days a week to meet the demand of the opposing sides, and only stopped shipments to the South in July when he thought he might lose his Union military contracts.
The second type of profiteer speculated in commodities for financial gain including cotton, produce and meat, and especially gold. At the time, gold was the bell-weather currency in the northern United States, rising upon the de-stabilizing news of a Confederate victory, while the good news of a Union victory would result in falling prices. Gold traders could make a fortune by learning battlefield news before it became public and a few even paid reporters to give the trader a few minutes lead time in a coded telegraph before news was telegraphed to their newspapers. In the South, there was always some Cotton speculation, but gold speculation was not as widespread simply because that poorer region had little gold to trade.
The third type of profiteer built smaller enterprises (by comparison only) to turn a quick buck by selling a wide array of commodities at exorbitant prices to a disjointed military apparatus with little controls over cost or quality. Food sold to feed soldiers was poorly handled and sometimes spoiled, horses provided were often found to be sick and lame, and clothing was so poorly assembled that a new word entered the American lexicon; Shoddy!
And this last group of profiteers, these unscrupulous self-made millionaires, became known as “The Shoddy Aristocracy.”
The New York Herald ran this editorial: “The world has seen its silver age, its golden age. This is the age of shoddy. The new brownstone palaces on Fifth Avenue, the new diamonds which dazzle unaccustomed eyes, and the new people who live in the palaces and ride in the carriages, are all shoddy. Six days a week they are shoddy businessmen. On the seventh day, they are shoddy Christians.”
In the first few months of the War, Abraham Lincoln became aware that his Secretary of War, Simon Cameron might be steering lucrative contracts to certain suppliers. At first he held some hope that Cameron was being falsely maligned, but one congressman who looked into the matter told Lincoln. “It appears the only thing Cameron would not steal from your house is the red hot stove.” Lincoln, aware that an open scandal in the War Department would hurt the support for the war effort, requested more information before he would confront Cameron. After a few days, the Congressman returned and told Lincoln, “Mr. President, I was wrong about Cameron,….. he would even steal the hot stove!”
One contractor supplied 2,000 boots to the Union Army and made the soles out of pressed paper and wood chips, which fell apart after only a few miles of marching. When the quartermaster questioned him about the defective boots the man replied; “I thought they were for the Cavalry.”
Profiteers also plagued the South. An arms supplier, who required payment in advance from the new Confederate government, eventually delivered 2,000 old rifles with mismatched bayonets that would not attach and included the wrong type of ammunition. The quarter-master who took delivery said, “Fire? They will not fire, and they do not even make a good truncheon (club).”
One of the most versatile Civil War profiteers was John Pierpont Morgan, who built J.P. Morgan & Co into a financial powerhouse later in the century. Morgan made money financing industrialists (the first category) and speculating in gold (the second category). He then entered the third category of profiteer when found himself entangled in the “Hall Carbine Affair.” Morgan purchased 5,000 rifles (for $3.50 apiece) made by the Hall manufacturing Company but which had proven defective and had been returned by the Army. Morgan had new packing crates made which indicated the contents were new rifles and sold them at $22.00 each to a different quartermaster unit. When confronted by an inspector, Morgan testified that his rifles were fine but the Army mixed his shipment with other older rifles. The evidence was shaky so there was no resolution, and Morgan was able to keep the notoriety to a tolerable level.
Not so with the two most publicized profiteers whose shoddy merchandise earned them the moniker “The Gruesome Twosome!”
George Opdyke, one of the pair who earned the infamous title, made his money in New York City where he gained control of much of the garment trade, and operated large sweat shops throughout the city. His companies consistently delivered tents, blankets, and coats that were of such poor quality, they became known as “New York Rags” among the soldiers. When one military inspector complained that the seams in some shirts had openings, a foreman for Opdyke said it was for “ventilation.” Soldiers were not Opdyke’s only victims as his sweatshops were notorious for the poor treatment of the seamstresses who were paid only for piece work, which often came to less than twenty cents for a 12-14 hour shift. The New York Herald, in an editorial published near the end of the War, wrote, “Opdyke is a scoundrel, accomplished at bribery, political back-dealing, degradation of women, and manipulation of government contracts; a blight on our city.”
But Opdyke had company!
Elisha Brooks, joined Opdyke as the second member of the Gruesome Twosome. Brooks Brothers Tailors became an early major supplier of uniforms to the Union, and promised to deliver far more than their small tailoring company could manufacture by the deadline. They hastily assembled several of their own sweat shops, gave little or no training to the workers, and began turning out uniforms. However, they quickly ran out of the type of wool and cotton commonly used for men’s suits and began to manufacture an odd cloth made from cotton residue and scraps, pressed together with glue. As a result, most of the 12,000 uniforms provided to the New York Volunteers did not meet contract specifications, many lacked buttons and those made from the poorer cloth fell apart at the first rain. When Elisha Brooks was asked to explain the deficiencies to an inspector for the quartermaster, he replied; “I think that I cannot ascertain the difference without spending more time than I can now devote to that purpose.” (Huh?) Despite these known deficiencies, not only was Brooks Brothers paid in full for the first contract, but awarded additional contracts for over 48,000 uniforms. Elisha Brooks became rich during the War providing shoddy merchandise for the soldiers, but simultaneously created “Brooks Bros, A Purveyor of Fine Apparel for Men” which also became (and still is) a successful business selling to the well-to-do. The store was popular among the elite in Boston, New York, and Washington DC, and ironically, Abraham Lincoln wore a Brooks Brothers suit that sad evening at Ford’s Theater.
There have been profiteers in the business of War for as long as governments have fallen into conflict as a way to solve disputes. They learned how to make their way through the maze of government bureaucracy to obtain lucrative contracts using bribes, favors, misrepresentation, and political influence. The military, after all, is a massive consumer.
But the Civil War was the first time government purchases (both Union and Confederate) reached such a massive scale. Coincidently, it seems that some Americans developed a special affinity for doing their business with the military to assure maximum profits without regard for any harm caused to those fighting the war or to the government which was paying for it.
The New York Herald, in an editorial during the Civil War, wrote; “There must be a Divine punishment awaiting the man who will get rich by giving our poor soldiers miserable goods.”
We can only hope that the editor was right!
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Lincoln’s Use of Humor as a Leader (Article 42)
Throughout his life, Abraham Lincoln enjoyed humor and he liked a good story. Whether he was telling (or re-telling) a story or listening to others, he would laugh long and out-loud, slapping his knees, sometimes even with tears in his eyes. As a young man, he considered humor a form of entertainment, whether it was a farcical letter to a local newspaper, a full blown “yarn” or just a quick comeback in repartee with his friends. As he grew older, he learned that humor could also be used to make a point more clear to others, to diffuse tension, and to satirize another point of view; although, with a few exceptions, he did not use satire or sarcasm to humiliate another person. He effectively used humor in positive ways as a lawyer pleading his case, as a politician seeking votes, and as a President pressing for policies in which he believed. On the other hand, he seemed to reserve biting sarcasm for those who he thought deserved to be “brought down a notch” as too arrogant, untruthful, uncaring, lazy, or disrespectful.
During Abraham Lincoln’s lifetime, when friends gathered, the entertainment often consisted of someone who would play the piano or other instrument, another might sing popular songs, others would quote poetry and prose, and someone else might tell humorous stories. While Lincoln could not play an instrument, and he certainly could not sing as one friend said his voice “could frighten the angels in church,” Abraham Lincoln loved social gatherings with his friends, he was a popular guest, and was regularly called upon to add his own style of entertainment. Lincoln memorized long poems, passages from the Bible, and quotations from respected literature including Shakespeare soliloquies, which he often shared with other guests. But from the time he was a young man, he was best known for his humorous stories, especially his “yarns” which were tall tales often stretched out and with expressive gestures by Lincoln; and some said his delivery was as funny as the story. In such a social setting, he was a master entertainer and the following are yarns he told, as recalled by friends.
“There was a Governor who was visiting a jail on Christmas Eve, as it was his custom to pardon one or more convicts on that day who he determined had learned their lesson. Each prisoner spent a few moments with the Governor as he asked them to explain why they were in such a place. One by one the men who entered were exceedingly polite, their appearance fussed over to make them look as respectable as possible, every one said they had committed no offence against society, and that they were good men, wrongly confined. The Governor took careful notes of each man. But, when the last prisoner came before the Governor, the man had apparently made no effort to improve his appearance, which was as unkempt as ever seen, stood with a scowl that would make the devil proud, and stared at the Governor. When asked about his crime, the man admitted that he had caused mayhem for no good reason, deserved the punishment, and would likely do it again if given the opportunity. The governor was shocked, as you can imagine. He called in the warden and proclaimed he had never seen such a righteous group of men as those who had first come before him. Then, said the Governor, to see the last man, a man so bad as to make the Governor tremble, his decision on pardons was reached. He could not let that obviously evil man influence the more virtuous men and lead them astray, so the Governor said that the only way to protect the ten ‘innocents’ was to pardon the vile confessed criminal and leave the others in the safe confines of the jail.”
This second example of a yarn is found in the book “Abraham Lincoln, an Uncommon, Common Man” but deserves repeating.
Exhibitions of hot air balloons were popular in the late 1850s and Lincoln loved to tell this story. “There was a hot air balloon show, in the deep south, where many people came, and were willing to pay good money, to witness the spectacle. The balloonist was dressed in beautiful silk robes, had flowing long hair and a great beard, and was certainly a sight to behold. He intended to rise into the sky, tethered to the ground by a long rope, for the amusement of the patrons. However, as he rose from the earth, waving to those below, a gust of wind snapped the tether and, to the horror of the gathered crowd (and certainly the occupant as well), the balloon and its basket, with the poor aerialist trapped inside, floated away. Some-time later, the balloon and its passenger began to float down over a large cotton field being worked by several slaves. Of course, none of the slaves had ever seen a balloon descending, or ascending for that matter, and were justly in awe of the sight. All of them ran from the field in fright except one elderly slave who just watched with sincere interest as the balloon slowly descended and finally landed. The elaborately costumed balloonist with his long hair and beard, and his robes flowing in the wind, stepped out. Reflecting on what he had just seen, the old slave walked up, took off his hat, bowed slightly and said, ‘Mornin, Massa Jesus. How’s your Pa’?”
Lincoln would often start laughing before he finished this and most other yarns because, he said, “I already start thinking about the ending.”
He often joked about his own appearance. He said a woman accosted him on the street saying, “Mr. Lincoln, you are so ugly it spoils my walk”. Lincoln, said “I am sorry madam but there is nothing I can do.” “Yes there is”, she said, “you could stay indoors more.” In telling this joke on other occasions, he would say that woman had told him “It is a shame God made you so ugly.”
Lincoln was no prude and his jokes could occasionally be on the “earthy” side but he always seemed to be mindful of the propriety depending on his audience. Further, although some of the stories might have been risqué, there was none of the vulgarity that we sometimes find in today’s attempts at humorous entertainment.
In addition to simple entertainment, he would often use a yarn or anecdote to further explain a point he was trying to make. He would usually start by saying, “That reminds me of a story” and begin his example. Most of his acquaintances appreciated his wit as part of a policy discussion, but certainly not everyone. Edwin Stanton, a Democrat, who became Lincoln’s second Secretary of War, had little sense of humor and no patience for Lincoln’s stories. Stanton said that he always understood Lincoln’s point without the necessity for another allegory, but Stanton’s objections never deterred the President. Once Lincoln was making the point to Stanton that Union Generals needed to better use their strengths against a deadly enemy, and said: “Mr. Stanton, that reminds me of a story.” As usual, Stanton said he did not want to hear another story, but Lincoln kept on talking anyway, saying: “A farmer was attacked by his neighbor’s dog and he killed the dog with a pitchfork he was carrying. The neighbor demanded to know why the farmer didn’t just hit the dog with the other end of the pitchfork. The farmer said, ‘Well, I would have, if I had been attacked by the other end of your dog”. While Stanton never learned to appreciate Lincoln’s humor, he did, over time, develop sincere respect for the President.
Before the Confederates fired on Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor, a contingent of Senators with close ties to the South, urged President Lincoln to simply abandon federal forts, and other installations such as courthouses, located in the southern states. They believed that if the Union forfeited these properties, the Confederate government might be willing to keep some form of alliance with the rest of the United States. Lincoln argued that the Southern leaders would not be satisfied, that the Union would be in a weaker position after the forfeitures, and the likely result would be permanent break-up of the United States. Lincoln said that he could not permit that outcome.
He said: “I am reminded of a story about a farmer whose daughter was receiving the attention a young man. The younger man was always accompanied by a large dog, so the farmer had some reason to fear the young man and his dog. When the young man, along with his dog, approached the father to express his romantic interest in the daughter, the farmer told the young man that he would consider the matter but that the dog would frighten the daughter. He suggested that most of the dog’s sharp teeth be removed to assuage the father’s concerns for his daughter’s safety. The young man asked the town’s doctor to extract some of the dog’s teeth and file down others; and returned the next day. The farmer agreed that the now near toothless dog was less of a threat than before, but said that the dog’s claws could still frighten the daughter. By now the young man was hopelessly enamored and desperate to begin what he hoped would be a brief courtship and early marriage, so he went back to the town doctor and had the animal’s nails removed from its paws. Running back to the farmer, the young man showed the farmer the impaired dog, with few teeth and only soft paws, and said he now expected the father to be accept the young man as his new son-in-law. Instead, the farmer, now with no fear of the man’s dog, rose up and told him he would never be a part of his family.” Lincoln said; “Would it not be so for the Union, if, like the young man, I give in to all that is asked by the South, and can no longer press our case with vigor.” Like many of Lincoln’s yarns, this one is not original and is actually a variation of an Aesop’s fable about a lion seeking a maiden. When another Congressional delegation later approached Lincoln on the same matter, he told Aesop’s version about the lion, instead of the illustration of the young man and his dog. But, his point was exactly the same!
When another delegation suggested that he should just turn away from the Southern states and let them depart, Lincoln replied that “If you turn your backside to the fire, when it flares up because you are not watching, you will have to sit on the blister.”
Lincoln also found that a bit of humor could diffuse a tense situation. In one instance, he and his Secretary of State, William Seward, were riding in a carriage when the horse bolted and the wheels of the carriage were pulled over rough ground, violently throwing about the driver and his passengers. The driver eventually regained control but not before screaming an extensive (maybe historic) string of curse words; and Secretary Seward also contributed a few choice epithets during the ordeal. As the men gathered their breath, Lincoln said: “Driver are you an Episcopalian?” The driver, at first startled, replied, “No sir, more of a Methodist, if anything.” Lincoln then said, “Interesting, you swear just like Secretary Seward and he is an Episcopalian.”
In another instance, Lincoln visited an observation platform about five miles from Washington DC, that overlooked Fort Stevens, which at the time was being harassed by Confederate forces. Despite polite cautions from senior officers, including a General, Lincoln suddenly climbed a short ladder to better see the rebel lines. With his tall hat an obvious target, bullets started whizzing past the President, and a young Captain grabbed Lincoln’s coat and pulled him back, shouting, “Get down you fool, before you get shot.” Lincoln landed on his haunches, and with other officers looking on horrified at the Captain’s forcefulness, Lincoln rose, dusted himself off and said, “Well, Captain, I have finally met someone who knows how to speak straight to this President.” The others relaxed as Lincoln laughed and shook hands with the Captain. The tension was definitely eased. Interestingly, the Captain, Oliver Wendell Holmes, later became an honored Supreme Court Justice.
While Lincoln enjoyed humor under most circumstances and certainly teased others as part of his give and take among friends, he was very cautious about using humor to embarrass someone. But he was willing to use both humiliation and sarcasm whenever he found himself dealing with arrogance, disrespect, or callousness toward others; and often his targets were lawyers, Generals, and politicians; as in these examples.
Rather than say an opposing lawyer was lying, Lincoln said, “My opponent has such a great regard for the truth that he has spent much of his time embellishing it.”
One day the Postmaster of Washington DC suddenly died and a Congressman ran to Lincoln to inform him. Lincoln knew the postmaster and was shocked and saddened by the news. Before Lincoln could even reply, the Congressman said, “Mr. Lincoln, I would like to take his place.” A disgusted Lincoln said, “Well, Congressman, that will be fine with me, if it is alright with the undertaker.”
Lincoln would also use sarcasm to point out the absurd egos of certain Generals. Of one he said, “The General is the only man I know who can strut sitting down.” As he often did, Lincoln may have “borrowed” that phrase from Secretary of State William Seward, himself a great wit. One of Lincoln’s regular foils was General George McClellan, whose arrogance was legendary, who was notorious for military delays, and who was repeatedly disrespectful to his Commander-in-Chief. Lincoln once sent McClellan this telegram, “General, if you are not going to use your Army, may I borrow it for a while.” Then, after McClellan complained that he could not advance because his horses were “tongue tired”, Lincoln responded with, “Pardon me for asking, General, what have your horses done lately that would tire anything”. McClellan obviously grew tired of Lincoln’s constant press for details of his “progress” and sent this telegram; “Mr. President, today my army captured two cows. What would you have us do with them?” Lincoln, not willing to waste any more time, immediately responded, “General, milk them!” Within days, Lincoln finally replaced McClellan as the Commanding General.
Lincoln biographers do not believe the following example of sarcasm actually occurred, but as he often did, Lincoln placed himself in the story for effect. “A congressman who was also a lawyer, and not very good at either, came to me and asked to be given a federal judgeship. Fortunately, I knew of no vacancy at the time so I was able to truthfully tell him that I could not help him, for that reason. Several days later the Congressman happened upon a scene where a body was pulled from the Washington canal, and saw that it was one of the sitting Federal Judges. He must have ran directly to me because, while panting heavily, he blurted out his request to fill the new vacancy. I told him he was too late because I had already appointed another lawyer,…one who saw the poor judge fall in.”
Lincoln rarely used such harsh forms of sarcasm, even on those who used direct and/or angry attacks on him personally. He once said that “It is better to use a poke, instead of a stab.” Lincoln seemed to have always wanted to leave room for a settlement of any disagreement and tried to not let vicious sarcasm, even when directed at him by others, stand in the way; and he knew that insults and ridicule hurled during political debate would be impediments to future cooperation.
As an example of his more “gentle” satire, he had this exchange with Stephen A. Douglas during a political debate. Douglas, who was very wealthy, was attempting to illustrate his common roots and said that his father had been a fine woodcraftsman and barrel maker (a prized skill in those days). Lincoln countered that, “I concede that my friend Douglas’s father was indeed a fine barrel maker.” And then, looking over at his opponent’s short and rotund figure, continued, “And here stands one of the finest barrels his father ever made!” Douglas laughed too.
Lincoln was also keenly aware that successful governance in a Republic required a dialogue between those with opposing views, and usually some compromise was necessary to effect positive change and/or to prevent irreversible breeches. He found humor to be an effective way to advance the conversations, or sometimes even more importantly to keep a dialogue from collapsing, and he was often able to sway the opposition closer to his position.
Judging from the personal attacks, excesses in sarcasm, and attempts at humiliation which we hear today, many of our current politicians could benefit from the study of Abraham Lincoln’s example.
But, for some of them, that is probably a bridge too far!
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Letters Home - A Memorial Day Tribute (Article 41)
Soldiers have been writing home for centuries and some of the most poignant letters ever written are from husbands to their wives on the eve of battle. The Civil War put three million soldiers in harm’s way and their letters home left a remarkable legacy.
Some of the most touching letters were brief notes, hastily written and sometimes poorly spelled, from simple soldiers who wanted to tell their wives that they were loved. The themes in the letters are similar whether written by a Union or Confederate soldier, by an officer or enlisted man, or even if the writer was well educated or not. The letters are quoted as they were written, with spelling and grammar reflective of the times, and, since they speak for the emotions of all soldiers, with one exception, the writer is not identified.
“Dearest Emily,
I do not have much time. Surly some of us will die tomorrow. If God calls me, I am ready to go but will miss you for eternity. I think of your smile and tuch evry day. I hope I am spard and get to see you again. I love you above all others, my dear wife.
John”
“Anne,
God bless you dearest for your kind and encouraging letter. It came like a sunbeam to brighten my pathway. While reading it I forgot my wounds and pain and in thought I was again with my little curly headed pet again. Do you know darling that thoughts of the happy hours spent with you are the kindest ones that seem to chase me in my hour of lonliness. Why is this? What weird enchantment is this which you surround me that scarce do my thoughts wander to my loved ere thay wander to my little tease. But I suppose that is one of your mischiefous pranks. So I will just grin and bear it. I must close, my loving kiss dearest and good night.
Jesse”
“Lovly Mary,
It must be God’s will that my family men fight. My pappys pappy had to fight the Englanders, and my pappy fought Indians and in Mexico. Here I am doing soldering and know I may die but I am not sorry for me but I am only sorry for you. I wish I could help you and the boys. I think about you every day. I don’t even know how long I will be gone before I can see you - to long I think. I love you and mis you.
Tad”
“To my dearest Camille,
How I miss you. I thought this War would be over quick and I was very wrong. I do not see an end and I despair that I might not see you again. Some of the boys are ready to run but I will not. I pray that God gives me a lifetime at home with you but if He does not, I pray that He gives you comfort. My love is everlasting. Please tell my mother that I love her.
Robert”
“Dear sweet Molly,
I lernd today that your brother Zach was kild in the fiting at Shilo. I am sorry for him and his. I fear I will be next. The war is the worst you can imagine. I wonder if any of us will come home. If I am kild, you should move down county to live with ma and sister. I hoped to send you more money but there is no pay for a month. I am sorry for the gref and worry I cause you. I want to tell you that I love you but I can only writ the words. Your loving husband,
Jes”
This last letter is one that captures the love a soldier held for his wife. However, since historians know the story of the family from other letters between the two, their names are included.
On July 14, 1861, Union Major Sullivan Ballou was stationed near Washington DC and was preparing his regiment to meet Confederate forces in what would become the first significant battle of the Civil War. He was thirty-two years old, was a successful lawyer and was serving in the Rhode Island legislature. However, as soon as the Confederate states began to seize Federal installations in South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi, he recognized that war was eminent and volunteered to lead a newly formed unit. When Fort Sumter was fired upon and President Lincoln requested that Northern states assemble sufficient troops to defend Washington DC from an expected attack, Major Ballou said goodbye to his family. The Capital city was under threat of invasion from Confederate forces massed in Virginia, only about 100 miles away. But, for a while, only minor skirmishes occurred, including Federal seizure of Arlington Virginia, just across the Potomac. In letters home, Major Ballou had told his wife that he welcomed any delay in battle because his soldiers needed time for training. Finally, after nearly three months, as the two military forces were moving toward a confrontation, Major Ballou wrote this letter to his wife, Sarah.
“July 14, 1861
My very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we will move in a few days-perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans on the triumph of the government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing-perfectly willing-to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this government, and to pay that debt.
Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all those chains to the battlefield. The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And as hard as it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown to honorable manhood around us.
I have, I know but few small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.
Forgive my many faults and the many pains I caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been. How gladly I would wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you, in the gladdest days, and in the darkest nights. Always, always, and if there is a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Sarah, do not mourn me dead, think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.
Your dearest husband,
Sullivan”
The next day, Major Ballou led his men to Manassas, Virginia where they engaged the Confederate army at Bull Run Creek. He was mortally wounded early in the battle, and died the following week.
Sarah received his last letter and learned of his death on the same day.
To all of the members of the military, men and women, who gave their lives in service to our country, and to their families left behind whose sacrifice and loss is immeasurable, we should all pause in remembrance and gratitude on this Memorial Day.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Angels of the Battlefield (Article 40)
They came from every walk of life. They were overwhelmingly single, including many widows, but otherwise they represented a cross-section of women in the mid-19th century. Some were wealthy and donated both their time and money while others were so poor that the meager salary they earned and access to regular meals actually improved their standard of living. Some were well educated but most, while literate, had little formal schooling.
And, very few had ever had any medical training, but they had an impact on modern medicine which benefits us all today. They were the Nurses of the Civil War.
We do not know many of their names as almost all are lost in the fog of history. Hanna Ropes, Amanda Akin, Mary Ann Bickerdyke and Georgeanna Woolsey were among the heroes of the Civil War who have left some record of their service and are known to a few. Dorothea Dix has also been remembered by some and Clara Barton probably by more. But these women were only a small part the nearly 8,000 nurses who cared for the wounded and dying during the Civil War, whether their patients wore blue or grey. Dorothea Dix, called Dragon Dix by some, became noteworthy in history as the first appointed leader of the Union Nurses Corps. And Clara Barton, a nurse who had lobbied to gain access to the front lines, persevered until the Generals caved in to her demands; then served valiantly in the battlefields. Miss Barton later became a leader for the formation of nursing schools and reached fame as the founder of the American Red Cross. That we know these other names at all is because the women left letters or diaries of their experiences; with some of the most profound commentary describing the terrible carnage of the War.
Georgianna Woolsey wrote of her transition from empathetic compassion for each soldier, to a recognition that the waves of new patients required some pragmatism. “I deliberately turn my lantern on a wounded soldier’s face and ask the doctor, ‘is this man dead’ and watched coolly as he pronounced him dead. Then I said, ‘Well, that will make one more bed.’ I could not have said that a year ago.”
The chances are that the dead soldier had succumbed, not directly from a wound received in battle, but from pneumonia, dysentery, typhoid, other diseases or infections. Of the hundreds of thousands of young men who died while serving in the military of the Union and Confederate forces, more than 50% fell to causes other than directly from a battlefield wound. Poor sanitation was perhaps the number one killer. As the war progressed, there were improvements in surgical procedures, basic medical care, and general sanitation, but the numbers of non-battle losses were still horrific by today’s standards.
Miss Woolsey also wrote about how she spent her time, “Most days were the same. They (dead and dying) were up and down what seemed like a mile of uneven floor; coaxing some back to life, watching the youngest and best die. Then the next day would begin again.”
Amanda Aiken wrote of her first day, “I meekly followed (the nurse) through the long ward unable to return the gaze of the occupants and with a sinking heart watched her raise the head of a poor fellow in the last stages….my courage failed.” But later she wrote, “We pass up and down among these rough men without fear of the slightest word of disrespect. They feel their dependence upon us for comfort and the difference in the wards where there is no lady, shows how much can be done for them.” And then, “While I pray to help them all, I know cannot.”
Early in the War, women would simply appear wherever wounded soldiers were assembled, usually in hastily organized hospitals away from the battle lines. They just wanted to help, but, at first, many were turned away. The Victorian customs of modesty and protection of the “sensibilities” of women prompted most doctors and hospital administrators at the time to oppose women assisting in the personal care of men who they did not know. In fact, before the Civil War, almost all women involved in medical care in America served only women and children; an exception was a few dedicated nuns in hospitals run by convents.
As the War began, in addition to the few male hospital attendants, both Union and Confederate Armies expected that other convalescing soldiers who were able to help, would provide care to their more seriously wounded or ill comrades. Most Generals and doctors did not want, and thought they did not need, additional help from these women.
But the unprecedented carnage of the Civil War quickly overwhelmed most male hospital staffs and some women were finally welcomed as care givers; slowly at first, but the onslaught of wounded soon erased the last barriers. Less than a year into the war, President Abraham Lincoln asked Dorothea Dix to organize a “Women’s Nurses Corps” in Washington DC to care for the tremendous influx of patients. Reflecting society’s concerns about interactions with soldiers, her early rules stated that the nurse was to be “over thirty years of age, plain in looks and in dress.” Records indicate that hospitals in Washington DC probably cared for about 1,000 soldiers in May and June of 1861 but over 30,000 by December; and thousands more were served in other cities. Lincoln also authorized the formation of the Sanitation Commission, with branches in every major northern city, to raise money and to develop procedures to improve the level of care for soldiers; and he encouraged that women be appointed to roles overseeing the effort. One of the goals of the Commission was to improve the survival rate of wounded soldiers; and gradually, over the four years of the War, the situation improved; but thousands of the patients still died before they could be sent home.
Hanna Ropes had read several articles and a book by Florence Nightingale, the famous English nurse who organized the first “Red Cross” during that county’s conflict in the Crimea. Miss Ropes decided to join the Nurses Corps and her superb organizational skills were soon recognized and she became the Director of the largest Union hospital in Washington DC. One of her recruits was the author, Louisa May Alcott, who would later write “Little Women” but whose published “Letters Home” in the Atlantic Monthly during the War became instrumental in gaining public support for the Sanitation Commission and respect for the nurses who served. Miss Alcott, who contracted typhoid during her service and came close to death, said that her experiences in the hospitals were essential to the later development of her empathetic characters in her books.
One Southern nurse wrote, “I have never worked so hard in my life and I would rather do that than anything else in the world.”
Unlike some of the military doctors of both the Union and Confederate armies, who notoriously refused to treat enemy combatants, nurses rarely discriminated when helping the soldiers. While Washington DC had separate hospitals to care for Union soldiers and Confederate prisoners of war, nurses frequently served in both wards. One nurse, who lived in the city wrote, “They were all just boys who desperately needed aid and comfort. Who was I to choose?”
An unfortunate fact is that wounded or ill Confederate soldiers who were hospitalized in southern cities, faced more difficult circumstances, including shortages of medical supplies, food, and trained personnel. The Confederate efforts to care for their injured were further hampered by a continuing resistance to having women care for men whose wounds were more intimate. One southern politician stated that; “It is unladylike for our women to care for ruffians,” indicating his low regard not only for the common soldier, but also for the women who wanted to serve. In a direct response, Sally Tompkins, who had started a private hospital with six other nurses in Richmond for badly wounded Confederate soldiers, replied; “A woman’s respectability must be at a low ebb if it can be endangered by helping our soldiers in a hospital” and added, “It is not the propriety of the nurses or the soldiers that should be questioned.”
But the main hindrance to better care in the South was pure economics. The southern population was enduring such financial hardships that there was no equivalent of the privately funded Sanitary Commission, which was proving so helpful in the North. As a result, the rates of subsequent deaths of wounded Confederate soldiers, who were sent to Southern hospitals after they were taken from the field, were substantially worse than for Union forces. Perhaps the only advantage for women in the south, who wanted to serve as nurses, was that they did not usually have to go far from home; as most of the War was fought in and around their own farms, towns, cities, and sometimes even in their own back yards. One noted; “With us, every house was a hospital.”
The North certainly had an advantage with its larger and wealthier population, and the financial contributions by citizens provided much of the funding for medical care.
As a fierce Unionist and abolitionist, Clara Barton was determined to serve in the War in some capacity. She decided to try to take medical care to battle areas and began to raise funds from New England supporters to buy her own supplies. Then she pulled every string she could, including a request to President Lincoln, to overcome the objections of the various Generals she challenged; and when they finally relented, she said, “I went in while the battle raged.” She was not exaggerating. In one instance, while she was tending to a wounded soldier, a bullet tore through her sleeve and struck the soldier in the head, killing him instantly. On another occasion, she performed the first recorded surgery by a woman in the War when she removed a bullet from a soldier’s cheek, then cleaned and dressed the wound. It was probably not the only such occurrence but she did not want to draw attention to herself because most doctors did not want women involved at all with surgery. In a letter she wrote; “While our soldiers fight, I can at least stand and feed and nurse them.” After observing her courage under fire, one doctor, who welcomed Miss Barton, referred to her as “The Angel of the Battlefield.”
Another who served near the front lines was Mary Ann Bickerdyke, a Quaker, who was fifty-five when the war broke out. She became known to Union General William Tecumseh Sherman for her courageous efforts, and resourcefulness, near battlefields. One doctor said “She would find medical necessities and food in a manner that is much like the Biblical loaves and fishes.” Miss Bickerdyke became the only woman General Sherman would allow in his army camps and, when he was asked why, he replied “She (out) ranks me!”
However, even after overcoming public apprehension over women providing nursing care to men, still only a few women were permitted by doctors to assist in surgery. In fact, despite a government order that women, if they volunteered, be permitted help with surgeries, acceptance by the doctors was rare. Georgeanne Woolsey wrote, “Hardly a surgeon treated (the nurses) with even common courtesy. The Army surgeons determined to make their lives so unbearable that they should be forced in self-defense to leave. I did not.”
These women, sharing a common existence, became close. A nurse from Virginia, praising her fellow nurses, wrote, “Would that I could thank my dear friends. Any labor rendered effective by me for the good of the South, if any sick soldier ever benefited from my pleasant smiles at his bed-side, or death was ever soothed by gentle words of hope and tender care, such results were owing to the encouragement I received from them. My only wish was to live and die among them, growing each day better from contact with their gentle, kindly sympathies, and heroic hearts.”
Despite the early resistance to women nurses, we know that several thousand did serve. The names of most, however are lost in history and, later in her life, Clara Barton wrote this poem in their honor.
“And who were they all, and they were many, my men.
Their record was not kept by table or pen.
They exist in traditions from father to son,
Who recalls, in dim memory, now here and there, one.
A few names were writ, and by chance live today.
But is perishing fast, just fading away.”
For the care we receive from today’s nurses, we owe these “Angels of the Battlefield” from the Civil War, at the very least, a moment of reflective thought for the wonderful legacy they left.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
The Final Journey of Abraham Lincoln (Article 39)
They were grieving, but there were plans to be made. Urgently!
For the first time in American history, a President of the United States had been assassinated.
Only a day earlier, on Good Friday, April 14, 1865, Abraham Lincoln, his associates, and indeed a majority of all Americans, had been rejoicing that the Confederate government had abandoned Richmond, Confederate armies were surrendering, and the four-year war was ending. But then, amid what must have been nearly overwhelming shock and grief, the President’s family, friends and Cabinet members had only a few days to plan funeral events which, they hoped, would somehow allow millions of people to commonly grieve for their tragic loss.
Except for the immediate elevation of the Vice-President under the Constitution, there was no protocol to follow, no funeral service outline, and not even a specific place for his burial. Further complicating the planning process, the President’s widow was in no condition to make decisions or even provide assistance to those who would take charge.
What emerged from this chaos was a heartfelt tribute to the fallen President which gave the American people the opportunity to personally pay their respects during a remarkable twenty-day period after his death. The grieving funeral planners did their sad jobs, and did them very well. As a result, during the time from the first service on Monday, April 17, until the final service and burial on Thursday, May 4, 1865, the nation was able to say an extraordinary farewell.
Abraham Lincoln was going home.
He had died on Saturday morning April 15, 1865 and on Monday, Robert Lincoln, the President’s son, invited close friends and cabinet members to a viewing at the White House; and on Tuesday, the public was permitted to pass through. On Wednesday, after a brief service, the funeral procession made its way down Pennsylvania Avenue, where all buildings were draped in black, to the Rotunda of the Capitol Building; under the new dome which President Lincoln had insisted be completed during the Civil War as a symbol of the continuity of the Union. Over 100,000 citizens filed past his coffin in Washington DC before it was placed on a nine car funeral train, also draped in black, to re-trace the 1,700-mile journey Lincoln had taken from Springfield, Illinois to the Nation’s capital for his first inauguration; only four years earlier.
Over the next 12 days, the train made stops in Baltimore, Harrisburg, Philadelphia, New York City, Albany, Buffalo, Cleveland, Columbus, Indianapolis, Michigan City, Chicago and, its final destination, Springfield, Illinois; and processions and funeral services were held at each of those cities. Reliable historical records indicate that over ten million people witnessed the funeral events in some manner; over half of the combined populations in Washington DC and the states along the route. They assembled in the larger cities with scheduled stops, including Philadelphia where the President lay in Independence Hall for 24 hours. And, in New York City, one million people lined the streets, including Broadway and Fifth Avenue, to watch the four-hour procession pass; the largest gathering of Americans in the country’s history until then. However, millions of others simply stood silently by the railroad tracks in the countryside and in numerous small towns just to watch the train pass.
For those who had to make the plans, and assure the events were appropriate and on schedule, those first few days must have been incredibly difficult.
Most of the urgent decisions for the funeral were made by Cabinet member Edwin Stanton, the President’s two secretaries John Nicolay and John Hay, his friend, Ward Lamon, and his son, Robert Lincoln. They knew that thousands, likely millions, of their fellow citizens would want the opportunity to personally show their respects to the President; however, they debated the best way to accommodate the public, while maintaining the appropriate solemn dignity. Certainly, a catafalque would need to be acquired upon which the President’s casket could be placed, but no one could recall one in Washington DC; so they directed that three White House carpenters build one suitable for the occasion. The workmen must have been honored to be asked to use their skills in such a way, and to their credit, they designed and built the catafalque in only two days; and it was deemed a “Worthy and Grand Edifice” by one newspaper. Unfortunately for our country, that same platform would later be needed for three more assassinated Presidents; James Garfield, William McKinley, and John F. Kennedy.
One of the issues faced by those trying to plan the funeral events was that, in 1865, the fastest form of communication across distance was the telegraph. All of the people trying to prepare and coordinate multiple events in Washington, and with those in various cities along the route, had to first dictate their message, have an operator input the message in telegraphic code, which was received by another operator and decoded, before being presented to the intended recipient. Then, if there was any question or further discussion needed, the process had to be reversed; so there was often a delay in any final decision. Despite these limitations, the hundreds of organizers pulled off nearly flawless events in numerous cities over 17 days with almost perfect timing.
For example, even the decision of the location for the burial place of the President was not decided without long distance communication and coordination during the first two days after his death. There was debate as to whether the President should be buried in Washington or back in Springfield, or possibly Chicago, since no prior arrangements, or even expectations, had been made by Lincoln or his family. Why would they have? After all, he was only fifty-six years old, had just been re-elected to a second four-year term, planned to travel to Europe and the Holy Land after his final term, and then return to his law practice in Springfield where he thought he would live out the rest of his life. Robert recalled that, several years earlier, his mother had helped dedicate the new Oak Ridge Cemetery in Springfield and he inquired about availability there. Of course there was no tomb suitable for a President, but there was a hill in the cemetery that friends of the family thought would be a good location to build a crypt. However, at the same time, with the best of intentions, but unbeknownst to the family, and in a rush to accommodate a suitable place for a Presidential tomb, some leaders in Springfield quickly purchased a six-acre site in the downtown area. On Monday evening, two days after the assassination, Mary regained some semblance of composure, and along with Robert, concurred in the decision to bury the President in the Oak Ridge Cemetery, but not before considerable telegraph traffic had been sent between Washington and Springfield to make the choice.
While officials in other major cities along the train route would have a few extra days to make their plans, those in Washington DC had no such advantage. Decisions had to be made quickly and then directives given to those who would carry out the assignments. For example, in addition to building a catafalque, arrangements for a horse drawn cortege had to be made and Cavalrymen selected to accompany the planned procession from the White House to the Capitol Building. Further, to accommodate the expected crowds, grandstands were ordered to be constructed. While it was a frantic pace, the cabinet members and friends of Abraham Lincoln worked so well together in this tragic situation that the commemorative events in Washington DC provided the city’s residents, and thousands of visitors, a fitting farewell to the President.
Then, there was also, “The President’s Train.”
The concept of the special train with stops re-tracing Lincoln’s inaugural route was developed by Edwin Stanton, Ward Lamon, and Robert Lincoln, and the logistics of those arrangements required the coordination of hundreds of officials and workmen, but the train was still ready to leave Washington DC at 7am on Friday, only six days after Lincoln’s death. The train was covered in black cloth, with large American Flags. It had nine cars, including a car built earlier for the President which contained a parlor, sleeping compartment, and a former reception area which was converted to hold the President’s coffin and catafalque, while other cars accommodated nearly 300 mourners, many of whom made the entire twelve-day trip. The train was ordered to never travel more than twenty miles per hour and the very detailed schedule, which gave anticipated locations in half-hour increments for the entire route, was printed in over one hundred newspapers along its expected path. Robert rode to Baltimore on the train, but from there, returned to Washington to help his mother. Also on the train was the body of Willie, the young son who had died in the White House in 1862, which had been buried in Washington DC.
Willie was going home with his father.
A reporter in Chicago who knew Lincoln tried to express the overwhelming sadness he observed throughout city and concluded his remarks poetically. “He who writes this is weeping. He who reads this is weeping. Hushed be the city. Hung be the heavens in black. Let the tumult of traffic cease. Let the streets be still. Let the lake rest. Let the winds be lulled. Let the bells toll. Home, bear him tenderly home.”
In Springfield, after the last funeral service, on May 4, 1865, the bodies of President Lincoln and his son, Willie, were placed in a temporary tomb, just below the hill where they would later be interred. Work soon started on what would become “Lincoln’s Tomb” which would be the final, and fitting, resting place for a special President.
Abraham Lincoln was home.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
The Texas Secession (Article 38)
“Do not join these others and secede from the United States. They welcomed us in 1845 and protected us from invasion, and to separate now is dishonorable.”
Despite this plea from Governor Sam Houston in January 1861, Texas soon joined other southern states to form the Confederate States of America.
After Abraham Lincoln’s election in 1860, and before he took office in March 1861, there was little doubt that 8 or 9 southern states would secede; however, many in the north still held a slim hope that Virginia and Texas might decide to remain in the Union. Virginia was a Border State which had many economic ties to the Union, and Sam Houston, the popular Governor of Texas had recently been re-elected and was expressly pro-union. Most observers in the north, including Lincoln, thought Texas might “sit out the war,” but they did not understand the political winds in this bastion of independence. There were three major factions at work in Texas.
The first was led by the Governor, Sam Houston, who was instrumental in Texas winning independence from Mexico. When Texas issued its “Declaration of Independence” in 1836, the Mexican army was sent to put down the uprising and regain control of the break-away territory. While Mexico had initial success at the battle of the Alamo, General Houston soon led the Texas Army to victory at the battle of San Jacinto and negotiated a treaty under which Mexico eventually relinquished claims to Texas. Houston subsequently became the President of the sovereign nation of Texas, and in 1845, he led the movement for Texas to join the United States; in part because he feared a new government in Mexico might try to invade Texas. He next became a U.S. Senator from the state of Texas, then its Governor, and was a staunch Unionist.
The second faction was a group of early settlers to Texas, mostly ranchers, who originally aligned with Sam Houston, but who had opposed giving up their hard won sovereignty as an independent nation when Texas sought to join the United States in 1845. They believed Texas could thrive as a small nation trading both with the United States and Mexico and were concerned that their unique Anglo-Mexican heritage could be lost within the larger United States population. This group viewed that a new alignment with the proposed Confederacy would offer greater autonomy for their state; and since the new Confederate Constitution provided a method for states to legally secede, some thought that Texas might later leave the Confederacy and once again be an independent nation.
The third faction was comprised of many transplants from other deep southern states and included most of the slave-holders in Texas, who were planters concentrated in the prime agricultural areas along the eastern border with Louisiana and the nearby gulf coast. This group was disappointed in the outcome of the Mexican War of 1847, when they thought that the United States should have annexed even more Mexican territory to create future states in which slavery would be authorized. Many in this faction had already discussed the possibility of secession from the United States during the Congressional debates in 1850 and 1854 over the expansion of slavery. They believed that the Confederate States of America would protect their right to own slaves.
Governor Houston warned these two opposition factions, saying (in part): “Let me tell you what is coming. Your fathers and husbands, your sons and brothers, will be herded at the point of the bayonet. You may, after the sacrifice of countless millions in treasure and hundreds of thousands of lives, as a bare possibility, win Southern Independence. But I doubt it. The North is determined to preserve this Union. They are not a fiery, impulsive people as you are, but when they begin to move in a given direction, they move with the steady momentum and perseverance of a mighty avalanche. And what I fear is, they will overwhelm the South…. and Texas with it.”
In December 1860, the second and third factions, which disagreed on almost all other issues, except secession, formed a fractured coalition long enough to demand that Governor Houston convene a special session of the Texas legislature to debate and vote on secession from the United States. At first, Houston simply ignored the request, but within weeks, the momentum within the state shifted dramatically and other government officials, who were part of the new coalition, by-passed the Governor and declared an immediate statewide election for delegates to a Secession Convention to be held on January 28, 1861. These officials then held a series of “unauthorized” delegate elections, most simply by voice votes, in small towns around the state. To counter this internal rebellion, Houston decided to call a special session of the legislature which he expected would invalidate the Secession Convention and the related delegate elections.
Sam Houston’s expectations could not have been more wrong.
Instead, the legislature approved the establishment of the Convention by a vote of 140-28 and, when Houston vetoed the action, quickly over-rode his veto. However, the Governor still had enough friends in the legislature to pass a motion which required a vote of the people to confirm (or reject) the Convention’s decision; and Houston had at least some expectation that he might be able to rally voters to keep Texas in the Union.
On February 1, 1861, the Secession Convention delegates voted 166-7 to recommend secession. Now, it was left to the voters of Texas to decide.
Texas had a total population of over 421,000 free citizens and 161,000 slaves. On February 23rd, amid threats of violence at polling places from all three factions, only 61,000 Texans voted out of the probable 100,000 “adult men of substance” who were eligible to cast ballots. Of those, 46,000 voted to secede from the United States; so, while 75% of those voting chose to leave the United States, the matter was decided by less than 50% of eligible voters. But, it passed!
Houston’s expectation that the voters would choose to remain in the Union, was again, wrong.
He now accepted the fact that Texas would secede from the Union. However, his patriotism to Texas (or stubbornness as others thought) led him to ask that the state legislature reject membership in the Confederacy and revert Texas back to its former status as an independent nation. Then, as a sovereign country, Texas could remain neutral in the looming Civil War.
But, Houston’s latest expectation (by now probably only a hope) was, again, wrong.
Texas officially joined the Confederate States of America on March 4, 1861; and, for Governor Houston, the situation soon became even worse.
The secessionist legislature quickly passed laws which required that any Texan who held office, political appointment, military commission, or wanted to vote, must sign a loyalty pledge to the Confederacy. When Houston refused to sign the oath, the legislature declared the position of Governor “vacant” and, after thirty years of service, Houston was a private citizen.
On March 5th, newly inaugurated President Lincoln, through an emissary, offered assistance to Houston if he chose to form a separate opposition government in Texas. While he gave some consideration to Lincoln’s offer, Houston decided that he would not be the cause of increased divisions within his home state.
Before his death in 1863, Sam Houston contacted many who had stood by him in opposition to secession and wrote: “There comes a time (when) a man’s section is his country. I stand with mine. I was a conservative citizen of the United States. I am now a conservative citizen of the Southern Confederacy.” However, he could still not bring himself to sign the oath.
During the first two years of the Civil War, Texas thrived as a primary supplier of cotton, food crops, cattle, and horses to the rest of the South. Texas also provided over 60,000 men into the war (about 3,000 for the Union) and, tragically, over 21,000 did not come home. And, by late 1863, the Mississippi River and many gulf ports came under Union control, and Texas commerce gradually ground to a halt. As the war came to a close, the agricultural economy in the eastern part of the state was further decimated when the slaves were emancipated; and when the market for Texas cattle collapsed, the state’s entire economy went into a deep depression from which it would not recover for nearly twenty years.
During the War, and for several years thereafter, the two surviving political factions could not agree on even basic political or economic policies, so the state’s government was usually chaotic. Further, since one group hoped for greater autonomy for Texas (or even independence), and the other group wanted preservation of slavery and more control over Mexican territory, neither group ever achieved their very different objectives.
And, Houston’s worst scenario had been realized. He had said, “You may, after the sacrifice of countless millions in treasure and hundreds of thousands of lives…. win Southern Independence. But I doubt it. And what I fear is, they will overwhelm the South…. and Texas with it.”
So, after all was said and done, and despite being wrong several other times, Sam Houston’s most dire expectation, was right.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Robert E. Lee and Slavery (Article 37)
Robert Edward Lee cemented his place in American history for the difficult decision he made to resign from the U.S. Army as Civil War seemed eminent, and then for his military decisions which led to numerous successes on the battlefield against superior forces. However, as decisive as he was in those matters, he was always ambivalent toward slavery. Even the pillars of morality which his deeply held religious beliefs otherwise provided, could not rectify his personal conflicts about slavery. These uncertainties were evident years before the Civil War and he never reconciled these ambiguities until the end of War and after the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution which abolished slavery.
Finally, with slavery declared illegal and unconstitutional, Robert E. Lee, with his life-long reverence for law, no longer equivocated on the matter.
As an “officer and a gentleman” Robert E. Lee was highly regarded by political and military leaders in both the North and the South for his competence as an administrator and as a military tactician. He had distinguished himself during the Mexican War in 1846 and was called upon to lead the U.S. forces to end abolitionist John Brown’s occupation of the federal arsenal at Harper’s Ferry in 1859. In between he had served admirably throughout the country as a military administrator of major engineering projects, many of which were really federal public works programs such as building roads, bridges, canals, and ports.
On a personal level, most of Robert E. Lee’s acquaintances, North and South, considered him highly principled, likable, and empathetic, and their admiration is well documented. While from our vantage point 150 years later, Lee’s tolerance for slavery seems unconscionable; most historians recognize that his views were prevalent in his day, even throughout much of the North, and were actually somewhat enlightened for a Southern aristocrat.
As discontent spread across the south after the election of Abraham Lincoln in November 1860, Lee had some hope that his native state of Virginia would not secede from the United States. He wrote, “If Virginia stands by the Old Union, so will I. But if she secedes, I will follow. Though I do not believe in secession as a Constitutional right, nor that there is cause for revolution.” However, he had decided that, even if Virginia chose to remain in the Union, he should resign his commission as a Colonel in the U.S. Army rather than be called upon to lead a military force against other Southern states. On April 20, 1861, he wrote, “I have resigned my commission and, save in defense of my native state, with the sincere hope that my poor services may never be needed, I hope I may never be called on to draw my sword.” He said he wished to simply retire to his home in Virginia and not be sought out by either side in the coming conflict. However, whatever his original intent, powerful and persuasive friends convinced him to at least meet with leaders of the Confederate government and on April 23rd he agreed to join the Virginia Militia, and on May 14th, he accepted a Confederate commission.
His decisions to resign from the U.S. Army and to later join the Confederate Army had nothing whatsoever to do with his views on slavery, but rather it was his heritage as a Virginian which proved to be a stronger bond than the Union; and it hung over him like a cloak.
Over the next four years his reputation as a military strategist became legendary. He was confident in his military orders and quick to respond to changing situations. But, as decisive as he was on these matters, he was never so clear about the issue of slavery.
Lee had often expressed his disapproval of slavery and hoped that it could eventually be abolished; however, he never articulated any reasonable time-table. And, in 1858, when he had the opportunity to free slaves owned by his father-in-law, George Washington Custis, he delayed any action for five years.
Lee’s complex and conflicted thoughts about slavery were evident when he wrote that, “Slavery as an institution is a moral and political evil in any country” but he accepted its current reality and added, “How long their subjugation may be necessary is only known and ordered by a wise and Merciful Providence.” However, he decried efforts by the Northern politicians to interfere with “the domestic institutions of the South” (i.e. slavery) saying “Their object is both unlawful and foreign (against) this institution for which they are irresponsible and non-accountable.”
It is interesting to note that Robert E. Lee was deeply religious and his beliefs and practices, and those of many other Southerners, accommodated slavery. For 200 years their religious leaders had proclaimed, among other justifications, that the Negro race was outcast from other biblical tribes (Old Testament), and that Jesus recognized the relationship of master-to-slave and never condemned slave-holding (New Testament). These doctrines led to Lee’s assertion that “Merciful Providence” would determine how much longer the slaves “subjugation” would be necessary. He once said “The Blacks are immeasurably better off here than in Africa, morally, physically and socially… and their emancipation will sooner result from the mild and melting influences of Christianity…which I hope will prepare and lead them to better things.”
Despite these ambiguities, Lee certainly benefited from the services of slaves, but not through direct participation in the slave trade or even personal management of slaves. His aunt sent a slave to accompany Robert for his first military assignment after he received his commission from West Point in 1829. When Robert’s mother Mary Lee died, she left several slaves to each of her sons. While the four female slaves Robert inherited never served in his household, he did permit his brother to manage and “let” those slaves for which Robert probably received a portion of the proceeds. On the other hand, researchers have found no record of any slave being purchased by Robert or on his behalf, and in 1846 he transferred (not sold) the last of the slaves he had inherited to his father-in-law George Custis; perhaps as compensation for permitting Lee’s family to reside in Custis homes. After that, he probably never owned another slave; although, his wife’s family did own slaves at various Custis plantations; including Arlington which, at one time, had over 250 slaves. None, however, were owned by Robert E. Lee.
Some modern writers have declared that he freed the last of his slaves in 1862, but they misunderstood Lee’s role in that case. Lee was acting as the executor of his father-in-law’s estate which contained the provision that all slaves owned by Mr. Custis upon his death were to be freed in an orderly fashion at such time the estate was in solid financial condition, but in any case freed within five years of his death. After Mr. Custis died in 1857, Lee, acting as the executor, determined that earlier mismanagement and neglect of the plantations by George Custis and other Custis relatives had caused a drastic decline in crop production in the few prior years; therefore, the estate was not in “solid financial condition” as stipulated in the will. Lee intended, as executor, to utilize the “five-year” window to improve the status of the estate, and to accomplish that, he did not readily free the affected slaves. The Civil War had not yet started when Lee assumed the role as executor and for two years between 1858-1860, his plans were on track to revitalize the plantations and the value of the Custis estates steadily increased. Some critics of Lee suggest that he did not release the Custis slaves earlier because he would have financially benefited. Most respected Lee biographers, however, believe Lee was less interested in personal gain than in expressly following his fiduciary responsibilities as executor.
On December 29, 1862, Lee completed his assignment as executor and officially released the last of the Custis slaves on the five-year time-line; ironically, two days before the Emancipation Proclamation became effective. However, during the Civil War, the various Custis properties were ravaged and most of the property at Arlington, which was the crown jewel of the plantations, was confiscated by the Union Army and became Arlington National Cemetery.
So, in the end, Robert E. Lee’s efforts to revive the Custis holdings were in vain. As it was, the slaves had lost five years of potential freedom and the Custis family never regained their wealth.
After the Civil War ended there were those in the north who wanted Lee tried for crimes against the Federal government and they invented rumors about his mistreatment of slaves to press their point; unfortunately, some of those fabrications still surface today. However, the military and congressional inquiries at the time found no credible evidence that would impugn Lee’s character (other than involvement with slavery) and the new President, Andrew Johnson, refused to support any charges against Lee.
Robert E. Lee became the President of Washington College (later renamed Washington and Lee) for a nominal income; however, since he and his wife had lost all of their wealth in the War, including her interest in her family’s estate at Arlington, their financial situation was bleak for the rest of their lives. A few of the former Custis slaves continued to live near the Lees and served the General’s family, primarily to help care for Mrs. Lee who suffered from severe and crippling arthritis. But, by then, these freed people were there by choice.
In 1856, five years before the Civil War began, Lee’s ambiguity was evidenced by his words in a letter to a friend, in which he lamented the south’s dependence on slavery, and concluded with this profound statement, which also proved tragically prophetic; “This institution can only be changed by them (Northerners) through the agency of a Civil and Servile War.”
And, he was right!
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Uncle Tom’s War (Article 36)
At about 10PM, Harriett put down her pen. She was exhausted, had done her best, and simply had no words left about these people who now meant so much to her. She later recalled her thoughts that evening. Would her words about Tom persuade the readers to understand the deep faith by which he lived? She wondered if she had done justice to Eliza; did she adequately describe her courage and resolve? Did she convey the compassionate spirit of Eva? Would Simon be seen for the pure evil he represented? She also wondered whether readers, if there would be any readers, would find her themes of redemption, epiphany, faith, and courage applicable in their own lives; and perhaps move some to also oppose slavery.
She was unsure. She said later, “I felt that I had not done enough.”
But she could do no more. Her book was written under the working title “The Man That Was a Thing” and she remembered lamenting, “After all of these words, why can not a better title come to me?” When she awoke the next morning, she went quickly to the table where the five hundred hand-written pages were neatly stacked, and penned the title that had come to her during the night. She wrote:
“Uncle Tom’s Cabin” and then added, “Life among the Lowly.”
She need not have worried. The National Era, a periodical that often promoted abolition, agreed to publish her novel, in serial form, over a forty-week period, beginning in June 1851. With an average circulation of 10,000, she thought at least a few of the subscribers would be interested in Tom’s story.
Then the flood-gates opened. Mrs. Beecher’s story captured a new audience for the magazine. The National Era became oversubscribed for the first week and had to print another 5,000 copies. The next week’s edition, which included the second episode of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” required several printings and sold over 20,000 copies. This rapid acceptance is remarkable as it occurred in an era when “word of mouth” meant just that; with no radio, television or social media to help spread the word about the serialized story.
But not everyone was impressed. One literary critic wrote, “Pay no mind, it is only a book written by a woman.” And, another wrote, “The book is nothing but a Sunday School fiction.”
But the public did “pay a mind” and by the third week, the circulation of The National Era surged to the highest total of any weekly publication in the country, at nearly 50,000 copies.
A few months later, the publisher issued the entire manuscript in a new book with seven illustrations and then, within months, issued a “deluxe” edition with one hundred illustrations. Several more editions were then printed over the next few years as the book reached a total of over 400,000 copies in print, which made “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” one of the best-selling American novels of the 19th century. Historians believe at least one million people read the story before the Civil War began.
Mrs. Stowe’s depiction of the lives affected by slavery emotionally touched many people of the northern states; but was seen as a dagger in the side by many in the south. Abolitionists, of course, lauded the book but they were a small minority so it was the masses in the North, who had never given much thought to slavery, who were buying the periodical and the books. But in most Southern regions people were outraged, deeming the book an untruthful and inflammatory characterization of slavery; which was still legal under the Constitution. Several books soon emerged which painted a more benevolent portrait of slavery, including “Aunt Phyllis’s Cabin” by Mary Henderson, a well-known Southern author. In these counter-novels, slaves were depicted as generally unsuited to function as freemen, grateful for their care, happy in their circumstances, and treated well by their owners to whom the slaves were loyal.
The national debate over this little book began. So, what was the plot of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” that attracted, or repelled, so many readers?
Tom had been born a slave, was married with two children, and was an excellent carriage driver and horse handler. Arthur Shelby, Tom’s owner, assured that Tom learned to read and encouraged Tom’s Christian faith to the point that Tom became a spiritual leader to other slaves. Mr. Shelby, while clearly a master to Tom and to other slaves, including Mrs. Shelby’s house servant, Eliza, treated his slaves “far better than most” who were simply chattel property to the slave-owners. Mr. Shelby trusted Tom, who was often permitted to travel alone to obtain supplies or deliver goods; and even carried funds to conduct financial transactions. However, when Mr. Shelby could not meet overwhelming debts, he was forced to sell most of his slaves, including Tom and Harry who was Eliza’s young son. Before the slaves could be delivered to a slave trader, Eliza took Harry and made a harrowing, but eventually successful, escape. Tom, however, was sold to the slave trader and separated from his wife and children, never to see them again. During the steamboat passage to a slave auction, Tom saved a young White girl, Eva, from drowning and was bought by Eva’s father. Eva was a devout Christian who appreciated Tom’s sincere faith, and she and “Uncle Tom” become very close. After several years, recognizing Tom’s devotion to Eva, his honesty and hard work, Eva’s father pledged to free Tom. But Eva’s mother, with more interest in Tom’s value than in her husband’s promise, quickly sold Tom when her husband died. Tom’s new owner was Simon Legree, a malevolent plantation owner who was determined to “break” Tom. While enslaved to Legree, and enduring harsh treatment over several years, Tom encountered other mistreated slaves, one of whom kills her newborn rather that see the child become a slave. Scornful of Tom’s faith and angry that Tom would not disclose the route taken by a run-away slave, Legree ordered two overseers to beat Tom. In the meantime, the son of Arthur Shelby, Tom’s original owner whose family had financially recovered, was searching for Tom intent upon buying his freedom. However, when the son arrived at Legree’s plantation, he was one day too late as Tom had died from the beating.
The human tragedy Mrs. Stowe describes is palpable.
One person who purchased the book was a Springfield, Illinois lawyer, Abraham Lincoln. He was just emerging from a self-imposed hiatus from politics after his one term as a U.S. Congressman and was speaking and writing against the attempts in Congress to further accommodate slavery. Both Lincoln and Mrs. Stowe, who did know one another, were concerned that Congressional compromises would lead to the expansion of slavery to other states and could entrench the “peculiar institution” in the United States for generations to come.
That concern was her motivation to write her book, and his to re-enter politics.
Ten years later, Harriett Beecher Stowe met with President Abraham Lincoln at the White House. It was reported that Lincoln said as he approached her, “So this is the little lady who wrote the book that caused this great war,” which certainly sounds like something Lincoln might say. However, neither he nor Mrs. Stowe ever confirmed that remark but she did write a letter that evening in which she said “Mr. Lincoln was so inviting and entertaining to us.”
Who was this woman who put pen to paper and created these memorable characters?
Harriett Beecher Stowe grew up in Connecticut in a family of dedicated abolitionists. Her older brother, Henry Ward Beecher, was a Presbyterian minister who led a large New York congregation which denounced slavery as “against God’s will” and sponsored several abolitionist societies. In 1833, Harriett visited a family friend in Kentucky and, for the first time, witnessed the impact of slavery on real individuals; not just as a theological or philosophical discussion. She was appalled at the living conditions prevalent in the slave quarters; and, after she attended a slave auction, she said that she was “heartbroken at the awful scenes of God’s creatures treated so.” And, from that day on, her life was changed.
Harriett and her husband, Calvin Stowe, began to support the “underground railroad” which facilitated the northern migration of escaped slaves; and they sometimes harbored fugitive slaves in their home. In 1848, Harriett and Calvin moved to Maine where he taught at Bowdoin College and she began writing her novel.
Her book exposed “man’s inhumanity to man” in a story with characters who were each so craftily described by the author that they seemed real to the reader (well, at least to most readers). There had been numerous earlier books which had opposed slavery as a theme, but most were simply a recitation of generalizations. Mrs. Stowe’s characters were, above all else, human beings; whether they were slaves, slave-holders, free Negroes, abolitionists, or White citizens to whom slavery was “other people’s” problem.
However, she rapidly lost control over the characters she had created. In 1852, the copyright laws were minimal and many minstrel shows were titled with some variation of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” but parodied Mrs. Stowe’s original characters. These productions were never sanctioned by her; however, some of the outlandish scenes, with white actors in blackface behaving in a frivolous manner, became part of the Uncle Tom story to many Americans. Mrs. Stowe relentlessly criticized these “fake” productions, but her protests had little impact.
After the Civil War and the ratification of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments to the Constitution, which declared slavery illegal and “guaranteed” civil rights, the influence of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” on society began to wane. In the north, those who had opposed slavery moved on to other issues. In much of the south, former slave owners became land-lords to freed slaves who continued to work for a meager existence, and “Jim Crow” laws in the south assured the Negroes, while no longer slaves, were largely left in poverty, uneducated, and without basic rights. The term “Jim Crow” came from a character in “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” who was forced to dance whenever commanded by his owner; and that character was often outlandishly portrayed in the minstrel shows. “Jim Crow” soon became another euphemism for Negroes and then, after reconstruction, was forever synonymous with restrictive laws. Mrs. Stowe was understandably appalled at this miss-appropriation of one of her characters.
By about 1890, the book began to disappear from High School and University reading lists, even in the Northern states, as fewer academics gave any attention the old battle to end slavery, and many considered “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” to be melodramatic, without much literary merit.
There was a minor revival of interest in the 1960s as the push for civil rights began but, unfortunately, the term “Uncle Tom” became an epithet for many African-Americans who denounced the book and its title character as demeaning and stereotypical.
That was certainly not Mrs. Stowe’s intent.
She wrote from the mindset and experiences of the American population over one hundred years earlier, when slavery was still legal under the U.S. Constitution, and those who helped slaves escape were subject to prosecution in every state! At that time, Mrs. Stowe lived among many neighbors who did not share her abolitionist views; but she stayed the course.
It seems unfair that Mrs. Stowe, and her book, should be criticized without regard to the times in which she lived and the “high-jacking” of her story by minstrel shows which ridiculed her characters. Uncle Tom was, to her, the epitome of her own Christian faith. Her description of Tom forgiving his worst tormentors, and their epiphany as they repudiated their past harsh treatment of slaves, was intended to show Tom’s power, not his weakness. She considered him a “noble hero” and she absolutely believed that “love your enemies and forgive them for they know not what they do” were essential guides to his righteous creed (and hers).
We need to remember that she moved hundreds of thousands of people to first begin to reflect on the evil of slavery, and then to fight to abolish it. In her time, and in her place, her book was remarkably effective.
So, did her little book “start this great war?” Certainly not by itself, but it was one of many factors, including economic disparity, which sharpened the distinctions between north and south; and eventually resulted in the Civil War and the eradication of slavery.
Harriett Beecher Stowe deserves our appreciation for fighting the good fight.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Reflections on Washington and Lincoln (Article 35)
Most historians agree that these two men were our greatest Presidents based upon their positive impact on the nation’s development.
It may be useful to compare their similarities and their differences.
First, a look at their similarities.
1. Both were taller than average……………
Well, that’s about it. Actually, these two men were strikingly different and among their many differences were:
1. Washington was well educated, Lincoln was not.
2. Lincoln had a great sense of humor, Washington did not.
3. Washington had a distinguished military background, Lincoln did not.
4. Lincoln was an enthusiastic public speaker, Washington was not (in fact, he was awful)
5. Washington believed slavery was “an unfortunate, but necessary condition”, Lincoln did not. (Washington did free some slaves for “long and faithful service” and freed others as a condition of his will upon his death)
6. Lincoln was a prolific writer, Washington was not.
7. Washington was wealthy, Lincoln was not.
8. Lincoln actively sought the Presidency, Washington did not.
9. Washington enjoyed broad national support (North and South), Lincoln did not. (In fact, Washington is the only President to ever receive 100% of the Electoral votes.)
10. Lincoln enjoyed the give and take of politics, Washington did not (He even hoped to ban political parties).
But, they did share an important personal attribute; they were both honorable men and honest to their core.
And, they shared one driving vision for their country; that the various states must be united by a strong Constitution under which the states would yield authority to the Federal government.
Washington said that the original “Articles of Confederation” was a document which was only a “rope of sand” and that the new nation would fail without the ratification of the proposed Constitution. He believed that failure to find a common Constitution would result in regional conflict and invite foreign opportunism. Seventy five years later, Lincoln agreed saying; “The Country cannot stand divided. It would be the worst of Europe, with state against state and fertile ground for foreign intervention.”
The new Constitution, which replaced the Articles of Confederation as the country’s guiding principle, established a strong central government and the office of President as the chief executive. But, while the framers of the Constitution CREATED the office of President, George Washington DEFINED it, and Abraham Lincoln PRESERVED it.
Lincoln revered George Washington. And Lincoln, when facing a critical decision, would often stand before one of the several paintings of Washington which adorned the White House walls. His favorite was the Gilbert Stuart painting of a standing Washington, dressed in civilian clothes, which was the one rescued by Dolly Madison just before the British burned the White House in 1814.
As a young man, Lincoln had read the book, “The life of Washington,” several times; and read other biographies of the first President whenever he had the chance.
In 1848, as a young congressman, Lincoln even evoked Washington to admonish then President James Polk. Lincoln believed Polk had lied to the American People and to Congress about the cause for invading Mexico in 1846 when Polk charged that, “Mexico had spilt American blood on American soil.”
Lincoln rose on the on the house floor and said: “Let President Polk answer my interrogatories. Let him answer with facts. Let him remember that he sits where Washington sat and let him answer as Washington would answer, with no evasion and no equivocation.”
So, what else did Lincoln Learn from his study of George Washington? What examples did Washington establish that guided Lincoln as President?
Lincoln said that he admired Washington’s:
1. Protocol that the Presidency was to be “approachable” and his refusal to be addressed as “Your Excellency”. (Under Washington, the term “Mr. President” became common.)
2. Absolute honesty.
3. Resolve in his military objectives, even after setbacks.
4. Advice to future Presidents to “Avoid foreign entanglements.”
5. Decision to only serve two terms. (Although Washington would have easily been elected to a third term if he wished.)
While Lincoln would not get the chance to even complete his second term, he had already announced that he would return to Springfield when the term was over. At the time, while there was no legal limitation against a third Presidential term, Lincoln wanted to follow Washington’s example.
As noted earlier, one of the significant differences between these great men was their sense of humor.
Lincoln took real joy in humor of all types, whether he was telling the story or listening to others. Lincoln would slap his knees, laugh out loud, and laugh long; even if he were telling the story or hearing one he had heard before. On the other hand, while George Washington appreciated humorous anecdotes, his response was always measured, and a slight smile might be all that the story teller saw.
Of course, Lincoln liked to tell “yarns”, craftily woven tall tales for which he might have several variations. He also used humorous stories to make a point more clear. But Lincoln was also a quick wit when a circumstance was presented.
Once Lincoln was with a bunch of Lawyers gathered around a fireplace on a very cold night. “Colder than Hell”, said Lincoln. One of the others, expecting some humorous answer from “Abe” said, “Lincoln, have you been to hell?” Lincoln laughed and said, “Sure have, it’s a lot like here…. all the lawyers are closest to the fire.”
And another time, when General McClellan said he was not ready to advance his troops yet, Lincoln wrote, “General, if you are not going to use your Army, may I borrow it for a while.”
Once, Lincoln and Steven A. Douglas, who had opposed each other over many years in legal cases and in political races, were staying at the same boarding house. Over supper Lincoln showed the group a pocket watch and said, “I just bought this fine watch for $20 dollars”. Douglas then pulled out an even finer watch, smiled and said, “Well, Lincoln, I just bought this beautiful watch for $ 40 dollars.” They all laughed, including Abe, at Douglas’s “one-upmanship.”
Then, in an interesting coincidence, the next morning Lincoln discovered that his watch had been stolen from his room during the night; and he placed this ad in the local paper. “To the thief who stole my watch worth $20 dollars. If you will return it to me, I will tell you where you can steal one worth twice as much. A. Lincoln.”
On the other hand, there is little record of George Washington leading a humorous exchange and none of him actually telling a joke. But, he may have occasionally tried. The following two anecdotes about Washington’s humor cannot be verified but were mentioned by others who were recalling the great General’s life.
During the Revolutionary War a militia sentry had fallen asleep on guard duty, a transgression punishable by execution. Washington called several of his senior officers together to decide the man’s fate. Washington began by saying the British Army did not have this problem. An officer asked, “General, do not British soldiers ever fall asleep on guard duty?” To which Washington replied, “They did, but the soldiers were so well disciplined that when he awoke, the soldier would execute himself.” The writer said that Washington seemed to enjoy the remark but the other officers were uncomfortable at the comment during such a solemn discussion. By the way, as the story was told, the soldier’s life was spared.
George Washington was a big man, and had an unusually large posterior. Of course, people noticed, but no one dared mention it. Once, when the army was preparing to cross the Delaware River, Washington was assigned a seat in one of the small row boats. The Colonel in charge of assigning space made the humorous comment to another officer that if Washington would stand, two men could sit in his place. But, he did not know that General Washington was standing right behind him! He next heard Washington say, “That may be Colonel, but perhaps you could swim so I could sit, and we would still have room for the extra man.” The Colonel must have been mortified.
Humor aside, and despite their other differences, the United States of America was fortunate to have had these two men available, and willing to serve, at critical times in our nation’s history.
Washington became the first President; he had no instruction manual and, through his example, established precedents for the office that have stood for over 200 years. Lincoln took his oath as the sixteenth President as a sacred duty to preserve the Constitution, the Union, and the office both he and Washington held.
We should remember both of them, and be grateful for their service.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Presidents’ Day? (Article 34)
What is Presidents’ Day? Is it a time to reflect on the contributions of only one President (if so it would be President’s Day)? Or, perhaps it is to honor two or more Presidents, or even all the men elected to the nation’s highest office. Or is it just another federal Monday holiday that provides most of us with a three day weekend? For many Americans, the answer is likely to be “a Monday holiday.”
But, that was not always the case.
George Washington’s birth date, February 22, had been recognized as a special day in many places from the early 1800s. The practice became wide-spread in communities and states throughout the United States upon the centennial of his birth in 1832; and continued unabated for nearly 150 years. In 1885, it became a federal holiday, primarily offering a day off to government workers, but the rest of the country embraced the new law and even more “Washington’s Day” celebrations were held, which often resembled Fourth of July patriotic events. And, Washington had the day to himself.
In many states, but certainly not all, Abraham Lincoln’s birth date of February 12 was also celebrated. Soon after Lincoln’s death in 1865, Illinois declared April 15th as a “Memorial Day” but the practice was replaced a few years later by recognizing his birthday and over the next few years, other states followed. Even if workers did not get a paid holiday, schools recognized the great American with special programs and lesson plans dedicated to Lincoln’s life story. For the next 100 years, Lincoln had February 12 all to himself.
So our first and sixteenth Presidents, who most historians recognize as the two leaders who had the most impact on our developing nation, had their own special day.
Until 1971!
In 1970 Congress passed the Uniform Monday Holiday Act, with the support of the nation’s largest labor unions and major business interests, to create a pattern of three day weekends. In the initial bill, sponsors considered designating the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th Monday in February as “Washington’s Day”, but eventually decided on the third Monday (which always falls between the 15th and 21st) to approximate the real date of Washington’s birth, which was the 22nd. Almost immediately a group of congressmen proposed that the “special day” be renamed as Washington-Lincoln Day, which gained substantial support. Unsurprisingly, the Illinois delegation worked hard for this change, but could never get enough votes for the amendment to pass. One reason for the failure was that the majority of each delegation from most Southern states, as well as several northern congressmen, voted against including Abraham Lincoln’s name in the holiday designation. George Washington was highly regarded as a national hero throughout the country, however, that was not so for Abraham Lincoln. In 1970 the sentiments still ran deep in the old South against Lincoln and the Civil War, and the vote for the new February Monday holiday was proof. Because Lincoln’s name did not even appear on the Presidential Electoral ballot in nine southern states in 1860 or in thirteen states in 1864, many Southerners did not consider him to have been “their” President. Therefore, in 1970, most of the congressmen from that region voted to not include Lincoln in the special day. It is interesting to note that a certain segment of the southern population still harbors those resentments today.
So, if the new holiday would not be referred to as Washington-Lincoln Day, what would it be called? Since the original bill was not amended, the official Congressional records still referred to “Washington’s Birthday” and President Nixon signed the bill designating it as such.
So officially, we should all refer to Washington’s Day, at least according to Congress.
But, other “popular forces” had not spoken!
Soon, these ‘popular forces” around the United States began a movement; which, in this case, the term “popular forces” refers to retail store owners and their shoppers! Merchants began to advertise “President’s Day Sales” knowing that their shoppers now had an extra day to visit the stores; and economists and politicians, noticed that retail sales began to boom in what had historically been a slow month. Soon individual states began to issue proclamations calling it President’s Day and even designated other Presidents, including frequently Abraham Lincoln, in the honor. Illinois, for example, resolved that it would be called Washington-Lincoln Day, but the phrase never really caught on with the public; even in the state where Lincoln began his political career and which is generally considered Lincoln’s home state.
But, the official United States Congressional calendar still refers to the third Monday in February as Washington’s Birthday.
Since he was a modest man when it came to personal recognition, I don’t think Abraham Lincoln would have spent one minute promoting the idea of a holiday in his honor. However, he revered the first President and the Lincoln family always participated in celebrations on the birthdate of George Washington.
So, while we all add to the February retail sales numbers and the national GDP over this long weekend, perhaps we can take a bit of time as a teaching moment. Let us be reminded that both George Washington and Abraham Lincoln gave so much of themselves to this country that they each deserve our recognition and appreciation. Even if for just one day.
And, then mention that to a few people, especially youngsters.
It is really important.
Finally, contrary to what some dissatisfied Americans claim, the future MLK holiday, which would eventually be set for a Monday in January, had nothing to do with the 1971 Federal Holiday law which resulted in the disappearance of special days for Washington and Lincoln. In fact, President Reagan signed the MLK holiday bill in 1983 as a stand-alone law, and it was not technically even part of the Uniform Monday Holiday Act. So, no one should blame the organizers of the MLK Day for the missing Washington’s Day or Lincoln’s Day. It just seems that the term Presidents’ Day, over time, simply became the preferable term for the holiday on the third Monday in February.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
More than a Museum (Article 33)
Most of us have toured museums. We have stood before famous paintings or valuable artifacts, with our arms crossed over our chests or perhaps behind our backs; and admired the exhibits. We likely whispered to our companions as we strolled past numerous interesting displays and then picked up the pace when an area was not so captivating.
However, as a sign at the Metropolitan Museum of Art declares, “There are museums and then there are Museums!” The individuals, whose reflections follow, had all recently visited the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois. As we compared our experiences we realized that each of us had seen something personal; however, we had been affected by different sections.
But, we all agreed; this is a Museum!
One person noted that he was touched by the changes in President Lincoln as the war took its toll, another recalled the lilting music that accompanied each display, and one could not forget the display of a slave auction. One lady said that the exhibits of the Lincoln funeral processions brought back childhood memories of a much later assassination. Another woman said she was moved by the Mary Todd Lincoln gallery, and a veteran was struck by the display of letters from young men in the Civil War to their families. A mother was surprised that, for the first time, she and her young son wanted to linger in the same places. And one Southerner said that it changed his perception of Lincoln.
All spoke of a sense of reverence and awe.
The Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum is comprised of two adjacent but distinctly different buildings. While the extensive Library is of most interest to historians, researchers, and authors, the Museum is for everyone. The Library is a gift to academia; but the Museum is a gift to all of the people.
The Museum is unique in that it does not just honor the life and accomplishments of one man, as is common with other Presidential Libraries. Nor does it offer only one side of a horrific Civil War. Instead, it showcases an entire era and the people who lived through the most turbulent time in our country’s history; northerner and southerner, slave-owner and slave, merchant and farmer, and the soldiers who wore Union blue and Confederate gray.
Lincoln’s boyhood, early career, and Presidential years are depicted in a series of life sized dioramas that are in amazing detail; however, the museum is not just about Lincoln. It brings the viewer in touch with literally hundreds of people as the exhibits illustrate the first 65 years of the 19th Century. The causes and effects of the Civil War are demonstrated, not just through an academic history recitation, but through the recollections of the individuals who lived in those times. Every display is accompanied by period music, paintings, photographs, newspaper headlines, and commentary by soldiers, farmers, merchants, and slaves. While some commentary is by the societal and political elites of the day, most are the reflections of common men and women who were often trying to describe the indescribable.
It is almost impossible for any visitor to come away from the Museum without a greater appreciation for these people; especially for those who fought on both sides of the Civil War (or War of Northern Aggression as some Southerners still prefer).
The Museum strikes a balance between the motivations of Lincoln and those of the Southern leaders, and also between the Union and Confederate causes.
Lincoln is accurately depicted, from his innate intelligence, his wit, and especially his dedication to his primary cause as President, the preservation of the Union. However, the museum gives an honest assessment of this complex man, with his self-doubts and flaws and is not simply a crowning of “Saint Abraham.”
Most visitors recalled a personal connection they felt as they toured the various displays and many found themselves drawn and re-drawn to a certain area.
One said that he found himself looking at four photographs of Abraham Lincoln which were arranged on a wall in progression by date; 1861, 1863, 1864 and 1865. The toll on the President was striking and the visitor began to think of how Lincoln was worn down by the enormity of the ongoing Civil War. He said he kept returning to those four photographs and he had to wipe away tears; which, by the way, he hoped no one had noticed.
Another said she began to listen to the exquisite companionship provided by the music which surrounded several hundred images of young soldiers, some smiling, some terribly wounded, and some dead; and she said the effect was just “so sad but somehow beautiful.” She purchased the CD of the music and said that when she listens now, the same emotions re-occur.
A man told of not being able to leave the life sized (and very life-like) diorama of a Negro family being torn apart at a slave auction; the anguish on the father’s face as he is pulled away, the abject horror on the face of his wife, and the ten year old boy, crying, reaching out to his father, without yet realizing his totality of his loss. The visitor returned several times, each time noticing more details in the heartbreaking scene, and the enormity of the tragedy sank in. The display captured the pain of nearly four million men, women and children who, at the start of the Civil War were still only “property”; to be bought and sold by another human being.
Then there were the images of the Lincoln funeral train and its long slow route through the Northern states to his home in Springfield; which one visitor compared to the public outpouring after President Kennedy’s assassination and remembered how she felt. Now, for the first time, she understood the sadness of so many at the death of Abraham Lincoln. To her, it became a personal experience, not just a history lesson.
One lady wrote that at first she could not wait to see the collection of exquisite formal gowns displayed on mannequins of Mary Todd Lincoln. The visitor was aware of Mrs. Lincoln’s fascination with intricate beading and the inclusion of several colors, a hallmark of Elizabeth Keckley, her favorite seamstress who was a former slave. Then, after admiring the handiwork, she began to read the accompanying text and for the first time realized the awful sadness that surrounded Mary; the gowns could give the allusion of gaiety, but they masked the truth. One gown in particular was worn by Mrs. Lincoln to a White House Gala, while her nine year old son, Willie, was sick upstairs in his bed. Willie died a few days later and Mary never forgave herself. Further, her only friend in Washington was Mrs. Keckley, who nursed her through a long grieving period. The visitor noted that she had only come to the exhibit to see Mary’s clothing, but was grateful that she was now able to better understand the woman to whom history has not been kind.
Another visitor, a veteran of the Vietnam War, stood for a long time before the display of letters from young soldiers (both Union and Confederate) and noted the similarities between those letters and the ones he had written to his family and the letters his own father had sent home during the Second World War. He wrote, “These bring back my own memories. It seems war is always the same for the soldier.”
A young mother, who had made it a point over the years to take her children to major museums and exhibits, on this day, took her ten year old son to the Lincoln Museum. She recalled that both she and her son found themselves struck by the same exhibits. She said it was the first time that they shared a common reaction as most museum excursions became a tug of war, with each wanting to spend time at different areas. Then she added, “But, not here, not at this place.”
Finally, there was an elderly gentleman from South Carolina who had reluctantly visited with his middle aged son. He had spent a lifetime believing, and instilling in his children, that Lincoln had deliberately destroyed southern culture. He now said “I don’t know if I had an epiphany or I have just mellowed, but I found myself changing my opinion. The Slave auction display and letters touched something within me. I just didn’t get it before. I apologized to my son.”
The many scenes affected these visitors in different ways, but each also recalled sections that were uplifting and others that were educational. And of course, some that were humorous; after all it features “Abe” who was a great storyteller.
All of us agreed that we would visit again. I know I will.
And, I sincerely hope you do too.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
The Letter of Elisha Rhodes (Article 32)
On May 1, 1861, 19 year old Elisha Hunt Rhodes asked his widowed mother’s permission to join the Rhode Island Volunteers, a local Militia that was preparing to answer President Lincoln’s call to counter the recent “Southern Rebellion.” She begged him to stay home and Elisha, the family’s primary breadwinner, would not go without her permission. He wrote; “Sunday was a sorrowful one at our home. My mother went about with tears in her eyes while I felt disappointment that I could not express, and therefore nursed my sorrow in silence.” As he recalled later, his mother came into his room that evening and said, “My son, other mothers are called to make this sacrifice, why should not I.” The next day Elisha left home, but with a promise to his mother to write often.
And, for the next four years, he did just that; writing almost daily either to his mother, his sister, his friends, or in a journal.
Fortunately for future generations, Elisha’s family preserved his journal and letters and the book “All for the Union” was published in 1985.
Elisha had never been far from Pawtuxet, Rhode Island and only rarely fired a musket. He wrote that he wanted to be one of the 75,000 volunteers from 18 states to join together in “Abraham Lincoln’s great cause to restore the dream of George Washington and re-unite the country.”
The boys of Pawtuxet and the surrounding small towns were “new to soldiering” but immediately began marching drills and Elisha wrote, “I soon thought myself quite a soldier. I was elected First Sergeant, much to my surprise. Just what a First Sergeant’s duties might be, I have no idea.” Two weeks later he wrote, “We are off to Washington with mixed feelings of excitement, joy and sorrow.”
His Rhode Island volunteer unit was assigned to a regular U.S. Army Brigade when they arrived in the Capital and Elisha became a Private, a role in which he felt comfortable as “decisions and orders come from others” and he seemed to enjoy the drudgery of daily training. He was quickly promoted to Corporal, “I believe because I do not complain as much.”
“July 11. President Lincoln visited our camp. I like the looks of him.” And, on July 15th, Elisha wrote: “It begins to look warlike and we shall probably have a chance to pay our southern brethren a visit upon the sacred soil of Virginia very soon. Well, I hope we shall be successful and give the rebels a good pounding.”
The place Elisha was headed was called Manassas by Virginians and Bull Run by Union strategists. On July 19, Elisha first learned what war was really like.
“We were not at first in the battle. But it soon came to us. We were saluted by a volley of musketry which went over our heads. My first sensation was the whir of the bullets.” Then the bullets began to find their mark and the 2nd Rhode Island lost their Captain, and boys on either side of Elisha were struck. The troops, including Elisha, began to fall back and soon the main Union force was in full and disorganized retreat. He later recalled, “I struggled on, clinging to my gun and cartridge box. Many times I sat down and determined to go no further and willing to die to end my misery, but would go on. At daylight we could see the spires of Washington. The loss of the regiment in this disastrous affair was 93.”
The Union had not pounded the rebels as Elisha hoped and the rout of the Northern army quickly became known as “the great skedaddle.”
“July 24. I am certain that I have killed rebels, but I do not rejoice except that I still live”.
“Oct 16 (1861). We have lost so many good men. I trust that I am prepared to do my duty unto death if it is required”.
Over the next six months, The Union army consolidated forces around Washington. President Lincoln called for more troops, military training intensified, and a spring offensive against the South was planned. Union forces grew to 270,000 men who were anxious to “get on with it” as Elisha wrote on January 31, 1862.
“Mud, mud, mud. If I was the owner of this town I would sell it cheap. Will the mud never dry up so this army can move. I want to see service and I want the war over so that I can go home.”
In March Elisha was again promoted to Sergeant Major, “My elevation comes more as a result of exposure to war and remaining alive than to any military prowess.”
Beginning in April, 1862, Elisha became part of what was known as General George McClellan’s peninsula campaign, a long slow slog which was intended to eventually lead the Union Army to the Confederate Capital in Richmond, Virginia. They never made it. The Southern forces, which were greatly outnumbered, engaged in a tactical retreat that featured numerous quick assaults which devastated the Union troops they encountered. At Williamsburg, Elisha found himself in his second battle. Although considered a Union victory, Elisha wrote, “The field presented a horrible appearance, and in one spot I counted sixty dead bodies. But I thank God for this victory and may we have many more and so end this war.”
On May 20th, Elisha noted, “Richmond is just nine miles off. The Negroes are delighted to see us but the Whites look as if they would like to kill us.” Then on May 24th, he wrote, “We can see the spires of the churches in Richmond.”
Richmond was close and the troops knew it. Elisha wrote, “We can see the end, and we are ready.” But, General McClellan balked. Although he had more troops than his opponents, he continued to insist to President Lincoln that he was outnumbered and he refused to advance. His Brigade commanders began to call McClellan “the Virginia creeper” and Elisha noted, “We are not going to Richmond, I do not know why?”
Elisha Rhodes was always modest as he noted his advancement in the ranks. He was certainly a capable leader and was promoted again on July 24, 1862 to Second Lieutenant. “I am an officer, how I do not know. But I will do my duty to my leaders and my men.” And later, “It seems right that officers should rise through the ranks, for only such can sympathize with the private soldiers.”
In early September, Elisha’s unit did finally move, not toward Richmond, but to a place called Antietam Creek along with 95,000 other northern troops. They could hear the Confederates less than a mile away moving into positions. On the morning of September 17th, the fighting quickly became fierce. In one small section of the battle, Elisha found himself in a vast cornfield with bullets “sweeping the cornstalks and men dropping where they had moments before stood. I have never in my soldier’s life seen such a sight. The dead and wounded covered the ground.”
From his small vantage point, Elisha could not know that on that day, more Americans lost their lives than combined in the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Indian Wars, and the Mexican War. And, to put the losses in perspective for our generations, twice as many men died that day than on D-Day in 1944. Antietam was, however, considered a victory for the Union, and gave President Lincoln the confidence to announce the Emancipation Proclamation.
Elisha’s next battle was at Fredericksburg, Virginia on December 11 when he wrote; “It was cold and there were no fires, we looked forward to the march. The air was filled with shot and shell flying over our heads but it was our boys firing into Fredericksburg. The rebels did not often reply but would at times land a shot into our side.” However, Elisha and his Generals were unaware that the Confederates let them into Fredericksburg and waited with superior positions on the hills outside of town. Fortunately for Elisha, his unit was not one of those ordered by General Burnside to take those hills. Nine thousand Union men were cut down by the Southern forces. The Confederate losses were about 5,000, however, many of those were not casualties but farm boys who deserted to go home for Christmas; most, but not all, came back.
Three weeks later, Elisha Rhodes wrote: “December 31. Well the year 1862 is drawing to a close. As I look back I am bewildered when I think of the hundreds of miles I have tramped, the thousands of dead and wounded. The year has not amounted to much as far as the war is concerned, but we hope for the best and feel sure that in the end the Union will be restored. Goodbye 1862.”
But January did not start any better. Union General Burnside tried to move troops along the northern bank of the frozen Rappahannock River near Falmouth, Virginia. Elisha wrote; “How I would like to have some of those ‘On to Richmond’ fellows out here with us in the snow.” And, “The wagons began to turn over and mules, tethered to the wagons, were drowned in the mud and water. The rebels put up a sign marked ‘Burnside stuck in the mud.’ We can fight the rebels but not in mud.” It was not just a soldier’s complaint as Burnside finally realized that the rebel sign was correct and decided to make camp until the weather improved.
“Feb 1. (1863) General Burnside was relieved today and General Hooker has taken command. A few more changes and I suppose the people North will think the war ended.”
And on February 10th, “I met some rebels today. Firing on pickets is forbidden by both sides and we went down to the river bank. (The rebels) kept up a stream of questions and their band played and we enjoyed the music.”
“March 12. I have been granted furlough.” Then on April 7th,“Back with my army duties. Homesickness cured, but another attack of it expected.”
“Apr 14,63. On picket duty at the river today. Saw fifty Rebels. They are anxious to get northern newspapers and asked but I declined as it is against orders. General Stonewall Jackson came down to the river bank today. Several rebel sentinels told us it was Gen. Jackson. We tipped our hats and they waved back. We could have shot him but we have an agreement that neither side will fire (at pickets), it is simple murder.”
“April 15. (1863) I have become a First Lieutenant and Adjutant of Company B. I believe I am suited to the tasks and can be of service to my men.” Elisha’s unit stayed encamped outside Fredericksburg, opposite a large Confederate force across the river commanded by Robert E. Lee and, as Elisha now knew, also led by General Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson whose reputation as a great General was well known among Union soldiers.
Then, on April 26, Elisha learned that Union General Hooker was dividing his forces, but had no idea of the purpose; he only knew his unit would remain in place near Fredericksburg with the river separating the two sides. In fact, Hooker intended to march the other half of his men around the Confederate position to surprise Lee’s army by attacking from a different direction. A week later, Elisha learned that those troops met disaster at a place called Chancellorsville where 15,000 Union soldiers were lost.
“Sun. May 3. I led my unit into the battle today across the river on pontoon boats. No losses today.”
“May 6. I shall be glad when this war is over and I can be civilized again. I do not like so much death and destruction.” He had just lost 15 men, 3 killed, 12 wounded.
In a bitter moment the next day, finally realizing that the Confederates had won the engagement at Chancellorsville and Fredericksburg, he wrote, “Too many men lost. For what? The men fought with valor. Do we not have the Generals?”
And, on May 12th he added, “Gen Stonewall Jackson is dead. Shot by mistake by one of his own pickets. That may help us but I do not rejoice at his death.”
In early June, Elisha’s unit was ordered to march northward out of Virginia into Pennsylvania, and assemble near the quiet town of Gettysburg.
It would not be quiet for long.
“July 1, 1863, I live another day but many did not. A shell burst over our heads, immediately followed by showers of iron. The flying iron struck some men down, about 30 men of our brigade were killed or wounded. We had not yet fired a shot.”
Elisha did later fire his weapon, many times that day, and for the next two days. Finally, the battles faded and Elisha had time to write as he realized that he had witnessed a great Union victory.
“July 4, 1863. Was ever the Nation’s Birthday celebrated in such a way before? I wonder what the South thinks of us Yankees now! I think Gettysburg will cure the rebels of any desire to invade the North again.”
Over the next few days, Elisha would learn that in the three days of fighting, casualties for the Union were over 23,000 killed, wounded or missing which was nearly a third of the men committed to the battle. Elisha did not yet know that the Confederate losses were 28,000 nearly half of Lee’s forces, and that Lee was rapidly retreating into Virginia.
Again, however, the Union Generals, now headed by George Meade, paused and did not pursue Lee’s decimated army and finish the fight. Elisha wrote: “Why do we stand down?”
The next nine months were relatively quiet for Elisha, his letters spoke of camps, short marches, a few skirmishes, but did not mention any casualties in his unit. He almost seemed bored.
On April 19, 1864, Elisha first saw General Ulysses S. Grant and wrote, “He is a short thick set man. I was a little disappointed in the appearance, but I like the look of his eye.”
Grant took 70,000 men, including Lieutenant Elisha Rhodes, further into Virginia to engage Lee’s Army. What followed was not so much a battle but four weeks of daily skirmishes, followed by occasional all out assaults.
The battles became known as the “Wilderness Campaign” and the “Battle of Cold Harbor.”
“June 20. Yesterday, Sergeant Polley showed me a board on which he had carved his name, date of birth and a place for date of death. I asked if he expected to be killed and he said no, that he had made it for fun. Today he was killed.”
Thousands had died in the four weeks but nothing was settled. Grant and Lee had only managed to weaken their armies. But, Elisha must have distinguished himself in those battles for on June 21, 1864 he was promoted to Captain and given command of his regiment. “This is an honor I cherish and a duty I accept. The men seem pleased.”
For Elisha, the rest of the war was dangerous, of course, but he did not find himself in any more pitched battles. On October 4, 1864 he wrote, “I fired my pistol today and my men fired their rifles, and I heard musket shot over us, but we only heard and did not clearly see any rebels. We seem to be chasing ghosts.”
In December he was promoted to Lt. Colonel (he did not mention any earlier promotion to Major) and on April 2, he was promoted to full Colonel, still in command of his regiment. He only noted these changes, without any elaboration.
“Saturday April 15. We cannot realize that President Lincoln is dead. I wept.” And, on the 16th Elisha added, “Could he not have lived to see the end of this war? We do not know the Vice President. We do know General Grant and he will see us through.”
The next two weeks, while the Union and Elisha mourned the death of President Lincoln, Southern leaders realized the hopelessness of their situation and their remaining forces began to surrender.
“April 28. The war is certainly over. The roads are full of Negroes and we told them they were free. An overseer ordered them back to work and they offered to work if paid. I do not know how the matter ended.”
Elisha had spent four years in the Union Army, mostly in Virginia, but he had crossed the Potomac and its tributaries over twenty times.
“July 9. Although I want to go home, yet I think of the separation from comrades some of whom I have known for more than four years, I cannot help feeling sad. I thank God that I have had the opportunity of serving my Country, freeing the slaves, and restoring the Union.”
And then, on July 13, 1865 he wrote simply;
“I am coming home.”
Colonel Elisha Hunt Rhodes was just 23 years old.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Blockade Runners - The South’s Lifeline (Article 31)
Among their legendary names were the “Denbigh”, the “Bermuda”, the “Calhoun”, the “Cecile”, the “Banshee” and over one thousand other ships with similar missions. They were fast and they needed to be as they were the prey. One writer called it “A most deadly game of hare and hounds” and the hounds were in the Union Navy, which rapidly became the largest naval force in the world. And, the prey was the South’s lifeline.
Soon after the start of the Civil War, the Union began a naval blockade of the major harbors in the Confederate states. The purpose was to disrupt the flow of war related materials into the South and restrict the export of goods (primarily cotton and rice) which Southern states needed to sell to foreign countries. While the much smaller Confederate Navy occasionally tried to challenge the blockade, they were ineffective and, for the most part, the major ports remained restricted.
So, a new industry was born!
The Atlantic coastline of the Southern states from Virginia, around Florida, and along the Gulf of Mexico to New Orleans, had hundreds of smaller ports, simple docks, and river passages that became the lifeline for goods that needed shipped into and out of the South. There were not enough Union war ships to cover every possible landing site. Supplies from Europe, Mexico, South America, and the Caribbean would be delivered to Cuba and the Bahamas by large ocean going cargo ships and then offloaded into smaller swift ships bound for these secondary southern ports. After avoiding the Union Navy and delivering the foreign cargo, they would then be loaded with exports and sail back to their Caribbean port.
In the English language, seldom does the same word describe both an object and give a designation to the person involved. However that is the case with “blockade runner” which describes both a specific type of ship used by the South in the Civil War and also is the name given to the sailors who manned the ship.
The new ships were built in England, France and Spain and were designed to combine maximum speed with reasonable cargo capacity. Although some had sails, they were primarily powered by steam engines which usually drove a single large side mounted paddle-wheel, but occasionally ships had either two paddlewheels with one on each side or a propeller mounted in back. They were long (usually 125-200 feet, narrow and with a shallow draft to offer less resistance in the water, some had an iron clad bow, and the ships were usually painted off white or dull gray to blend in with the sea and the horizon. Of course, since the profits could be so high, many older ships were pressed into service as a blockade runner but often they were too slow or otherwise unsuited for the task and were easily captured or sunk by the Union Navy.
One contemporary British observer wrote about the blockade runners who operated around the Charleston area. “The scheme involved two ships, one designed for the long and innocent voyage across the ocean and another in which every devise known was employed that could increase efficiency, speed, invisibility, certain space for stowage and to these qualities, and all others were sacrificed. In the latest vessels of this class speed was too much studied at the expense of strength, and some of them were disabled before they reached their cruising speed, and were worthless. For the blockade runner, the excitement of fighting was wanting as the ship could make no resistance, for as a rule, she was not prepared to make any, as a pound of arms meant one pound less of goods. He could choose his time for the final run and when the moment came was prepared for it; and his moments of action were followed by intervals of repose and relaxation. It is not without danger as the runner must hug close to the shore with the Blockader (Union Navy) on one side and the rocks of the coast on the other, with no light house or flares and only a good pilot to guide them. It is a most satisfactory business.”
One blockade runner, the “Denbigh”, made so many successful runs that Confederate officials called her the “Packet” and the “Ghost”.
Those who sailed these ships, were in a very risky business, but one for which they were handsomely paid. One writer wrote that the Captains had “The cunning of a fox, the patience of a Job, and the bravery of a Spartan warrior.” Another said, “They were driven by Pride, Patriotism, and Pocket; although not always in that priority.”
The owners, Captains and sailors were also called blockade runners. Most were not affiliated with the Confederate navy, but were pure capitalists (or profiteers as they were commonly called). Some British Navy Captains even took a leave of absence to reap the large rewards paid by ship owners for only a few voyages. While some Captains were given “official papers” by the Confederate government or by a southern state, such documentation was primarily for use when transacting business in a foreign port or if they encountered a Confederate naval vessel. The documents were of absolutely no help if the blockade runner was unfortunate enough to be engaged by the Union Navy, in which case the ship would be seized, or sunk, the cargo confiscated and the sailors arrested. The owners considered such loss simply a cost of doing business and reflected the risk in their prices. However, because their newest ships had been specifically designed to be faster and more maneuverable than war-ships, even when detected the blockade runner often escaped.
The risk of loss, however, was not limited to capture by the Union Navy. More blockade runners were actually lost as they tried to navigate into the smaller ports without the benefit of lighthouses and channel buoys; often ending up aground on shoals or broken up when dashed upon rocks in storms.
At one time in 1864, it is estimated that nearly 1,000 specifically built or re-fitted ships were plying the southern Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico as blockade runners. Records show that over 200 such ships were captured or floundered, but most historians believe the number was much higher.
The blockade runners (the ships and the men) were initially employed to bring needed munitions to the Confederate armies. For example over 600,000 rifles, 200,000 pistols, 2,000 cannon and numerous swords (which were still a weapon of choice for officers during the Civil War) were delivered from European manufactures. Many of the ship Captains also ran a personal business of supplying luxury items to discerning, and wealthy, Southerners; some of whom created or maintained their wealth by selling the imported goods at very high prices to their government and their neighbors. One Captain reported on a single voyage bringing in 100 cases of French champagne, 200 bolts of fine silk, 10 cases of hair dye, 50 sets of English china, and “too much silver serving pieces to count.” The outbound run from the Confederate states was also wildly profitable as cotton could be sold in England for 10-20 times more that it had cost to buy from the Southern cotton brokers.
To the people of the South, the blockade runners were romanticized as heroes, although most were driven by money and not by ideology. Mary Chesnut, the famous Civil War diarist wrote: “An iron steamer has run the blockade at Savannah. We raise our wilted heads like flowers after a shower.” And, in Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind,” Rhett Butler was a blockade runner and she accurately portrayed their prevailing attitude by having Butler scoff at both the idealism of the Confederacy and the ineptitude of the “Yankees” to catch him; while he grew rich from the trade.
However, it was not always so easy.
When a ship was captured, and many were, whether on an import or export leg, the value of both the vessel and the cargo were a total loss for the owner. Occasionally, ships that were destroyed on the rocks due to a storm or to imprecise navigation were also total losses. However, not all shipwrecks were accidental. There were instances in which a Captain of a blockade runner, being pursued by the Union Navy, would intentionally run his ship onto the shore near where he was to meet his Confederate associates; who would then quickly offload the cargo and usually burn the ship. These cases could still be profitable for the owner as the cargo was often worth more than the ship; and he could replace the vessel with the profits.
Despite their daring, and their ability to maneuver past the Union navy, the blockade runners could not move enough goods to save the South.
For many years before the Civil War, the South had built an efficient mercantile business trading cotton and rice to Europe in return for manufactured goods. However, this business model worked against the South during the war as their production of agricultural goods for export dramatically declined and, because they had always depended upon imported finished goods, they had built very little manufacturing capability. As the Southern revenues from exports declined, the cost of imports such as clothing, farm implements, and especially weaponry, rapidly accelerated. The Confederacy went deeper into debt, over-expanded their currency and their entire economy gradually collapsed. The blockade runners could only slow, but not prevent, the downward spiral.
In the last few months of the war, far fewer blockade runners were active. First, the Southern merchants and Confederate government could no longer afford to acquire the imports, nor could they deliver exports; so the ship owners moved their operations to more profitable waters.
Simply put, the business of blockade running had run its course.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com
Lincoln and the Press (Articles 29 & 30)
PART 1: Earlier Years
Most politicians today have a love-hate relationship with the press. Early in their careers they love to gain the name recognition that press coverage brings and the opportunity to get their message (sometimes a changing message) out to the voters. But they hate criticism of their positions and at times (almost unanimously) feel the press is unfair.
Not much has changed in the last 150 years!
Abraham Lincoln and the press had a “love” relationship from about 1831 until 1860, which was followed by a sometimes tumultuous “hate” relationship. When he was younger, Lincoln was an avid reader of the few books available to him, but the various newspapers, which found their way into his rural central Illinois area, were his primary source of reading material. Newspapers were the mass media of the day, handed down to many readers beyond the original recipient and usually posted on community bulletin boards. His step-mother recalled that his first published letter was on the “evils of drink,” written when he was nineteen, which a friend had forwarded to a popular journal. Over the next few years, Lincoln wrote other short essays and humorous stories which also were reprinted in area newspapers. As a young man, he became a part-time postmaster and said that the best part of the job was that he was able to read all of the newspapers meant for his neighbors. His first “letter to the editor” to espouse a political point was published in the Springfield, Illinois Sangamo Journal on March 15,1832, in which he supported dredging the Sangamon River to make it navigable. Was it just happenstance that he intended to run for a seat in the Illinois House of Representatives later that year?
Some authors think not.
In 2014, Harold Holzer, a respected historian of the Civil War, published “Lincoln and the Power of the Press” in which he claimed that Lincoln cleverly used the newspapers, first in Springfield, then later throughout Illinois and other northern states, for over twenty-five years to build a constituency for his future political ambitions. Holzer wrote that Lincoln was able to lead the editors and publishers to support his candidacy and his political positions, when they might have otherwise not done so. He further asserts that, after Lincoln won the Republican nomination for President in 1860, his manipulations became more frequent and pronounced; and then as President, when persuasion would not work, he intensified efforts to control and censor the press.
Holzer is generally favorable to Lincoln and opines that he showed restraint when some politicians called for extensive censorship during the Civil War. But, as always occurs after a new “Lincoln” theory is postulated, a herd of other writers and commentators joined in the fray and began to sensationalize the issue. A frequent charge was that Lincoln consistently abused his Presidential power in a methodical attack on freedom of the press. Some of these other authors, but not Holzer, even confuse Lincoln’s several suspensions of Habeas Corpus (the right to hear charges in a court) during the Civil War with the separate issue of Freedom of the Press. In fact, Lincoln intervened in several cases where northern politicians and Union Generals tried to ignore Habeas Corpus to control opposition press; and never ordered the suspension of this fundamental right specifically directed at the management or reporters of a newspaper.
Holzer was at least partially correct about Lincoln’s relationship with the press, but the more vehement authors were further off-base. While some of Lincoln’s actions later in his political career show that he knew how to use the press to his own advantage, it is un-historic to claim that, as a young man, Lincoln had any machiavellian motive for his frequent letters and articles to the press. On the other hand, Lincoln might be reasonably characterized as “managing” the press after 1854 during his campaigns for the U.S. Senate and the 1860 Presidential race. And, after the Civil War began, he did take actions (or failed to take action) that at least opens the door to charges of manipulation of the press. When discussing Lincoln’s relationship with the press, the words “used, managed, and/or manipulated” are distinctions, not just semantics.
In his twenties, Abraham Lincoln was very intelligent, but he was not a prophet who foresaw his political future. When he began to regularly write letters to newspapers, he was living in tiny New Salem, a few miles from Springfield. He was working as a store clerk, surveyor and part time postmaster and he was still undecided on a career. At the time he certainly had no national political aspirations; he just enjoyed the interpersonal exchanges, both accolades and criticisms, which resulted from his letters. Encouraged by friends and neighbors, he became interested in politics and, after a failed attempt in 1832, won four consecutive elections to the Illinois House of Representatives. In 1837 he moved to Springfield to begin his law career and, for the first time, he lived in a community with a local newspaper and he became a regular contributor to the four- page Sangamo Journal. Lincoln recognized that newspapers gave him an opportunity to express his ideas to a larger audience whether he wanted to weave a humorous tale, offer an opinion on an issue of the day, or satirize a politician. While the publication of his letters and articles provided name recognition which helped politically, it was even more valuable to Lincoln in building his new law practice; the primary financial resource for him and his family.
Springfield, which was the county seat and soon would become the State Capital, consistently had a least two newspapers. These competing publications provided national news a few days after the events, reports of local interest, advertisements, articles meant to entertain, space for letters to the editor, and political commentary.
Especially, political commentary!
Almost all newspapers were extremely partisan publications which touted the candidates and causes for which they approved and eviscerated the opposition. Truth was only an occasional and frequently an unintentional by-product. However, even opposition papers often published Lincoln’s letters and essays because most were humorous as he thought that a “light hearted jab did not sting as much” and he frequently poked fun at himself.
After his fourth term as a state legislator, during which he was Speaker of the House, Lincoln chose to leave office to focus on his law practice. Although he did not run for office for another five years, he consistently sent letters on many subjects to the newspapers; which at least puts a dent in the theory that he consistently used the press for political gain.
But, in 1846, he said “I again had the political itch and I had to scratch it” so he decided to run for a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives; despite the fact that his party did not hold a majority in his district. In an interesting twist, the incumbent unexpectedly announced his resignation to join the U.S. Army in anticipation of a war with Mexico and Lincoln was approached by several publishers who offered to support him for a direct interim appointment to Congress. Although it would have been a quicker and easier path to Congress, Lincoln declined because he thought he should win or lose in his own race. So much for manipulation of the press!
During his campaign for Congress Lincoln continued to write letters to newspapers in his district, however, his letters, and printed speeches, probably cost him some votes as he frequently expressed his concerns about President Polk’s war with Mexico. He told friends that he realized that he was “swimming upstream” but thought “the people should know where I stand” on the war and “President Polk’s land grab” in Mexico. Although he won the election, his constituency was shrinking because the War was popular with most Americans. Then, once he was seated in Congress, he became a vociferous critic of the War, and even opposed the surrender terms after the American victory; further depleting his base of support.
If, as some authors claim, his letters to newspapers were calculated to boost his political opportunities, then Lincoln made a catastrophic error! His correspondence with newspapers and Congressional votes related to the war with Mexico certainly cost him any chance for re-election. He chose to not run for a second term and he would not run for political office for another five years. Again, hardly a good example of manipulation of the press!
But, his flow of correspondence to newspapers never waned. His topics often included political issues, support for public works projects within Illinois, the benefits of railroad expansion, and generally favored Whig politicians over their Democrat opponents; and, of course, the occasional fictional “yarn” from his lively imagination.
He was most profound, however, when addressing the attempts in Congress in 1850 and 1854 to reach compromises with Southern states on the issue of expansion of slavery. While Lincoln accepted that slavery was permitted under the Constitution in certain states, he was adamantly opposed to the admission of slavery into the western states and northwestern territories. By 1854, his letters and speeches on the matter were widely covered by many newspapers in both the North and South. It is during this time when he developed a plan to use the newspapers to further his political career; but even then, his grandest hope was to become a U.S. Senator from Illinois or possibly Governor; but certainly not President of the United States.
At least not yet!
Therefore, if the clock starts at 1854-1855, those authors may be justified who claim Lincoln “used” or “managed” (but not yet “manipulated”) the press to advance his political career.
Part 2 explores his evolving attitudes about managing news coverage after 1856 and some of his more forceful actions as President after 1861, which might rationally be referred to by some as “manipulation” of the press.
Part 2: Becoming President
In 2014, Harold Holzer published “Lincoln and the Power of the Press” suggesting that Lincoln, from the time he wrote a letter to the Sangamon Journal in 1831, methodically used newspapers for over twenty five years to build a constituency for his future political ambitions to become the Illinois Governor, Senator, Vice President, or even President. Holzer, and other writers who subsequently jumped on the bandwagon (and gravy train), assert that Lincoln was able to get editors and publishers to promote his agenda through friendship, flattery, and even political favors. Further, they claim that after he won the Republican nomination for president in 1860, his manipulations became more frequent and pronounced; then as President, when persuasion did not work, he intensified efforts to control, intimidate, and censor the press. While Holzer tends to give Lincoln credit for some restraint during a violent Civil War, and gives him a generally favorable overview, other writers level more serious, and spurious, charges.
On the other hand, most Lincoln scholars believe that he had no preconceived notion to use the press to further his political objectives until at least 1854. For the most part, he simply enjoyed interaction with the press; whether by letters to editors which were published and would often result in a dialogue, or by personal interviews with reporters, editors, and publishers.
But, by 1854, things did change. Lincoln realized that his rapport with many newspapers provided him with a forum to express his opposition to the expansion of slavery, and could be helpful as he planned to again run for office after a seven year hiatus. Then, as President, he intensified his efforts to manage newspaper coverage of events during the Civil War, providing credence to the charge that he “manipulated” the press.
What were these circumstances that began Lincoln’s evolution from simply enjoying the banter with the press, to then utilizing the press to enhance his political opportunities and further his objectives for public policy, and finally to consider interference with the press?
By 1850, the differences over the issue of slavery began to cause serious unrest throughout the country. Some wanted slavery abolished, others (like Lincoln) wanted it controlled to the limited number of states authorized under the Constitution, and some wanted it not only preserved but expanded to other states and territories. Lincoln abhorred slavery and, in 1854, began to use the public forums he had gained in newspapers over the past 25 years to articulate his opposition to Congressional compromises that would permit the expansion of slavery.
Also, seven years after his last campaign, he began to think about re-entering politics.
In 1854, the first evidence surfaced that Lincoln planned to cultivate editors and publishers who would be proponents for his future campaigns, rather than just publish his public policies. After announcing that he would switch to the new Republican Party, Lincoln called on Joseph Medill, owner/publisher of the Chicago Tribune, who believed that Lincoln could convince members of the dying Whig Party to become Republicans. After his successful alliance with Medill, the Tribune ran numerous articles promoting Lincoln and his political positions and he even used offices at the newspaper when he was in Chicago. And, over the next four years Lincoln cultivated relationships with other prominent editors and publishers as he made a concerted effort to win the 1858 appointment as the United States Senator from Illinois. Although the Democrat party held a majority in the Illinois Legislature, which would make the Senatorial appointment, Lincoln garnered enough votes from non-Republicans to make the selection close; but he still lost to Stephen A. Douglas.
However, he emerged from that race with positive national exposure due to the public interest in the Lincoln-Douglas debates, and renewed his efforts for a run for Governor or the next Senate appointment in 1860. To capitalize on the exposure, he regularly sent excerpts from the debates and related speeches to newspapers throughout the North, and he financially helped publish a best-selling book about the debates. After his acclaimed speech in opposition to slavery at Cooper Union in New York City in early 1860, Lincoln assured that the text was provided to newspapers throughout the northern states.
Generally, until he won the Republican nomination for President in June 1860, newspapers in the north were favorable to Lincoln even if they endorsed one of the perceived stronger Republican candidates. Many thought his life story was quaint and would be interesting to their readers, but that he could not win the nomination. However, after his nomination, there was a discernable change in reporting of his speeches, editorial replies to his letters, and observations by publishers of newspapers aligned with the Republican Party; especially if the paper had strongly endorsed another candidate for the nomination, as almost all did.
His honeymoon with the press was over!
Now began what one recent author titled “Lincoln’s War for Public Opinion” and what another, with all of the hyperbole he could muster, called “Lincoln’s assault on the freedom of the press.” And, it is at this period of time (1860-1861) to which those authors who are critical of Lincoln’s relationship with the press can point with some reason to question his motives.
Lincoln embarked on a concerted effort to affect the manner in which newspapers covered his candidacy and then, after he won the election, intensified his effort to manage the press. Among other steps, he invested in a German language newspaper to support his candidacy, and he began to single out certain newspapers for interviews that he expected would lead to favorable commentary in the press.
President Lincoln never held a formal news conference. He preferred to meet individually with reporters, almost always in the presence of one of his secretaries or a Cabinet member. He would also allow reporters to stop by the White House and, if he had the time, would permit a quick meeting; if not, the reporter could jot down a few questions and Lincoln would usually reply within the same day. But this was not just a courtesy to the press. Lincoln said he usually gained more information than he gave since reporters often had received telegraphed news even before he received official reports.
He also offered certain reporters and publishers favored access to the White House and in return, he expected his administration’s policies would receive positive mention in their papers. Early in his Presidency Lincoln sought to reward John Forney, publisher of the both the Philadelphia Press and the Washington based Sunday Morning Chronicle for a continuing stream of favorable commentary. Forney was not only given a position as “Secretary” for the Republican Caucus in Congress, but his newspapers received regular payments for advertising by the State Department and War Department. Lincoln even occasionally wrote a “position paper” which would appear first in Forney’s publications. Was this good management of the press or was it manipulation?
In another instance, Lincoln became aggravated by New York Tribune publisher Horace Greeley’s constant insistence that Lincoln give abolition an equal standing with preservation of the Union as reason for continuing the Civil War. After several vicious editorials, the President finally agreed to provide Greely with a definitive statement on the matter. Greeley considered that he had won a concession from the President and announced in his paper that he had demanded a clarification statement and that Lincoln had conceded. Lincoln then wrote the famous letter in which he said (paraphrased) that his primary goal was the Preservation of the Union and that if he could save the Union by freeing every slave, or only freeing some slaves, or even by freeing no slaves, he would do it. Then late on a Saturday, Lincoln sent the original to Greeley and a copy to the Washington National Intelligencer. Lincoln knew that Greeley did not publish on Sunday but the Intelligencer did, so the “scoop” that Greely wanted was printed a day earlier in Washington and in all New York papers on Monday. Lincoln’s actions might be considered “manipulation” by some; but others believe that the egotistical Greeley got what he deserved.
There is sometimes a fine line between Presidential recognition and perceived patronage. During his re-election campaign of 1864, Lincoln reached out to James Gordon Bennett, publisher of the very influential New York Herald, who had been highly critical of Lincoln’s conscription policies. Lincoln still thought Bennett was honorable and respected Bennett’s world understanding. Through an intermediary, Lincoln asked if Bennett would consider becoming Ambassador to France, an offer that was intended as a show of respect and to let Bennett know that Lincoln harbored no ill feelings. Bennett graciously declined and the episode resulted in at least respectful relations between the two men. However, the offer became an embarrassment to Lincoln and Bennett when it was leaked to other newspapers which then nearly unanimously called it a pay-off for favorable editorials. Some consider that the episode was a failed attempt by Lincoln at manipulation of the press; but was it?
As President, he did not always have to become personally involved in press management, as he had a ready supply of surrogates. His Generals frequently refused to cooperate with the press and some even detained reporters and publishers. Lincoln quietly supported some but reigned in others. General William Tecumseh Sherman had little tolerance for the press, once saying that he hated “men who will not take a musket and fight, but will follow an army to pick up news for sale.” Sherman even convened a court-martial to try Thomas Knox, a reporter from the New York Herald who had told the General to his face that he “led with insanity and inefficiency” on the battlefield. The court convicted Knox of the minor infraction of “Accompanying the army without permission” and Sherman’s only available punishment was to thereafter ban Knox from his command. Lincoln, not wanting to embarrass one of his top Generals, waited a few weeks to pardon Knox, but asked the Herald to keep him away from Sherman.
There were numerous instances in which Union Generals suppressed newspapers in captured Southern territory, but those can be justified as war measures in enemy territory. However, there were also several editors and publishers in Northern states who railed against the draft, criticized specific military action, or even disclosed sensitive military tactical plans to the point that local Union commanders considered the comments inflammatory and a danger to either their troops or to public order. In every instance, except one, when such a situation occurred in the North, Lincoln ordered the Commander to cease the censorship preferring to “let the people decide which way to go” as he thought that the “cure was worse than the disease.”
But there was one instance in which Lincoln directly ordered the closure of a northern newspaper. Since mid-1863, New York City had been a hotbed of draft resistance with large scale riots resulting in several thousand injuries and hundreds of deaths, and federal troops had been required to restore order. On May18th, 1864, the New York World fabricated a story, even forging Lincoln’s signature on a fake proclamation, which declared a new draft for up to 400,000 troops. Public outrage was immediate and dangerous. Lincoln responded the following day in telegraphs to all New York papers in which he called the story false, wicked, traitorous, treasonous, and provided aid to the enemy. But the World not only repeated the concocted story, but added other “invented” material and, as a result, Lincoln ordered the publisher arrested and the newspaper prevented from any further publication. Lincoln later said that he never regretted the decision because New York had been the scene of terrible rioting initiated by opponents of the draft and he saw the fabricated proclamation as incendiary.
Lincoln didn’t mind so much if newspaper articles were critical of him personally. However, he was concerned if an article attacked his decisions as Commander-in Chief as either too cautious or, contrarily, as too aggressive; and he would occasionally issue an open letter that he knew would be published in many newspapers. For example, he quickly and forcefully responded when several publishers attempted to sway public opinion to support a so-called Unilateral Peace Initiative, which called for an end to the war but left the Confederate states as an independent nation. Lincoln was committed to re-unification of the country, and thought the proposal suggested that the sacrifices of hundreds of thousands of soldiers would have been in vain. In this case, Lincoln had the support of most Northern newspapers so he only had to “suggest” that those loyal publishers point out the folly of such a settlement.
In my opinion, Lincoln did not begin to manipulate the press as a young man to promote his political ambitions, he just enjoyed the process. And later in life he generally used his rapport with newspaper publishers to place his political views, and his candidacy, before the citizens; which might, at worst, be called press management.
However, many Lincoln scholars (and I) share the view that some of his actions when he was President are more difficult to defend. So, as President, did he appropriately manage, or inappropriately manipulate (even coerce), the press? Under the circumstances, were his actions justified, or not?
The answers are not so easy, but I give him the benefit of the doubt.
Contact the author at gadorris2@gmail.com