LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 011 021 769 9 HOLLINGER pH8.5 MILL RUN F3-1543 THE REBELLION, -OR "History of the Late Civil War IN THE UNITED STATES. J. W. BUHOUP, Author of the " History of the Mexican War." The most complete History ever offered to the Public, COMMENClKCi AT THE OUTBREAK AND CAREFULLY DESCRIBING EACH EX'ENT until THE CLOSE. Printed in Pamfjhlet form in Eight parts, at Thirty Five Cents each, to be issued Semi-Monthly. Giving you the ENTIRE History of the War for FVVO DOLLARS AND EIGHTY CENTS, which heretofore has cost from TEN to TWENTY DOLLARS. A most interesting, instructive, and valuable worl<, and one that should b«j in cxcry Home. KNTKKFIi -\T clIirAOO IKWT OFKICB A8 9B'OND-cl,A..vS MATTK'.. ; ^BIDiniiL <5c CO., No. 103 ADAMS STREET, CKICA.C3-0, ILL. .SOI. I) li\' .SLiUSCRHTloN n\\.\ \ \ r I Enkred accordmi to Ad of Congress, in the year 1«84, b>/ . A B DILL c6 COMPANY, in the office of tH Librarian of Congress, at Washiiuit,.,,. i-15A3 CONTENTS. (UIAI'TKi; IV. Ai'KIl,, ISCil. Entliiisinsiu of the I'cople. :iiul Raseness of Contractors— Marcli of the Uegiments — The Massachusetts Sixtti Attacked in Baltiniore— Dejiarturc of tlie Seventh New York— Entliusiasm South— Fears of the People and Mayor of Baltimore— Collision Prevented by the Troops Going by Way of Annajjolis — Their Arrival at Washington— Defection in tlie Army and Navy— IJobert E. Lee— Eilect of the States' Eights Doctrine— Great Union Meeting iu New York— Its Reception South— Proclamation of the President Increasing the Standing Army— Tennessee Joins the South— Action of the Government— Suspension of the Writ of Habeas Corpus- Mistake in Not Calling Congress Together Sooner. CHAPTER V. Mav-Juke, 18t;i. Public Expectation- Position of the Forces in Front of Washington— Appointment of Generals— Occu- pation of Alexandria— Murder of Colonel Ellsworth— Efiect on the North— Fight at Big Bethel— Feeling of the People Respecting It— Captain Lyon at St. Louis— Refuses to Obey the Public Commissioners of the City- Takes the Entire Force of Governor Jackson and General Price, Prisoners— His Troops Mobbed— Pursues Jackson— Fight at Booneville— Generiil Harney— His Vacillating Course— McClellan Made Major-General and Sent to Western Virginia — His Past Career — Harper's Ferry Evacuated — Concentration of the Rebels at Man- assas Junction— Fight at Phillippi— Kelly Wounded — Schenck Surprised near Vienna— The Question of Fugitive Slaves — Capture of the First Rebel Privateer, Savannah — The Privateer Sumter at Sea. CHAPTER VI. June, 18(il. McClellan Takes Command of the Army in Western Virginia — Advances on the Enemy — Battle of Rich Mountain — Gallant Action of Roseoranz — Of Lander— Defeat of Pegram and Capture of His Forces — Pursuit of Garnett — Action of Carrick's Ford — A Terrible March — Death of Garnett — Defeat of His Forces — Fox on Kanhawa— Action of Barboui?sville— Retreat of Wise— Close of the Campaign iu Western Virginia— Sigel in Missouri— Battle of Carthage— His Admirable Retreat — State of Kentucky — LTnionism in Eastern Tennessee. CHAPTER VII. July, WM. Meeting of Congress— President's Message— Chief Commanders on Both Sides at Tliis Time— The "On to Richmond" Cry— The Question of Funds— Lack of Statesmen in Congress— The Radical Element — Incrcjis- ing the Navy — An Onward Movement Decided Upon — Reasons for It — Johnson and Patterson — McDowell to Command the Army — His Departure for Manassas — Splendid Appearance of — Artillery Fight at Bhi' ' Ford — Advance of the Army from Centreville — Plan of the Battle — Hunter and Heintzelman — P.iy a Run— The Defeat— The Rout — Danger of the Capital— Effect of the News on the North— Ca extend of the Overthrow — Surrender of Fort Fillmore in New Jlexico. Y CONTENTS PART FIRST CHAPTER I. Prior to 1861. I Cause of the RelDellion — Danger of Sectional Parties — History of Slavery in the Government — Causes of Hostility between the North and South — Missouri Compromise — Hostile Legislation in the States — Congress — The Whig and Democratic Parties — Necessity of a New Party in the Place of the Whig — The Republican Party — Southern Conspirators — Their Plan — Election of Lincoln — First Steps towards Disunion. CHAPTER IL December, 1860 — April, 1861. South Carolina takes the Lead — Reception South of its Act of Secession — Anderson in Fort Sumter — Distraction of the Government — Resignation of Southerners — The North Divided — Progress of Disunion South — Seizure of National Property — Star of the West — Scenes in Congress — Rights of the People — Riglit of Secession — Lincoln's Passage to Washington and Inauguration — His Cabinet — Virginia — ^Southern Commis- sioners — Fort Sumter — Preparations for its Bombardment. CHAPTER TH. April, 1861. First Sliot at Fort Sumter — Its Fearful Significance — The Bombardment — Surrender of — Exultation of +'. People of Charleston — Reception of the News North — Union of All Parties — Proclamation of the Presi- "^lling for Seventy-five Thousand Troops — Response of the North — Reply to it by Southern Governors — ^f the North — Delusion of Both Sections — Davis Calls for Southern Volunteers and for Privateers — -Embarrassments of the Government — Surrender of Norfolk — Surrender of Harper's Ferry '^ Arsenal. PREFACE. The earth has been cursed with civil wars from the earliest times in which we have records of the race. Though characterized by more or less ferocity, and assuming various shapes, they all may be divided into two •general classes. Those that occur under a despotic form of government, spring from oppression which the l)eople, no longer able to bear, venture all the terrible hazard of a resolution to throw off. Those that take place under a democratic form of government, are brought about by a few ambitious men, who seek by faction to obtain power. Those of the former class possess dignity and grandeur, from the fact that they are based on the great doctrine of human rights. Man asserting his inherent, God-given rights on the battle field against overwhelm- ing odds, is a sublime spectacle. The latter are based on falsehoods, and kept ahve by deception. Such were the civil wars of the early republics. In the time of Cromwell, both religious and civil liberty were the grand prizes of the struggle ; and whether we look at Hampden, calmly suffering for the sake of liberty, or at Cromwell's Ironsides, sweeping like a thunder cloud to battle, with the fearful war cry, " Religion," on their lips, our deepest sympathies and admiration are excited, and we forget the horrors of the carnage in the mighty stake at issue. So in the bloody revolution of France ; though the views of the masses were vague, and their speech often "incoherent, yet when we behold inscribed on their banner the great charter of human rights, and the head of a king thrown down as the gage of battle, we no longer see the crimson field with its " garments rolled in blood," we see only • the divine image of human liberty hovering over it. Ours is of a mixed character, and hence in some respects unlike all others that have preceded it ; but like all civil wars in republics, it sprung from a faction who sought only political power. Those make a great mistake who suppose it grew out of a desire merely to perpetuate slavery. Slavery was used as a means to an end — a bugbear to frighten the timid into obedience, and a rallying cry for the ignorant, deluded masses. The accursed lust of power lay at the bottom of it. The entire North, including the Republican party, had repeatedly- declared, in the most emphatic manner, that it had no intention to interfere with slavery in the States where it existed ; for they had no right to do so under the Constitution. Its po-petuili/ there was conceded, until the States themselves should get rid/oi it. Hence, the Southern conspirators had no fear on that point, but they knew they could not carry the people with them unless ffiey convinced them that slavery was to be assailed in their very homes, to be followed by a servile insurrection. They desired, of course, to extend slavery, because in that way alone they could extend PREFACE. their power. The perpetuity of slavery was a necessary consequence of all this ; because the power they sought to obtain was founded on it — it was the chief corner-stone. Here is where the mistake is made in get- ting at the true cause of the rebellion. The whole question may be stated thus : Southern politicians saw in the rapid increase of the free States, both in number and population, and the deep hostility to the admission of any more slave States, that the power they had so long wielded in the Government would be broken. The only course left them was to set up an independent government. Though they might be weak at first, slave States could be added, as circumstances should determine. To effect their purpose they would seize on the tariff, or slavery, or anything else that would unite the South. Calhoun tried the former, and failed; they, the latter, and succeeded. Thus it will be seen that the perpetuity and extension of slavery is a necessary con- sequence of the late rebellion, if successful; not its first cause,— just as free trade would have followed the attempt of Calhoun to take the South out of the Union, had it succeeded. The great, moving cause was the desire of power — slavery the platform on which they worked their diabolical machinery. This was unquestionably the view taken by our Government, and the cause of its extreme leniency at first, which so many condemned. It sought to disabuse the people of the idea that we meant to attack their peculiar institutions, and hoped they would see that they were being duped and led into ruin by desperate, unscrupulous, ambitious men. So also did the mass of the Northern people view it, and hence rushed to arms, feeling but little animosity, except toward the leaders. The " Constitution " was their rallying cry— the pres- ervation of the Government the sublime motive that sent them to the field of carnage. On the one hand, the world saw men crowding to battle, pretending to fight for the very freedom which they were all the time in the full enjoyment of— on the other hand, more than a million of citizens rising in arms, with no object beyond the desire to see their enemies secure in that very freedom. THE REBELLION, CHAPTER I. Priok to 1861. If Hudibras was right in his assumption, that there is and can he no fighting where one party gives all the blows — the other being content with meekly and patiently receiving them— then it might be plausibly contended that our great Civil War was initiated by the bombardment of Fort Sumter, or by the attempt to supply its famishing garrison, some weeks after Mr. Lincoln's inauguration. But Wit stands opposed to Reason in this case, as in many others. The first attempt in the interest of Secession to disposses the Union, by force, of any property or position held by it, even though not seriously opposed, was as truly an act of war as though it had been desperately re- sisted, at the cost of hundreds of lives. The Rebellion of 18G1 forms one of the most ex- traordinary chaptersin human history that the pen of the historian was ever called upon to record. States having a common interest and origin, bap- tised in the same patriotic blood, were arrayed against each other in deadly strife — families divided, parents against children, and brothers against broth- ers — churches with a common faith and communion split asunder, and ministers and people who had wept at the same altar, suddenly began to pray each for the other's discomfiture ; and the happiest land the sun ever shone upon became drenched in fra- ternal blood, and filled with sighs and lamentations ; and posterity will ask, for what? Volumes have and will be written on the causes that led to these appall- ing evils, and the guilt be placed upon this or that class or section, according to the peculiar views or prejudices of the writer. The time has not yet come for the people to receive a just, dispassionate account of them. A generation, at least, must pass away, before this can be done. With the frightful catastro- phe which had overtaken us, full in view, no section or party was willing to accept the responsibility of its existence. All know the immediate cause of it. The North and South were at length arrayed against each other in two great political parties, on the ques- tion of slavery. The Northern party triumphed ; and though no illegal act was charged against it, and no pretense offered that it had not succeeded in a le- gitimate, constitutional way, the defeated Southern party refused to accept the decision of the ballot box, and rushing into open revolt, proceeded to organ- ize a government of its own. Unreasonable, unnat- ural, and criminal as this course appears, it was in perfect keeping with the history of former republics, and an event which every one not blinded by fanat- icism, or selfishness, or ignorance, or contempt of the past, could easily have foretold without any spirit of prophecy. It makes no dilierence what the cause may be, whether slavery, unequal legislation, or im- aginary evils ; whenever East and West, or North and South, shal' now, or hereafter, stand arrayed against each other in hostile political parties, if the attitude is maintained, peaceful dissolution or civil war must follow. It was in view of this possible calamity, that Washington, in his farewell address, used the following language : " In contemplating the causes that may disturb our Union, it occurs as matter of serious concern, that any ground shall have been furnished for characterizing parties by geographical discriminations. Northern and Southern, Atlantic and Western, whence designing men may endeavor to ex- cite a belief that there is a real dilierence of local in- terests and views." This advice it is the historian's imperative duty to impress on the public mind, let whatever party or section of the country be guilty of political factions, based on geographical lines. How much it may be THE REBELLION. the duty of one portion to suffer from the aggressions of another, before it ought to stand up in its own de- fense, is strictly another question — the great truth which should be engraven, as with the point of a dia- mond, on the public heart, is this : Whenever the position IS. taken, let it be assumed with the full understanding and consent that it shall end in peaceful separation or open war. Let the people never again be deluded by ig- norant, selfish leaders, into the belief that it can be done without danger. Whenever the first step is taken towards the arraying of one section of this country against the other, in a political contest, let every one who engages in it, make up his mind to go to the bitter end, and not delude himself and others, by the contemptuous cry of " no danger." Boastful and proud as we as a people undoubtedly are, we shall alwaj'S find in the end, that we form no excep- tion to the history of nations. What has wrecked other republics, if persisted in, will assuredly wreck us. Our advanced civilization and Christianity, can- not avail us to escape their doom, except as they enable us to avoid their errors and crimes. But though the time has not yet come for a calm and dispassionate discussion of all the causes that brought ^bout this rebellion, certain historical events may be given as the foundation for our own judgment. This, too, is necessary to any right understanding of it. When we had achieved our independence of Great Britain, and our patriotic sires assembled to lay the foundation of the new government, they found them- selves confronted with a glaring inconsistencj', which they could see no way to avoid incorporating into the very structure itself — viz., slavery. Right in the face .of the declaration of independence, by which the re- bellion had been justified, and on which the battle had been fought and won, they had to accept human slavery as one of the strange features of the new re- public. To us it seems a singular providence that fastened this necessity upon them. They felt the em- barassment it produced, and feared the evils that would result from giving such an incongruous, de- moralizing thing a place in the temple of liberty. They solaced themselves, however, with the hope that it would gradually disappear under the benign in- fluence of free institutions, and the palpable advan- tages of free labor. Their anticipations were to a certain extent realized, and State after State released itself from the curse of slavery, until emancipation reached nearly to the parallel of thirty. Here its progress was arrested, though in Maryland, Virginia, and Kentucky, influences were at work which prom- ised before long to place them beside the free States of the North. Bills were introduced into their legis- latures, looking to gradual emancipation; and the subject was publicly and fully discussed within their borders till it looked, for a time, as though the prob- lem of slavery was to have a peaceful and happy solution. Independent of moral considerations, on the score of economy alone, it was plain that these States should range themselves on the side of freedom. But just at this critical period, a few violent aboli- tionists commenced a fierce crusade against slavery and slaveholders. This alarmed the timid, lest emanci- pation should end in insurrection; and enraged others, who would not be driven by vituperation into anj' measure, until all thought of gradual emancipation was dropped. Added to this, the cultivation of cotton rapidly acquired prominence as a source of wealth, and the importation of slaves being prohibited, the value of those in the country who were needed for its production, necessarily became very much enhanced. Thus the hope of the extinction of slavery, which most looked to at soqje future period, was gradually abandoned bj' the Southern States, and it was ac- cepted as a permanent institution. It then became necessary to defend and strengthen it. To do this, it must have its proportion of the new States that were constantly asking for admission ; for the moral sense of the North was becoming more and more averse to a system fraught with every abomination that dis- graced the darkest days of feudalism. Here was the starting point of the collision between the North and the South, which finally resulted in an appeal to arms. To let slavery extend itself, and move beside freedom in the enlargement of the Republic, was re- volting to civilization and Christianity, as well as clearly contrary to the jjurpose and expectations of the framers of the Constitution. Still, neither of the great political parties would incorporate this senti- ment into their platforms, and the warfare between freedom and slavery assumed a desultory character ; and various propositions and compromises were offered to get rid of the vexed question, till finally the " Missouri Compromise," fixing the Southern boun- dary of that State as the line beyond which, south- ward, freedom should not go, and beyond which, northward, slavery should not be extended, seemed to make a final disposition of it ; for no one proposed to interfere with slavery in the States where it ex- isted. But the tide of emigration, rolling westward, peopling with marvellous rapidity our wild territory, soon revealed the startling fact, that in a short time THE RKHKrJ.ION. the free States would greatly outnumber those in which slavery could be established. Tlie South naturally became alarmed at the pros- pect of thus being put in a hopeless minority, and proportionably bitter in its feelings toward the North. The repeal of this compromise awakened a feeling of intense indignation throughout the North, and had it been exclusively a Southern measure, might have been attended by disastrous consequences. But being introduced by Mr. Douglas, a Northern man, and voted for l)y many Northern Democrats, it could not wholly be charged on the South. In the meantime, the fertile plains of Kansas had attracted settlers into it, and it was seen that a new State, which lay mostly north of the line which the Missouri Compromise pro- hibited to slavery, would soon ask to be admitted into the Union. Immediately there arose a fierce struggle between the North and South, respecting the future status of the State on the subject of slavery. It is now evident, tliat had it been let alone, the char- acter of the emigrants would have settled it without bloodshed. But as it was, the young and struggling territory became the theatre of a terrible strife, which shook the Nation to its center. It must not be forgotten, that during these years of increasing excitement and danger to the Republic, though the General Government stood uncommitted to either sectifin of the country, the States, North and South, in their sovereign capacity, legislated against each other, and intensified the bitter hatred, the end of which every patriotic statesman trembled to contemplate. Freedom was declared in some States to belong to every slave brought northward by his master, while fugitives, whose rendition was com- manded by tlie Constitution, could, in many places, no longer be recovered with any certainty, or if so, at an expense that discouraged the attempt. On the other hand, pains and penalties were inflicted on "Abolitionists," as all were termed who dared to ex- press sentiments condemnatory of slavery, by the Southern States, and men, and even women, were subjected to treatment that would disgrace barba- rians. These acts, in turn, exasperated the North, and the feeling of indignation was intensified still niv,. '-"y lecturers, who carefully collated all true and reported instances of cruelty to slaves, and retailed them to Northern audiences. Thus, the breach be- tween the North and South gradually widened, till, without some radical change, it became apparent that a separation, or an attempted separation, was inevi- table. Scenes were enacted in every Congress that did not tend to allay the excitement, and we gradu- ally became more hostile in feeling and sentiment than any two entirely separate luitions in the civil- ized world. In this state of the i)ublic mind, the Whig jiarty, which, with the J)emocratic, had by turns ruled the Nation, fell into a hopeless minority. The United States bank, tariff, sub-treasury, etc., which had furnished its platform, were finally disposed of. The American j>arty completed its demoralization, and there was nothing left for it to rally on. In this emergency, some of its old leaders cast about for some- thing on wliii'h to reorganize a new party, and seeing how deej) and wide-spread was the anti-slavery sen- timent of the North, determined to make it, in some form, its platform. This was tlie first great step to- wards placing the North and South face to face with each other in a struggle for the control of the Govern- ment. In ordinary times, the advice of Washington, which the ])eople had been taught to revere, and their common instincts, would have rendered this attempt powerless to do evil. But the outrages committed in Kansas on free citizens, by lawless ruffians, who pro- claimed themselves the champions of slavery, and the worse than brutal attack on Mr. Sumner, in his seat in the Senate, awakened such a feeling of indignation at the Nortii, that it threatened, for a time, to over- leap every oljstaclc, and, if need be, rush to arms to avenge the insults and wrongs heaped upon it. The election, hoM^cr, resulted in the defeat of the Republican party, and election of Mr. Buchanan, and all immediate danger of a disruption of the Union seemed to be over. It would have been, but for some few Southern conspirators, who for many years had plotted the overthrow of the Government, and only waited a favorable opportunity to give success to their schemes. They had been able, under the excitement of the political canvass through which they had passed, so to educate and poison the public mind of a portion of the South, that they saw, with skillful management, they could make the future triumph of the Republican party a pretext on which they could raise successfully the flag of Secession; and from that moment their dark and hellish purpose was taken. The North little dreamed of this, and, meditating no disloyalty against the Government, did not imagine those political leaders, though bold and unscrupulous, would dare raise their parricidal hand against it. Buchanan's administration, though characterized by imbecility and a disregard of the grave responsi- bilities of his high position, was quietly acquiesced in, and the freedom of Kansas being secured, the 10 THE EEBP^LLION. public feeling of the North became more calm. At the uext election, in 18G0, though the Republicans took the bold, unprecedented step of selecting both their candidates on the electoral ticket from the North, thus inevitably making a direct sectional is- sue, very little apprehension was excited. All our wide domain, except the Territory of New Mexico, was disjoosed of, and that, as far as it could be, by any immediate action of the Government; and there seemed nothing to contend for but political suprem- acy, for its own sake. The Southern conspirators were perfectly aware of this, and knew that if the Southern States went together in a solid body, they could carry enough Northern ones to secure the elec- tion. The nomination of Douglas, they knew, and all knew, would be ef|uivalent to his election. They were satisfied, also, that under his administration they would suffer no invasion of their rights. But they had got beyond the desii'e to control the Gov- ernment — they determined to have an independent, Southern one. To effect this, they resolved to sow division in their own ranks, and thus secure the suc- cess of the Republican party. They did so, and, leaving the campaign to its inevitable result, spent their time and efforts in preparing for a revolution. Yancey and Davis were outwardly the leaders in this foul conspiracy, while Floyd and Thompson, mem- bers of Buchanan's cabinet, were secretly using their official positions as members of the Government, and perjuring themselves in the presence of Heaven and the civilized world, to carry it on. The former, as Secretary of War, had, as far as lay in his power, so arranged the commands of the different forts, and distributed the army, and accumulated arms at the South, as to cripple the incoming administration, and render it powerless to assert the rights of the Govern- ment. The election of Mr. Lincoln took place early in November, and almost immediately the extreme South set in motion the already prepared scheme of dissolu- tion. Though the falsehoods that had been freely circulated respecting the designs of the Republicans — which they said were to emancipate the slaves and arm them against their masters, — and the triumph of a Northern party, naturally excited indignation and alarm; yet, when the hour came for the final blow to be struck which should dismember this great Repub- lic, even the hardened leaders trembled. Northern fanatics and Southern conspirators had for years talked about disunion with a lightness that seemed close akin to madness, and laughed at the fears and warnings of statesmen, whom they stigmatized as "Union savers." Yet they hesitated when they stood on the brink of the yawning abyss, whose mysterious depths, notwithstanding, their vaunted confidence, they feared to try. The people, csijecially, started back from so hazardous an experiment. In this crisis, the Southern leaders tried in various ways to defend their own course, or to satisfy the i^eople it was safe and right. To the timid they declared that no war would follow the act of secession, for a large portion of the North, they alleged, sympathized with them, and de- nounced, as bitterly as they did, the sectional, aggres- sive action of the Republicans, and would never per- mit them to hold their power by force of arms. This was unquestionably true at the time. To all they siiid, submission now was vassalage forever. Mean- while the whole South was tossed on a sea of agita- tion, some wishing to delay final action till there could be a convention of all the Southern States, so as to secure harmony, others declaring that delay would give the North time to organize and consoli- date its power. CHAPTER II. December, 18G0 — April, 1861. The secession of South Carolina was hailed with instant and general exultation by the plotters of dis- union in nearly every slave State. There were cele- brations, with parades, music, cannon-firing, speeches, etc., on that evening or the following day, at New Or- leans, Mobile, Memphis, etc. Even at Wilmington, Del., where the Secessionists were few indeed, the event was honored by a salute of a hundred guns. Senator Andrew Johnson was still more honored, on the 22nd, by being burned in effigy by the Secession- ists of Memphis. While the Northern cities were anxious, apprehensive and paralyzed, it was noted that at Baltimore, though no formal celebration was had, people seemed relieved and cheerful ; the streets were gayly crowded, and business was better. At Washington, Mr. Garnett, of Virginia, exultingly an- nounced the fact of South Carolina's secession in the House ; whereupon three or four Southrons clapped Till'] KKHKI.LloX. 11 their hands. There was no furthur public manifes- tation in Congress, and none north of the Virginia line, save in Wilmington, as aforesaid. A mere handful of Federal troops, under Maj. Robert Anderson, watched rather than garrisoned the forts in Charleston Harbor. Of these. Fort Moultrie, though the older and weaker, was mainly tenanted by the soldiers, being the more convenient to tla' city; but it could not have been held a daj' against a serious assault. Its garrison found themselves sud- denly surrounded by scowling, deadly foes, too nu- merous to be resisted. During the night of the 26th, Maj. Anderson properly and prudently transferred liis entire command to Fort Sumter, taking with them, or after them, all provisions, munitions, etc., that could conveniently be transported. The removal was efleeted by means of two schooners, which made sev- eral trips during the night, passing directly by the harbor guard-boat, .Vma, and affecting no conceal- ment. A full moon was shining in a clear sky. When all that could be had been removed, the remaining gun-carriages, etc., were burnt, so as to prevent their use in any future attack upon Sumter. No resistance was otiered ; perhaps none of a serious nature could have been, for Maj. Anderson's act was evidently un- anticipated in Charleston ; but it was gravely com- jjlaincd of as a breach of faith — Piesident Buchanan, it was implied, rather than distinctly alleged, having promised that the military status should not be clianged, without due notice. The news of Ander- son's movement sent a thrill through the hearts of many, who felt that we were silently drifting toward a'sea of fraternal blood. Almost simultaneously with this transfer, a popular excitement was aroused in Pittsburg, Pa., by infor- mation that an order had been received from the War Department for an extensive transfer of arms, es- pecially of heavy ordnance, from the Alleghany Ar- senal, near that place, to the South and Southwest. That such transfers had been quietly going on for months, did not reconcile the stanch Republicans of our American Birmingham to further operations of the kind, now palpably in the interest of Southern treason. A public meeting was called, dispatches sent to Washington, and an order obtained suspending the meilitated transfer. The citizens' meeting was held ■on the evening of the 'iTtb, and its resolves, while they dej)recate!."),000,()00, to say nothing of ^40,000,000 expended in driving the Indians from her swamps; and Texas, directly and indirectly, more than $t>(io,o()(),000, and to suppose that these States, as soon as they had pocketed the money of the Gov- ernment, rould withdraw, and set up for themselves, was the climax of absurdity. More than this, to whom did the Mississippi river belong, if it did not to the whole Union? The whole discussion, how- ever, was a waste of In-eath, for the doctrine of seces- sion, as explained by the South, was never acted upon by them. They advocated it to justify rebellion. The right of rebellion under unbearable oj)pression, can never be vitiated by former compacts, however strong, nor by favors, how great soever they may have been. If the right of secession be granted, it can take place only in the form, and by the legal process that characterized the formation of the compact. The State wishing to withdraw, must present herself be- fore the confederation, and proceed with the same formality and respectfulness she did when she entered it, and be bound by the same decision of the parlies concerned. If her claim is refused she must acquiesce, no matter how great the wrong done her. or then fall back on the right of secession. This the South never proposed to do, and to say that any Stite, when she entered the Confederacy, reserved to herself the right, whenever she saw fit, to rush to arms, seize the forts and soldiers, and post-offices, and mints, and ships of the United States, is a falsehood on the face of it, too gross to need a reply. And yet this is just what the Southern States did. It is, therefore, as before re- marked, a waste of breath to argue a question on which no action was ever taken — to discuss a right it was never proposed to claim. The South rushed into rebellion, and unless their act can be justified on the ground that they were greviously oppressed, and had exhausted every peaceable means to obtain redress, as we did previous to our revolt against the mother country, even, as we asserted, " prostrating ourselves at the foot of the throne " in vain appeals, they stand convicted of a crime too heinous to be expressed in language, and which will grow blacker with the lapse of time, till "the memory of the wicked shall rot." If the above succinct narrative of events be correct, it is easy to see that it will be vain for either the North or South to jirove itself entirely guiltless before impartial history. The great moral difference between 14 THE REBELLION. them is — the former never contemplated lifting its hand against the Government, while the latter de- liberately precipitated us into the horrors of civil war. The former were unwise in their action and recldess in the manner in which they carried out their politi- cal scheines — che latter were traitors in' heart, con- spirators while professing loyalty, and open rebels at last. This statement, of course, refers to the leaders. The majority of the Southern people were doubtless deceived, and believed they were in danger of subju- gation, and all the horrors attending a sudden eman- cipation of the slaves. To return to our summary of events, which brought us to the close of February, when a Southern Confed- eracy was formed, and the Border States were vacilla- ting between the North and South, we come to the arrival of President Lincoln in Washington, February 23, to be inaugurated President of the United States. When he left Springfield, 111., the place of his resi- dence, a large crowd assembled to witness his depar- ture, and express their sympathy with him in the perilous duties before him. In a short speech he ex- pressed his thanks and desired their prayers, to which their hearty response was, " W^e will pray for you." The eyes of the nation were turned towards him in his progress, and every word he uttered to the differ- ent assemblages on the way, was carefully noted down and commented on. He spoke confidently and hopefully, saying all the disturbance visible was "only an artificial excitement.^' His utterances, though pleasing to many, gave rise to gloomy fore- bodings in the more thoughtful, who had been anx- iously waiting for some one to assume the reins of government that had measured the length, and breadth, and depth, and height of the gigantic rebel- lion, — who would treat it as a terrible reality. In the meantime, rumors had been circulated that he would be assassinated ou the way, or if he suc- ceeded in reaching the Capital, an organized mob would prevent- his inauguration and seize the city. General Scott, in command tiiere, had been informed of the plans of the conspirators, and took measures to defeat them. The President elect, however, had considered these rumors as exaggerations, and proceeded with his family without anticipating any trouble. But when he reached Philadelphia, he entered a different atmos- phere, and began to awake as from a dream. His honest heart, incapable of guile, or even of conceiving such monstrous atrocity, was compelled at last to ad- mit the terrible truth, that American citizens sought his life, for no other crime, than that of obeying the voice of the people and assuming the office to which their votes had elected Him ; and when he reached Harrisburg he left his family behind, and anticipat- ing the train which was to take him, proceeded in disguise by a special train to Washington. That a constitutionally-elected President of the United States, should be compelled to steal into the National Cap- ital, like a criminal, in order to enter upon his office, smote every loyal citizen like a personal disgrace. Had it been fully believed beforehand, a half a mililon of men would have volunteered to escort him there. The fourth of March, 18C1, came without violence, and Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated President of . the United States. His message was everywhere read withr the deepest anxiety. Its moderate tone gratified reasonable men, though many felt the want of any stirring appeal to the patriotism of the people. Still, the closing paragraphs, "I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be ene- mies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle field and patriot's grave to every living heart and liearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature," struck a chord of sympathy in every heart. Still, kind and appeal- ing as these words were, it showed that he had not yet comprehended the full measure of liuman wicked- ness connected with the rebellion. This is, jjerhaps, not strange, for the same delusion seemed to rest on those who were to be his chief advisers. Mr. Seward, as late as the latter part of December, had said that in "sixty days" we should have a "brighter and more cheerful atmosphere." Those who designed to inflict no wrong, and be guilty of no injustice, could not comprehend the existence of such madness and ferocity as seemed to characterize the Southern dis- unionists. Tliree days after, Peter G. T. Beauregard, late Major in the engineer corps of the United States, was ordered by the Southern Confedci'acy, to take com- maud of the forces in Cliarleston, destined to act against Fort Sumter ; and two weeks later, supplies were cut off from Fort Pickens, Florida. The President, in forming his Cabinet, seemed not to comprehend the extent of the danger that threatened the llepublic. The selection of Mr. Sew- ard as Secretary of State was regarded as a wise meas- ure. But Mr. Cameron's claims to the responsible TITK IJKl'.EIJJOX. 15 jwsition of Secretary of AViir were baseil princiiwlly on political considerations. Mr. Holt luul manfully stood between the country and ruin, and was well ((ualilied for the duties of that position. The Presi- dent, in his trying situation, needed the sympathy of all parties, and should have disregarded the clamor that sought only party ends ; and would have been justified in retaining Mr. Ilolt. The united patri- otism of the North, and a change in the course of the administration. aloTie saved the country from the incalculable evils which would otlu'rwisc have resulted frcini a misconception of its true condition, and the distribution of political rewards. In the meantime, a State Convention of Virginia had been called, to take into consideration the proj)or course for her to pursue in the pending crisis, and commissioners were appointed to confer with the President on his future policy. The Southern Con- federacy had also sent commissioners to propose terms of adjustment, without resorting to war. To the former the President made a short reply, doing little more than reaffirming the policy he had proclaimed in his message. The latter he refused to receive in their alleged capacity as commissioners from an inde- pendent Government, for it would be recognizing the Southern Confederacy of seven States. The Southern leaders had managed their cause with a great deal of adroitness. To the extreme South, they had spoken in glowing terms of the ad- vantages of an Independent Confederacy. To Vir- ginia, they had described the evils she would suffer in case of a civil war, which was sure to follow should the General Government attempt coercion of the revolted States, until she insisted that the only condition on which she could stand by the Union was, that no coercion should be attempted. The conspir- ators knew that this would never be granted. To Kentucky, they pointed to the rejected resolutions of Mr. Critenden, looking to a peaceful solution of the diUiculties. To Maryland — which, more than any other State, had cause to dread a civil war, should she join her fortunes with the South — the commis- sioners from Mississippi used the following mild lan- guage : " Secession is not intended to break up the present Government, but to perpetuate it. We do not propose to go out by way of breaking up or de- stroying the Union as our fathers gave it to us, but we go out for the purpose of getting further guarantees and security for our rights ; not by a convention of all the Southern States, nor by congressional tricks, which have failed in time j)a.st and will fall again. But our plan is for the Southern States to withdraw from the Union for the present, to allow amendments to the Constitution to be made, guaranteeing our just rights ; and if the Northern States will not make these amendments, by which these rights shall be secured to us, then we must secure them the best way we can. This ques- tion of slavery must be settled now or never," etc. Nothing could have been more plausible or apparently just than this. It is not surprising thai the j)eople of Maryland were deceived by these representations, for many Northern men were. The truth was, the Southern disunionists did not wish war, and they did not believe it would happen. The state of their finan- cies would not sanction it, to say nothing of the dubious result of a collision with the colossal power of the North, backed by her navy. The surest way to prevent this, they believed, would be to make the contest appear equal as possible, bj' getting the en- tire South to act in unison. Then the North would shrink from the appalling evils of a civil war, and grant them their independence. To secure this they were willing to stoop to any deception, and appar- ently consent to any measure the Border States might propose. But events were rapidly hastening to. a crisis. Maj. Anderson stubbornly refused to strike his flag to the Southern Confederacy. It is true, star- vation would soon compel the humiliating act. But whether Davis, impelled by an insane spirit of re- venge, or, foreseeing that war was inevitable, con- cluded it was best to precipitate it at once ; or whether the blustering, arrogant spirit of South Caro- lina forced him to the measure; or whether he feared our fleet, which had arrived oil' the mouth of the har- bor, might force a passage, we know not ; he refused to wait the sure and speedy work of famine, and de- termined to open his guns upon it. Notwithstanding the State had openly revolted, Mr. Buchanan had allowed the most formidable works to be constructed around the fort, refusing to give his sanction to Maj. Anderson to prevent their completion. With his heavy artillery, he could easily have kept the sur- rounding shores clear, but not a shot was permitted to be fired. This brave commander, with his little garrison of seventy-five men, saw, month after month, the frowning batteries rise around him, preparatory to opening their concentrated fire ujion him. The bat- teries lining the entrance to the harbor had long since cut him oflf from all hope of reinforcements and sup- jilies by sea, while not a pound of food could reach him from the liostile shore. Without orders to 16 THE REBELLION. abandon it, and without permission to stop the preparations going on for his overthrow, he had been compelled, day after day, and week after week, to sit still and watch the steadily rising fortifications destined to effect his humilia- tion. A more trying and cruel position a commander could not be placed in. At length the work of prep- aration was completed — the bomb-proof batteries at Fort Moultrie and on Sullivan's Island ready, and the floating battery in its place, with their grim col- umbiads pointing on the devoted garrison — and with that patience and serene confidence springing from the consciousness of having discharged his duty, and a firm reliance on Heaven, which had characterized him throughout, he now waited the coming storm. To the summons of Beauregard to surrender, he re- turned the calm reply that neither his "sense of honor" nor " obligations to his Government" would permit him to comply. Knowing tliat in a few days famine would compel tlie surrender of the fort, Beauregard, under instructions from L. P. Walker, the rebel Secretary of War, proposed to refrain from bombarding it, if he would fix a day when he would evacuate it. Bold and bad as he was, he hesitated to open a war which should drench the nation in blood. Anderson, looking over his scanty supply of jirovis- ions, replied that if no supplies reached him, or no orders to the contrary were received from his Gov- ernment by the fifteenth (his letter was dated April twelfth), he would then surrender the fort. Not liking the conditions attached to this promise, though it was difficult to see how the beleagured little garrison could get either orders or provisions, Beauregard, the same day, at half past three o'clock in the morning, sent woi'd that in one hour he would " open the fire of his batteries on Port Sumter." * CHAPTER III. April, 18(il. Punctual to the appointed moment, the roar of a mortar froin Sullivan's Island; quickly followed by the rushing shriek of a shell, gave notice to the world that the era of compromise and diplomacy was ended — that the Slaveholder's Confederacy had ap- pealed from sterile negotiations to the last argument of aristocracies as well as kings. Another gun from that island quickly repeated the warning, making a response from battery after battery, until Sumter ap- peared the focus of a circle of volcanic fire, and the broad glare from the blazing guns, and bursting shells traversing the air in every direction and cross- ing in a fiery net-work over the doomed fort, heralded in the day. Anderson and his little band sat quietly within their stronghold, listening unmoved to the wild hurricane without, till the sun had climbed the heavens. The ponderous balls of the enemy were knocking loudly for admittance without, but not a shot had been fired in return. At half-past six, the mere handful within sat quietly down to their break- fast, and finished their meal as leisurely as though preparing for a parade. They were then divided into three reliefs — the first under command of Capt. Doubleday — and the men ordered to their places. Soon the order to fire was given, and the ominous si- lence that had so long reigned round that dark struc- ture was broken, and a sheet of flame ran along its sides. Gun now answered gun in quick succession, and for the next four hours the heavy, deafening ex- plosions were like a continuous clap of thunder. Forty-seven mortars and large cannon directed their fire against the fort, and shot and shell beat upon it, and burst within and over it incessantly. The heavy explo.sions called out the inhabitants of Charleston in crowds, and the housetops and shores were lined with excited spectators, gazing earnestly over tlie water, where the tossing clouds of smoke obscured the sky. Every portion of the fortress was searched by the ene- my's fire, and loosened bricks and mortar were soon flying in every direction. It was impossible to serve the guns en barbette, and they were knocked to pieces one after another by the shot and shells that swept the crest of the ramparts. These were the only guns that could throw shells, and hence Anderson was able to reply to the enemy only with solid shot. These, in most cases, thundered harmlessly on the solid works of the enemy, or glanced from their iron sides. The barracks again and again caught fire, but each time were extinguished, chiefly through the energy and daring of Mr. Hart, a New York volunteer. The cart- ridges were soon exhausted, when the men made them of their shirt-sleeves. Noon came, and the soldiers were served with their meagre dinner at the guns, snatching a hasty bite of the last of their hard biscuit and salt pork, and then calmly went to their work again. During this tremendous cannonading. Major THE RKHEMJON. 17 Anderson and liis oflicers coolly watolu'd iliroUf;li their f^lasses the etl'ect of the shot, and ever and anon turned their eyes anxiously towards the mouth of the harbor, where our succoring fleet lay, not daring to run the gaunllol of batteries that stretched between tlieni and the fort. Thus the toilsome day wore away, and as darkness enveloped the scene, Anderson, being no longer able to observe the effect of his shots, ordered the port-holes to be closed, when the tiring ceased and the men lay down to rest. The enemy, however, did not remit his attack, and all uight long his ponderous shot kept smiting the solid walls of the fort, and his shells, whose course could be seen by their long trains of light, drojjped incessantly amund aud within the silent structure. Early on Saturday morning, the little garrison was again at work, and gun answered gun in quick re- sponse. The barracks, for the fourth time, took fire, but the attempts to put it out, as before, were soon found to be fruitless, for the hot shot of the enemy, dropping incessantly among the combustible materials, kept the Uames alive, and in a short time the raging conflagration within became more terrible than the hurricane of shot without. The whole garrison was called from the guns to save the magazine, and bar- rels of powder were rolled through the smoke and embers to a place of safety. Ninety-six barrels had been thus removed, when the heat became too great to continue the work, and it was abandoned, and the magazine locked to await its destiny. The fire raged uncontrolled, and the smoke, driven downward by the wind, filled all the interior of the fort, so that the men could no longer see each other. Choked by the stifling air, they flung themselves on the ground, and throwing wet handkerchiefs and cloths over their mouths aud eyes, lay and gasped for breath. The last biscuit had been eaten the day before — the walls were crumbling around them — the main gate had been burned down, leaving an open passage to an ad- vancing force, and it was evident to all that the con- test was a hopeless one. Still, Anderson stood un- moved amid the wreck, and refused to strike his colors. The cartridges were nearly exhausted — the magazine could not be reached for more powder, — yet, now and then, a shot was fired to let the fleet outside, and the enemy, know they had not surren- dered. To add to the horrors of their i)osition, the shells aud amunition in the upper service magazine caught fire and exploded with a frightful crash, send- ing splintered beams and blazing fragments in every direction, and adding ten-fold to the terror of the coiilhigration that was raging in every ])art of the inclosure. This went on hour after hour, the men being compelled to work with wet cloths over their mouths. At length the fire approached the men's quarters, where the barrels of powder that had been taken from the magazine lay exposed. The soldiers rushed through the flames with wet blankets, and covered them over; but the heat soon became so in- tense that it was feared they would take fire and blow up the fort, and they were rolled through the embrasures into the sea, till all but three were gone, which were piled over tliickly with wet blankets. Only three cartridges were now left, and these were in the guns. At this crisis the flag-staff was shot away. The flag was brought in, after having been shot down, by Lieutenant Hall, but was afterwards (by order of Major Anderson) planted on the ramparts by Lieutenants Snyder and Hart, who nailed it to the flag-staff, where it con- tinued to wave defiantly. A few minutes after this ■ occurred, a man was seen at an embrasure with a white flag tied to his sword. It was Wigfall, late Senator from Texas, who had come from Port Moul- trie, and now desired admittance. Entering through into the casement, he exclaimed in an excited man- ner that he came from General Beauregard, that he saw the flag of the fort was down, adding: "Let us stop this firing." "No, sir," replied Lieutenant Da- vis, "the flag is not down; step out this way and you will see it waving from the ramparts." General Wig- fall then asked that some one should hold his white flag outside the walls. "No, sir," replied the gallant Lieutenant, "we don't raise a white flag; if you want your batteries to stop, you must stop them yourself." Wigfall then held the flag out of the embrasure. As soon as he did so, Lieutenant ]1;ivis ordered a cor- poral to relieve him, as it was not the act of the fort, but of Wigfall. But the cannon-balls continuing to strike around the corporal, he exclaimed with an oath: "I won't hold that flag; they don't respect it." Wigfall replied: "They fired at me three or four times, and I should think you ought to stand it once." He then placed the flag outside of the em- brasure and sought Major Anderson. Wigfall intro- duced himself by saying, "I am General Wigfall, and come from General Beauregard, who wishes to stop this." Anderson, whose usually quiet blood had, in the terrific bomb;irdmeut of these two days, got fairly roused, rose on his toes, and, as he came down with a sudden jar on his heels, replied, " Well, sir!" "Major Anderson," said the former, " vou have defended vour 18 THE KEBELLIOlSr. flag nobly, sir — you have done all that is possible for men to do, and General Beauregard wishes to stop the fight. On what terms will you evacuate this fort ?'" "General Beauregard is already acquainted with my only terms," was the calm reply. "Do I understand," replied Wigfall, "that you will evacuate upon the terms proposed the other day?" "Yes, sir," said the Major, "and on those con- ditions only." "Very well," Wigfall replied, and retired. A short time after, a deputation of four officers arrived, sent by General Beauregard, and asked for an interview with Major Anderson, when it turned out that Wigfall had acted entirely on his own responsibility, and without even the knowledge of Beauregard. Seeing the state of things. Major An- derson remarked that it put him in a peculiar posi- tion, and the flag must be hoisted again. After some conversation, however, they requested him to put in writing what Wigfall had said to him, and they would lay it before General Beauregard. He did so, but be- fore the statement beached the rebel General, he had sent the Adjutant-General, and members of his staff, to propose the same terms on which Major Anderson had consented to go out, with the exception of being allowed to salute his flag. They asked him if he would not dispense with the salute. He replied <« jfo," — he would, however, leave the question open for conference. They returned with the reply, and shortly after an officer came over, saying that the terms first proposed were accepted. What motive had prompted General Wigfall to vol- unteer his services, and take upon himself the respon- sibility of negotiating for Beauregard, is not known. It is but charitable, however, to suppose that the feelings of a man had been aroused in him at sight of that burning, fort, within which a mere handful of men had for thirty-four hours borne the concentrated fire of four powerful batteries, and which, though unable to return only an occasional shot, and wrai)ped in a fierce conflagration, still refused to yield. It was a sight to move the pity of any thing human. Thus fell Fort Sumter ; and the opening act of the most fearful tragedy the world has ever seen, had closed. The people of Charleston seemed utterly oblivious of the true character and swift results of this first act of violence, and were wild with enthusi- asm and joy. Already, in the ardent imagination of her chivalry, the Confederacy had established its in- dependence beyond dispute, and was about to con- quer and lay waste the degenerate, cowardly North- Beauregard was a hero — indeed, all were heroes. They had succeeded in firing the train, and now danced in the flickering light it emitted, unconscious that the fitful blaze was on its way to a magazine, the explo- sion of which would shake the continent. The Koman Catholic bisliop ordered a Te Deuvi to be chanted in honor of the victory, and the Episcopal bishop, though blind and feeble, declared that the re- sistance was obedience to God. On Monday morning preparations for the evacua- tion commenced. But first, the only man killed dur- ing the terrible bombardment, a private by the name of Daniel Hough, who lost his life by the bursting of a cannon, was buried with military honors. When this was done, and the baggage all on board the transport, a portion of the little band who stood under arms within the battered fort, were tolled off as gunners, to fire the one hundred guns as a salute to the flag. At the fiftieth discharge a permature ex- plosion killed one man, and wounded three more — one, seriously. When the last gun was fired, the handful of heroes marched out, the band playing "Yankee Dodle" and "Hail to the Chief." Vast crowds were collected in the vicinity to witness this last ceremony, little dreaming what it foreboded. That night the troops remained on board the Isabel, and the next morning were transferred to the Baltic, and started for New York. Though South Carolina had long before declared herself out of the Union, both postal and telegraphic communication was kept up with Charleston, and never did the electric wires of the country quiver with news so pregnant with the fate of a great nation, as those which kept registering the progress of the bom- bardment. And when at last the news came that the Stars and Stripes had been lowered to the insolent, rebellious State, the nation was struck dumb with indignation and amazement. The first eSect was stunning, paralyzing, and the North seemed to hold its breath in suspense. But it was the slow settling back of the billow, as it gathers.to break in thunder on the shore. The North had hitherto been divided. The Democrats and those opposed to the Republican party had sympathized with the South in their in- dignation at the triumph of a faction whose battle- cry had been hostility to an institution that was in-\ woven into the very structure of its society. Every- where threats had been heard that if the Republican party endeavored by an unconstitutional act to carry out its hostility to slavery, there would be an upris Till-; i;i:i{i:i,i,i()\. Ill ing at the North. So bitter was this feeling, that many rejoiced at the serious difTiculties and embar- rassments their sectional vit'tory had involved them in. Indeed, it was clear to the careful observer, that if the South managed discreetly, the party would have more trouble at the North than at the South. What course would this powerful opposition take now, was a question fraught with life and death to the admin- istration. But there was no time given for arguments and appeals and attempts to conciliate. Political animosities vanished, party lines disappeared, and all opposition went down like barriers of mist before the rising patriotism of the people. Though the Democrats believed the spirit of the compact origin- ally made between the North and South, had been broken by the formation and success of the Republi- can party, and that its very existence was contrary to the spirit of the Constitution, and a violation of good faith — though they felt it meditated a great wrong on the weaker portion of the Republic, they suddenly forgot it all. The flag, our boast and pride, the emblem of our nationality and record of our glory, had been assailed by traitorous hands and trailed in the dust at their bidding. All minor differ- ences disappeared before this gigantic wrong, and from the Atlantic to the broad praries of the West there went up one loud cry for vengeance. The President, who, with his administration, had seemed to be laboring under a strange credulity, seeing State after State throw ofl" its allegiance, and forts and arsenals one after another seized by the rebels with a calm composure, as though all those high-handed acts were mere parts of a stage play, and meant noth- ing more than the talk about secession and a bloody revolt that had characterized the political campaign of the autumn previous, was at last aroused liy the thunder of cannon at Fort Sumter. The President at length saw that this was not merely an " artiiicial ex- citement," and the "sixty days" which the Secretary of State prophesied were to bring a more " cheerful state of things," had, instead, brought " bloody war." The very next day after Fort Sumter hud surren- dered, the President issued a proclamation, calling for seventy-five thousand volunteers for three months, to protect the capital and secure the proiierty of the Government seized by the rebels, and commiinding all those in arms to return to their homes in twenty days. It also summoned Congress to meet on the 4th of July. It was calm in its tone, and reserved- in the claims put forth. It contained no appeal to the patriotism of the peoi)le, being almost exclusively confined to a statement of the rights of the Ocneral Government over its own property, which it would be the duty of the army to take from the rebels after the safety of the capital wiis secured. It was fortunate that the aroused people of the North needed no stimulus, and their instincts no in- structions respecting the true issue that had been forced upon them. This proclamation, which could not have been more carefully worded, or have said less, was received throughout the Soutli as a declara- tion of war. At the North, although it was a con- fession that civil war had commenced, it was received with one loud shout of approval, that showed that the Union was not to be destroyed without a struggle that should drench the land in blood. Enthusiastic meetings were held in every part of the North. Nearly all of the free States this side of the Uocky Mountains had Republican Governors and Legisla- tures, who vied with each others in proffers of men, money, munitions, and everything that could be needed to vindicate the authority and maintain the integrity of the Fnion. The only Governor not elected as a Rei)ublican was William Sprague, of Rhode Island — an independent Conservative — who not merely raised promptly the quota required of him, but volunteered to lead it to Wasliington, or wherever its services might be required. No State was more prompt and thorough in her response, and none sent her troops into the field more completely armed and serviceably equipjjed, than did Rhode Lsland. Among the privates in her first regiment was one worth a million dollars, who destroyed the passage tipket he had bought for a voyage to Europe, on a tour of ob- servation and i)leasure, to shoulder his musket in de- fense of his country and her laws. At Philadelphia, New York, Boston, Cincinnati, Pittsburg, and almost every large place, money was raised for the volunteers and their families. Legislatures made large appro- priations, and :il)uudant means seemed at the disposal of the General Government to put a speedy end to the rebellion. The call on tlie slave States still in the Union, for their jiroportion of the army of seventy-five thousand men, was received in a very different spirit. (Gover- nor Magoffin, of Kentucky, replied: "Kentucky will furnish no troops for the wicked jjurpose of subduing her sister Southern States." Governor Letcher, of Virginia: "The militia will not be furnished to the powers of Washington for any such use or purpose as thev have in view." (Jovcruor Kills, of North Caro- lina, in a more gniuded tone, telegraphed to the 20 THE RKBELTJON. President that he could not respond to the call, as he had doubts of his authority under the Constitu- tion to make it. Similar responses came from Ten- nessee, Arkansas, and other States. Maryland and Delaware were the only exceptions to a peremptory refusal. Governor Hicks, of the former State, would raise troops only for the defense of Washing- ton, and not for any other purpose. Little Dela- ware took her place without hesitation beside tlie loyal States. Throughout the North the love of the old flag suddenly became a passion, and the stars and stripes draped ev6ry street and waved from every church spire. Patriotic songs were iu every mouth, and the regiments gathering to their places of rendez- vous, or streaming through the cities towards Wash- ington, were greeted by shouting crowds ; and the general feeling was like that which accompanies a triumphal march. Civil war was an evil we had never contemplated — besides, we had been taught so long to regard it as a political bugbear, a mere party menace, that we looked upon it with little or no alarm. More than this, the North had been told so long by unscrupulous politicians that the South dare not fight — that at the first call to arms the slaves would rush into insurrection, — that they really be- liev'ed at the first show of determination, the South would decline the contest. The people at the South had been beguijed in the same manner by their leaders — they had been assured, over and over again, that the money-loving North would never go to war with the source of their wealth — a race of shop- keepers would never fight for a sentiment, and if they attempted it, would be crushed at the first onset by the chivalrous, warlike South. Thus the two sections were hurried, through ignorance and blind presump- tion, towards all the untold horrors of civil war. It was plain to every one who had studied the history of nations carefully, that this blind confidence on both sides was doomed to a terrible disappointment. The Proclamation of the President was met on the part of Mr. Davis, of the Southern Confederacy, by one calling on the Southern States for volunteers, and also for persons to take out letters of marque as pri- vateers, to prey on the commerce of the North. The call for volunteers was responded to with the same alacrity as that of President Lincoln had been, and the same enthusiasm was exhibited. Like the North, they thought there might be some conquering, but there would be little fighting. With many, however, especially the more religious class, a different feeling prevailed. They had been told, and they believed, that the seventy-five thousand men summoned to the field by President Lincoln, were not designed for the defense of Washington, but to commence the work of emancipation by direct invasion of their soil, and hence rushed to arms under the full belief that they were called upon to defend their homes, and fire- sides, and all they held dear. Immediately on the issue of the President's proc- lamation, Virginia, which had long been wavering, through her convention elected to determine the mattier, declared herself out of the Union. It is more than probable that this was done by direct fraud — at least intimidation was used. Her best men, among them John Minor Botts, fought against it to the last. It is difficult to say what motives prompted the leaders in this State to such a suicidal course. The western part was known to be loyal, and certainly a large minority of the eastern. Besides, iu the issue of war, whichever side should succeed, she was cer- tain to constitute the chief battle ground, and must be ruined in the contest. It is j)ossible that, proud from her traditions, and over-estimating her imjjort- ance in the Union, she really believed that by casting her lot in with the Southern Confederacy, she secured the co-operation of every Southern State, and thus made the contest so even that the North would not attemj)t coercion ; while the magnitude of the I'ebel- lion would at once secure the recognition of foreign powers. Thus civil war would be prevented alto- gether. The Government at this crisis was suirounded with difficulties calculated to bewilder the strongest minds. Treason was on every side, and it knew not where to strike, nor had it the means to plant the blows it knew should be given. Everything had been thrown into chaos, and, in the whirlpool of conflicting ele- ments, neither the President nor the Cabinet seemed to know what to do. It was a state of things never anticipated, and hence wholly unprovided for. Mr. Lincoln felt himself wholly at sea, while unfortunately the two Cabinet officers on whom the nation must chiefly rely, had not been selected for their fitness to meet such a crisis. Mr. Cameron, the Secretary of War, soon proved this to the satisfaction of the coun- try and the President. The Secretary of the Navy, though a man of probity and true patriotism, could not be expected, from his limited experience in naval matters, to give, at once, this arm of the Government its full efficiency. At all events, he w^as much blamed for a heavy disaster following the fall of Fort Sumter, The navy yard at Norfolk was the largest and the TirK ItKHKIJilON. 31 most important one in the country. To the rebels it was of vital importance, lor notwithstanding the thefts of Floyil, while Secretary of War, the South was deficient in heavy cannon, and hero were gatliercd a vast number, some of tliem of the largest caliber. Virginia had seceded, and her (iovernor had sum- moned the people to anus, and it was {)lain to the sim])lest mind that tlie navy yard located on her soil would be the first object she would attempt to grasp, and yet sufficient precaution was not taken to prevent the catastrophe. The Secretary of the Navy seemed to think its surrender a foregone conclusion, and in- tent only on saving the vessels there, ordered Com- modore McCauley to remove them to a place of safety. When he found it was not done, he dis])atched Commodore Paulding to take his place. When the latter arrived, he found that they were being destroyed, the Merrimnc and other ships having already been scuttled. Seeing this would not prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy, he applied the torch to them and what other public property he could, and abandoned the place. The Cumberland, towed down by the tug YnnLec, escaped, only eventually to meet a worse fate than burning, from her former consort the Merrimac. The country, enraged, asked why the ships did not shell the batteries the enemy were erecting in the neighborhood, and the place itself, and leave them aheap of smoking ruins, and destroy the guns. Instead of this, we succeeded in scuttling and firing the Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Columbus, each seventy four guns ; the Memmac and Columbia, forty four ; the i?arith of April, and Harper's Ferry on the 18th. Events were marching with fearful rapidity ; the hands of the Government were tied for the want of means to carry out its plans, and it knew not where to look for loyal men. But with six weeks (the time since inaugura- tion of the President) in which to gather its ener- gies, it might have done something. The fault was, that those six weeks had been wasted in listening to the claims of politicians greedy for places. With the lightning rending the clouds that were rolling up the .angry heavens, and the thunder brejik- ing on every side, the administ-ration calndy devoted itself to the filling of offices. All this time the reb- els were at work. CHAPTER IV. Apkil, 1861. While indecision was thus characterizing the Gov- ernment at Washington, patriotism and a stern deter- mination to settle the quarrel by the bayonet were rousing the jicople of the North, and it was soon evi- dent that a i)ower was gathering that the Govern- ment must control and let loose on the rebellion, or it would go down before it. To a thoughtful man, this indecision of the administration on the one hand, and this tremendous energy and purpose of the people on the other, were calculated to awaken seri- ous alarm. The i)eople had forgotten politics, and were fully aroused to the danger of the country. The regi- ments kei)t pouring in, but, relying on the Govern- ment to provide for their wants, were ill supplied with the things necessary to their comfort and efficiency. Seeing this state of things, a Union Defense Commit- tee was formed in New York to supply the troopi 22 THE REBELIJON. with necessary means. But politicians, greedy of gain, soon assumed the control of its affairs in order to fill their own pockets. General Wool, who came to New York to direct matters, attempted to put a stop to the wasteful extravagance, but through the efforts of these same politicians, who had an influ- ence with the Government at Washington, was sent home to Troy in disgrace. Contractors all over the country took advantage of the general enthusiasm to rob the public treasury, and, unmolested by the Secre- tary of War, experienced no difficulty in amassing wealth out of the public necessities. The people had no eyes for these gigantic swindling operations — they saw only their country's flag in danger, and were pressing to its defense. From east to west arose the murmur of gathering hosts. Massachusetts and Rhode Island, Qhio, Illinois, and Indiana, and the far West, moved simultaneously. The Massachusetts Sixth led the van, and four days after the President's proclamation was issued were entering Baltimore. Threats had been uttered that Northern troops should not be allowed to pass through the city to the Capi- tal, which was now threatened on every side. Patrols were kept up night and day over the long bridge — cannon commanding its passage — the Government, under the veteran and patriot Scott, was securing itself as best it could with its limited means, anxious- ly looking northward for the troops hastening to its defense. The Massachusetts Sixth, occui^ying eleven cars, reached Baltimore on the 19th of April, and proceeded quietly though the streets, drawn by horses, to the depot on the farther side. As they advanced, the crowd, which had been collected, steadily increased, so that the horses could hardly effect a passage through it. Soon, shouts and yells, mingled with threats, arose on every side, followed by stones, brick-bats, and other missiles, which rained in a perfect shower on the cars, smashing the windows and wounding the soldiers within. The latter, how- ever, made no resistance, but kept quietly on their way, and nine of the cars reached the depot in safety and started for Washington. The two remaining cars, carrying about one hundred, where thus cut off from the main body and hemmed in by some eight thou- sand infuriated men. At this moment news came that the Pennsylvania volunteers had arrived, and were about to follow the Massachusetts regiment. This increased the excitement, and the Massachusetts troops, finding the cars could not go on, came out, and forming in a solid square, with fixed bayonets, and at the double quick, l)egan to advance. The Mayor of Baltimore, who had in vain endeavored to keep the peace, and a strong detachment of police, marched at the head of the troops, opening a way before them through the vast and angry crowd. Missiles poured upon them from every quarter, and, in some cases, heavy pieces of iron were cast out of second and third- story windows upon their heads. One man was crushed down by one of these iron billets, The front of the column received little injury, but the rioters closed in upon and attempted to cut off a portion of the rear, which, being hardly pressed, was at length ordered to fire, and the order was obeyed. Several volleys were fired by a small portion of the regiment, whereby eleven of the mob were killed and four severely wounded- Of the soldiers, three were slain and eight seriously injured. Most of the remaining volunteers reached the Washington depot and crowded into the cars, which were dispatched as soon as pos- sible for Washington. Fifteen of the soldiers who went on with their comrades were so injured by the missiles that, on reaching the capital, they were sent, to the hospital. The train was repeatedly fired at from the hills and woods along the route, but at too great distance to do harm. At the Jackson bridge, it was stopped by the removal of several rails, which were promptly relaid, under the protection of the troops. The Pennsylvanians were left behind, and, being entirely unarmed. Gen. Small decided that they should not proceed. He attempted to have the cars in which they remained drawn back out of the city, but without immediate success. Soon a portion of the mob, desisting from the pursuit of the Massa- chusetts men, turned upon these, and commenced a violent stoning of the cars, whereby the windows were broken and several men severely injured. The Pennsylvanians sprang from the cars and engaged in a hand-to-haud fight with their assailants, being aided to some extent by Baltimore Unionists. An irregular fight was here kept up for nearly two hours, during which ten or twelve soldiers were badly hurt, and one or two killed. Finally, Police Marshall Kane appeared on the ground, and, being very influential with the secessionist, soon stopped the fight; when the Pennsylvanians, returning to the cars, were started on the back track to Philadelphia, where they arrived late that night. The news of this murderous outrage filled the North with boundless rage, and the universal cry was to lay the city in ashes, if necessary to secure a safe transit for our troops. The mob immediately took THK Tn<;i?KI,LION. 33 possession of Ilaltiiiiore, aiul the rrt'siilciit was iioli- (ied by the Mayor and Governor that no more troops would lie allowed to pass throiipli the city. But the stop]iiige of the direct route to the Capital was not to be entertained for a moment. If troops could reacli the seat of government in no other way, they must do it over heajjs of dead, and smouldering ruins. The news reached New York just before the Seventh regiment, the favorite regiment of the city, composed of some of the most intelligent and wealthy young men of the metropolis, and perfect in its appoint- ments and drill, set out. This superb body of men heard it, and took forty-eight rounds of cartridges to clear a passage for themselves. Others regiments followed, and a bloody tight was expected in Balti- more. Massachusetts, in six days, responded to the Presi- dent's proclamation with live full regiments of in- fantry, a battalion of rifles and a fine corps of flying artillery. The South was ecjually alert in answering the call of Mr. Davis for volunteers, and even Ala- bama, in the same short space of time, had five thou- 8!ind ready to march for the seat of war. The same enthusiasm attended the passage of troops from l)otli sections of the country. Crowds were gathered to wit- ness their departure and herald their progress through the various towns. Flags wore presented, patriotic speeches delivered, and shouts and words of greeting and waving of handkerchiefs, and flaunting of stream- ers, made their march one great ovation. To a spectator these hostile forces appeared as if they were gathering to some grand and peaceful review, instead of being citizens of the same republic hastening to imbue their hands in each other's blood. In the meantime, all eyes at the North were turned toward Baltimore, in expectation of a bloody battle in its streets. A delegation from the young men's •' Christian Association '" of the city waited on the President, and Gov. Hicks presented a communica- tion asking that the troops might not i)ass through Maryland, and for a cessation of hostilities till a reference of the national dispute could be made to Lord Lyons, the British minister to the United States, at Washington. The President, through the Secretary of State, replied that our troubles could not be referred to a foreign arbitrament, and that the Commander-in-Chief had decided that the troops must come through to Washington — there was no alternative. The dreaded collision was prevented by the troops stopping at Havre de Grace, and taking steamers for .\nnapolis. Gen. B. F. Butler had taken his regi- ment by this route, and there the New York Seventh joined it and were placed under the command of that ollicer. Here wore the Naval Academy and the noble old frigate Comlitution ; the latter without a crew, and in danger of falling at any moment into the hands of the enemy. This he at once secured. On the morning of the 34lh — several other regi- ments having meantime arrived — General Butler put his column in motion, the Massachusetts Eighth in advance, closely followed by the New York Seventh. They kept the line of the railroad, repairing it as they advanced. A dismantled engine, which they found on the way, was refitted and put to use. The day i)roved intensely hot. Many of the men had had little or nothing to eat for a day or two, and had scarcely slept since they left Philadelphia. Some fell asleep as they marched; others fell out of the ranks, utterly exhausted; one was sunstruck, and had to be sent back, permanently disabled. Nothing to eat could be bought; and, as they did not choose to take without buying, they hungrily marched, building bridges and laying rails by turns, throughout the day and the following night. Arrived at the Annapolis Junction, the soldiers were met by cars from Wash- ington, in which they proceeded on the 25th, the New Y'ork Seventh in advance, to that city, and were hailed with rapture by it royal denizens, who com- posed, perhaps, one-half of its entire population. A feeble effort was made by Governor Hicks to prevent troops from crossing the State by this route, but a passage had been cleared, and it was ix'solved that nothing should close it. The route through Balti- more being fully reopened, and communication restored between the free States and Washington, the safety of the Capital was secured; regiment after regiment pouring into it by almost every train, until, by the end of May, not less than fifty thousand men —raw and undisciplined, indeed, but mainly of the best material for soldiers — held the line of the Potomac, or guarded the approaches to the Capital. And still, from every side, the people of the loyal States were urging more regiments upon the Govern- ment, and begging permission to swell the ranks of the Union armies, so as to match any conceivable strength of the rebels. ' Now commenced defections in the army and navy, and it was impossible to tell whom to trust. Since the war with Mexico, resignations of officers of the army belonging to the North, in order to accept more lucrative civil positions, had 2i THE REBELLION. been numeroils, while those from the South had re- tained their places. Colonel Robert E. Lee^ con- nected with the family of Washington, and a great favorite of Scott's, and who stood high in the public estimation, hesitated long before he cast his lot in with the rebels. As he sat on his piazza at Arlington House, and gazed off on the Capital, he shed bitter tears while he revolved the painful question in his mind, whether he should stand by the Union or go with his native State ; but finally felt it his duty to cast his fortunes in with the latter. In this crisis of our affairs, we first felt the full evils of the States' Rights doctrine, so long and so ably advocated by Cal- houn. We saw, too, one of tlie inherent weaknesses of our form of government. There ever will be more or less of a conflict between State sovereignty and the Confederate government. A man who holds a double allegiance — one to his State and another to the United States — will not always fix the exact line where fealty to one ends, and loyalty to the other be- gins to be paramount. To strike at one's own mother, and join those who are to invade his native soil, and help slay his own kindred and neighbors, requires a higher patriotism and loftier sense of duty than be- longs to most men. Hence, those at the South who stood the test of this terrible ordeal, and remained faithful to the National flag throughout, deserve greater honor than the most successful warrior of the North The spoiling of our goods, the entreaties and taunts of kindred and friends, imprisonment, and even death, are easier to be borne than to come as an enemy into the home of our childhood. While matters were thus assuming such a warlike aspect around Washington, the entire North became a great camp, and the sound of arms, and the strains of military bands, drowned the hum of in- dustry, and occupied the thoughts of young and old. The great Northwest was stirred like a hive, and her hardy sous gathered in uncounted thou- sands to the defense of the National flag. A similar military frenzy swept the South, and the two sections that had so long been members of the same government, now seemed impelled by a burning desire to close in mortal conflict. Hitherto, New York city, the stronghold of democracy and the emporium of the country, had not spoken. Her trade with the South had been one of her chief sources of wealth. She had also millions at stake, in the shape of debts owed by merchants and planters there. She had never been accused of fanaticism, and no sickly sentmientality or mock philanthropy characterized those who controlled her world-wide commerce. The President had issued a proclama- tion on the 19th of the month, blockading all the Southern ports, and denouncing as pirates the privateers commissioned by Jefferson Davis. The commerce of New York must stop, her Southern debts remain unpaid, and her wharves and store- houses stand idle, in order that a political faction might carry out its mad and unconstitutional schemes, was the language of the South. Would she submit to such a state of things ? was a question every- where asked, and the universal response was, " No!" The truth of this was soon to be tested, for a Union meeting was called to be held in Union Square on the 20th of April. This meeting was one of the largest ever assembled on this continent. Leading men from every part of the country. Democrats, Republicans and Whigs, joined hearts and voices, and from the uncounted tho^isands that were gatheied but one cry went up, "Down with the rebellion!" New York had at last spoken, and with bankruptcy staring her in the face, declaimed she would stand or fall with the Government. The news of this meeting was received with astonishment at the South. At New Orleans, such a state of public excitement was created that the police had to be called out to keep down the mob. The last hope of the rebels of sym- pathy from the North had failed them. The latter was a unit; no division weakened its force; and the dread issue, that the South had provoked, she now saw was to be settled by the comparative strength of the two sections. As a last resort, she turned to Europe, and despatched Messrs. Mann and Yancey to obtain a recognition of their government, and to get the blockade broken by promising free trade and an ample supply of cotton. The conspirators, instead of flinching at the dread prospect that opened before them, grew bolder. Though Missouri was divided, Kentucky neutral, and the western part of Virginia in open revolt against their assumed government, they boldly pressed the issue of combat. United States vessels were seized in southern ports — the Star of the West captured at Galveston and turned into a Southern national vessel — forts in Arkansas and Texas were seized, and arsenals and troops captured, and northern property confiscated as recklessly as though no day of reckoning was at hand. On the 3d of May the President issued an im- portant proclamation, portions of which caused' a good deal of discussion at the North. He called for forty-two thousand and thirty-four volunteers to TiiK iiKi;i:i.iJO\. siTve for three yoiirs or the war, and directed the increase of the reguhir army l>y the addition of eight regiments of infantry, one of cavalry, and one of artillery, and the enlistment of eighteen thousand seamen for not less than one nor more than three years in the navy. It was asked where the President obtained the power to increase the regular army with- out the san(;tion of Congress, which could not meet for two months to come. If he could increase it by ten thousand men, why not by a hundred thousand ; and if it could be called together two months before the meeting of Congress, why not for a year. It was undoubtedly an extraordinary stretch of executive authority, considering the well-known repugnance of the ])eople to a large standing army. But in the appalling evils that threatened the (iovernment, and in the anxiety to save the country at any and all hazards, the remonstrances uttered against the meas- ure by a portion of the Northern jjress were little heeded, or drowned in the one cry of self-jjreserva- tiou. The South openly proclaimed its determination to have Washington, and the two armies were rapidly coming face to face on the Potomac. At the West, tlie neutral position of Kentucky, which had I'esolved to side with neither party, but present herself as a barrier to prevent the collision of armies along the ^fississijjpi, alarmed the Government, and troops were concentrated at Cairo, which in turn was looked upon by the traitorous Governor of that State, McGoffin, as a menace. In the meantime, Tennessee had entered into a league with the Southern Confed- eracy, which, in a few days (May 11), ended in her formally joining it. Affairs gradually assumed definite form. The only three forts of importance in the slave States which at present we could reach — McHcnry, at Baltimore; Monroe, in Virginia; and Pickens, at Pensacola — had l)ceu reinforced, and the numlicr of States vve must meet in open rebellion pretty nearly ascertoined. Maryland had reconsidered her action, and under the leadership of her loyal Governor, decided to remain in the Union. Missouri, it was evident, must be the scene of fierce internal strife. Her Governor, Jackson, was a traitor, and a great portion of the southern and western jiarts of the State for secession, while St. Louis stood loyal. Kentucky was still firm in her determination to stand neutral, though the Government well knew that every effort would be made through her Governor and the late Vice-President, Breckenridge, and other leaders, to take her over to the South. Against these were the noble Romans, Crittenden, Holt, and others, and the powerful inlluencc of the Lonimnlle Joiirnal, edited by Prentice. It w.-is not difficult, therefore, to measure somewhat the magnitude of the coming contest. Some reliance was placed on the portions of North Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Alabama, bordering on the Alleghany Mountains, for their in- habitants had shown from the outset an invincible repugnance to leaving the Union. Still, for the j)rescnt, until victory was thoroughly inaugurated, they would practically have to be left out of the calculation. Secretary Seward had previously instructed our foreign ministers, who had been buiiied abroad to see to our interests in foreign courts, that the United States would jiermit no interference whatever in our domestic troubles. It was e8])eeially important that France and England should not be induced by the re]>resentations of Soutliern commissioners to recog- nize the Southern Confederacy. Attention was then turned to clearing all departments at home of secret traitors. This latter was no easy task, for they swarmed in every public office at Washington, and were busily at work in every important city at the North. The telegraph was suddenly siezed to find evidence of treason. Numerous arrests followed, and some thus seized took advantage of the writ of habeas corpus to get released. The President felt it neces- sary, in self-protection, to suspend this writ, which caused a great deal of angry discussion at the North, for the power qf doing so had always been sup|iosed to lodge in Congress alone, and was never before assumed by the chief executive. The right to exercise it admitted the most serious doubts. It was one that the King of England dare not assert. Con- gress, under the Constitution, rules the Republic, and the President, with the exception of a few reserved rights, designed mostly to act as a check on uncon- stitutional legislation, is but its minister to carry out its will ; and no anticipation of evil can justify an unnecessary assumption of its appropriate powers. If the President had assembled Congress sooner he would have been spared numy executive acts that furnish, at least, bad precedents for the future. The people, however, 'submitted, for in the present imminent danger they refused to consider remote evils. •^6 THE REBELLION. CHAPTEE V May— June, 1861. The great uncertainty into which civil war always throws a country, especially one with a democratic form of government, at this time created but little concern with a large portion of tlie people, for it was believed that a decisive battle would soon take place, which would settle the existing trouble and restore the country to a peaceful standing. At this time all eyes were turned toward the Potomac, for it was evident that the first serious collision must take place in front of Washington. From the Chesapeake to Edward's Ferry, twenty-five or thirty miles above the Capital, the Southern Confederacy was resolved to defend the "sacred soil of Virginia," as it was called, from invasion. In the meantime, the appointment of brigadier and major-generals became an every-day occurrence ; and, although it was not governed by political considerations alone, these controlled it far too mucii at first. It soon became apparent that Alexandria, a few miles from Washington, must be occupied, in order to secure the safety of tlie Capital. So, on the tw^enty- fourth of May, a little after noon. General Mansfield, Avith the Seventh New York regiment, left their camp at Washington, and proceeded to the Alexandria bridge. Another force, at the same time, passed the chain bridge, a few miles above Washington, and took possession of the London and Hampshire Rail- road, capturing two trains and several hundred pass- engers. Other regiments took part in this general movement into Virginia, making in all some thirteen thousand men. Several comjjanies, among them three of the Eire Zouaves of New York, proceeded in steamers direct to Alexandria. About five o'clock in the afternoon. Colonel Ellsworth, the Zouave com- mander, landed in good order, and marclied forward in double-quick, driving the rebels before him. One company was immediately detailed to destroy the railroad track leading to Richmond, while Colonel Ellsworth, with the remainder, proceeded to the tele- graph office to cut the wires. On his way through the street, he caught sight of a large secession flag flying from the top of the Marshall, House, kept by a person named Jackson. He immediately turned and entered the hall, and meeting a man, asked: " Who put that flag up?" The man answered: ''I don't know; I am a boarder here." The Colonel then, with a lieutenant, the chaplain, and four privates, pro- ceeded to the top of the house and cut down the flag. As they were coming down stairs, preceded by private Brownell, they met the man they had just before ac- costed, standing in the hall with a double-barreled gun in his hand. Instantly leveling it, he fired. Both barrels were discharged at once, lodging their contents in the body of Colonel Ellsworth. He was at the time rolling up the flag. Suddenly falling for- ward on his face, with the exclamation, "My God!" he instantly expired. Private Brownell, quickly leveling his musket, sent a bullet crashing through the skull of tlie murderer. In about ten minutes a company arrived, and making a litter of their mus- kets, carried their dead commander aboard the boat. The death of this gallant young officer, produced the profoundest sensation throughout the North. It was the first great siicrifice on the altar of freedom, and his remains were escorted with great honor, to his friends in the State of New York. Skirmishing between pickets, and collisions between small bodies of troops, in which the Union- ists were almost invariably successful, kept the public feeling at fever heat, and inspired the North with unbounded confidence in its power to crush out the rebellion in a very short time. The first serious afi'air occurred at Big Bethel, near Fortress Monroe. In the early part of June, a few regiments, under the command of General Pierce, were sent by General Butler to occupy Newport News. From thence they proceeded to Little Bethel, which they occupied, and then pushed on to Big Bethel. Here they were met by the enemy, en- trenched behind works, and after a short action driven back with a loss in killed and wounded of some forty men. The whole affair was badly man- aged — the regiments, through mistake, firing into each other — and had the enemy shown any energy, the whole command would have been cut up. Lieu- tenant Greble, of the regular service, and Major Winthtop, volunteer, an aid to General Butler, were among the killed. This disaster awoke a storm of indignation at the North. Defeat was a contingency never anticipated, and the most unsparing denun- ciations were visited on the heads of the supposed of- fenders. The newspapers now began to assume the control of military matters, and it was evident that the unreasonable demands of the public would, Till Kl'.KLMO.V. ero \ast Tennessee stood loyal to the Union, and was struggling manfully to kccj) at least that part of the State true to the old flag. Her devotion to the Union was admirable and cost her afterwards untold 8ull'crin£r. CHAPTER VII. July, 1801. The President issued his proclamation on the -ith day of July, which did not meet the public expecta- tion, as it consisted chiefly of a detailed history of the Secession movement, and an argument to jtrove that the doctrine of State Rights, on which it was foiindeil, was unsound and ruinous. But this had been fully discussed and dis]H)sed of long ago. The country demanded energetic action. The long-abused and forbearing Xorth had finally- got thoroughly roused. It iuid done with argument the moment it had drawn the sword, and was impatient of any ap- peal except the trumpet-call to battle. It was provi- dential that the President took a calmer survey of affairs. The excited state of public feeling needed the restraining power of his well-balanced mind, to prevent rash measures which might cripple our re- sources and endanger our ultimate success. With all his conservatism he could not wholly save us from disaster, by which we learned more — perhaps too great — caution. At this time the chief divisions of the army along our line of defense, under Scott, were commanded as follows: General Butler, at Fortress Monroe ; (Jcncral Banks, at Annapolis; McDowell, in front of Wash- ington ; Patterson, near Harper's Ferry ; McClellan, in Western Virginia ; Anderson — the hero of Fort Sumter — in Kentucky ; and Harney, in Missouri. On the rebel side, Beauregard was at JIanassas ; J. E. Johnston — opjiosed to Patterson — up the Potomac ; Bishop Polk, of Louisiana (made Major-CiencraJ), on the Mississippi ; Sidney A. Johnson — a traitor from the United States Army in California — in the South- west ; and Price, in Missouri. Davis had called out man for man to offset the army of the North, and everything was supj)osed to turn on the result of the first meeting of these two mighty armies. In the far West, among tiie Indians boi-dcring on Kansas, under our protection, and in the liarren regions of Xew Mexico, the rebels were hard at work stirring up treason, and assailing the weak detachments of the army stationed on our outjiosts. In the South, Fort Pickens — the only stronghold we still held on the gulf — was menaced. It was soon ajiparent that politicians in Congress, pushed forward by reckless partisan newspapers, were bent on a sudden advance of the army on the Poto- mac. Some of the most influential of these kept fly- ing at the head of their columns, " On' to Rich- MOXi) I" The military sagacity of Scott was ridi- culed as "old fogyism:" his cautious, wise policy pronounced to be the result of disinclination to invade his native State, and the elaborate fortifications he was erecting across the Potomac, laughed at as evi- dence of imbecile old age. In short, military science and experience were derided, and the organization and proper preparation of an army for an arduous campaign in the ordinary way, stigmatized as a pro- ceeding of the " circumlocution office." The South- erners were dastards, the North invincible, and hence these elaborate j)reparations and delays totally un- called for. We bad the power, and .-dl that was necessary to assure success was to let it loose. Never :J4 TUE REBELLION. before in the history of the world did popular passion, at the beginning of a fearful, mighty war, so over- slaugh military science. Out of this state the nation must be extricated, by reason and moderation, or startled from it by a thunder-clap of misfortune that would make every heart stand still with terror. The probable cost of the war liad hardly yet received the attention of the people. We had been so accustomed to believe our wealth and resources absolutely e.xhaust- less, that money, the first thing that should have been thought of, was ap]iarently the last. Funds for immediate use were, of course, wanted. The President, in his message, had called for $4:00.000,000. But Congress, taking a more moderate view of the public exigencies, proposed a loan bill authorizing the Secretary of the Treasury to borrow $250,000,000 on the faith of the United States — the revenue of the Government being pledged to the payment of the interest. This gave to the small opposition in the House an excellent opportunity to make an onslaught uiwn the Administration, and a spirited debate en- sued, in which Vallandigham, of Ohio, led of: against the measure. It passed, however, July llth, by an overwhelming vote. The fact that Congress thought this sum would be suiBcient, and that the necessary expenses could be met without resorting to extraordi- nary taxation, shows how destitute of well-read states- men that body was. Such men as Webster, Clay, Calhoun, and others, who illustrated the Congress that carried us through the War of 1812, were want- ing ; and thoughtful men, in the most trying period of our existence, looked anxiously around for the leading, controlling mind, which could embi-aee the full measure of our wants and our dangers. A por- tion of the more ultra Eepublicans seemed to see in this appalling crisis of the country only an excellent opportunity to push their measures for the abolition of slavery. The loyal men from the Border States became alarmed at this, and evinced great uneasiness. Western Virginia, having formed a provisional gov- ernment, with Pierpont as Governor, selit members of Congress to Washington. Owen Lovejoy, of Illi- nois, having offered a resolution to rejDeal the fugi- tive slave law, these were instructed by the Legis- lature in session in Wheeling — the improvised capital — to vote against it, while at the same time they were directed to vote for money and men to carry on the war. The- Senate seemed to have a more correct view of the struggle on which we had entered, and passed a bill authorizing the employment of five hundred thousand volunteers, and voting for an appropriation of half a million of dollars. The Southern Congress, thinking the North was playing simply a game of brag, responded with a similar call for men and money. Thus, whether the movers in the matter comprehended it or not, the war was assuming proportions so vast that the mind shrunk aghast at the contemplation. Acts were also passed sanctioning the blockade proclaimed by the President, and providing for the collection of the revenues of the seceding States. In the meantime, news having reached the country that the privateer Sumter was burning our ships on the high seas, a bill was passed authorizing the Secretary of the Navy to purchase or contract for such vessels, and to make such increase in the naval force, as he might deem necessary to suppress privateering, and enforce the blockade, and appropriated $3,000,000 for the purpose. Having done what it thought its duty in the present emergency, it was anxious to see the army begin its work. Scott, whose for reaching sagacity saw that the public expectation of a great and decis- ive battle which should end the rebellion was doomed to disappointment, and that an immediate advance on the eneni}', even if victorious, could [not be fol- lowed up to any decisive result, scarcely knew what course to adopt. In the first place, the troops assem- bled before Washington, were mostly enlisted for three months, and if they were disbanded without being allowed to strike a blow, the public would be disheartened, and future enlistments might be ren- dered difficult. Besides, the public expected some- thing of this vast army — it could not see why,'if the war was ever to begin, it should not commence at once, while the capital was threatened. Our troops were certainly as brave, numerous, and better armed than the enemy. It could not see the vast difference between raw and unskilled troops moving to attack a foe in a strong position of his own choos- ' ing, and one standing on the defensive behind its intrenchments. Congress was pressed by pol- iticians, the President and Cabinet by Con- gress, and Scott by both, till finally a forward movement was determined upon. But difficulties, which none but a militiarj' commander could see, lay in the way. Regiments already formed and equipped, could, with our railroad facilities, be transferred with comparative ease to the Capital, but provisions, the means of transportation, and all the appliances and accessories necessary to the move- ment of a great army, were not so easily improvised. Still, after full deliberation, it was resolved to force a TIFM RE I'. KF, LION. 35 battle. The enemy at Manassas was suj)i)()sc(] to bo in immense force, yet no one, lor a moment, dreamed of a defeat. Beauregard conimaiidcd at tliis jioiiit, while .1. E. Johnston, at the head of some thirty thousand men, was in the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry. General Patterson, who had comnianded a division of volun- teers in tlie Mexican war, was assigned to the troops which liad been concentrating at Hagerstown and Willianisport to operate against liini, and on the 2d of July crossed the I'otomac, driving the rebels before him. In a skirmisli near Ilaynesville, the army had behaved well, and much was expected of him. He was, however, bordering on his three- score-aud-ten, and not being distinguished in his best days for energy, could not be expected in his old age to exhibit much of this quality, so necessary to the vigorous prosecution of a campaign. In the apj)roach- ing advance of the army he was charged with the re- sponsible duty of taking care of Johnston — to hold him where he was, and thus jirevent him from rein- forcing Beauregard, or, if he attempted to retreat, to compel a battle. To Colonel McDowell, of the regular army, who had the reputation of being a brave and skillful offi- cer, was assigned the command of the division which was to move against Beauregard. He had been con- sulted as to the number of troops he should need, and allowed all tliat he asked for. In fixing the force, however, he expressly stated that he did not embrace in his calculation the army under Johnston. He promised success only on the condition that the Government should take care of him. Everything being in readiness, the army, over forty thousand strong, took up its march on the 17th of July in five divisions; the first commanded by Gen. Tyler, of the Connecticut militia ; the second, by Col. Hunter; the third, by Col. Heint- zelman, of the regular army; the fourth, by Gen. Kunyon; and the fifth, by Col. Miles. The news of this imposing array having taken up its line of march for Manassas, as it traveled over the electric wires, created the most unbounded enthusiasm throughout the North. No gloomy forebodings dashed the general joy; no doubts clouded the be- lief that traitors were about to receive tlieir just punishment. \'isitors at Washington, and members of Congress, and members of the jiress, besieged the admistration for permission to accompany the army; and men on horseback, in carriages, and four horse omnibuses, brought up the rear, or obstructed the march of the victorious troops. Tliey went forth ua to a great Derby day. To the spectator it looked like a splendid military picnic about to come off among the wooded fields of N'irginia. In gay spirits, the air resounding with the stirring airs of the regimental bands, the July sun Hashing on the long lines of gleaming bayonets, the army moved rapidly over the country. l)rivii:g the enemy's i)ickets before it, the main column reached Fairfax, and encamped for the night. The troops, let loose from their long confine- ment, plundered everything tliey could lay their hands on, and tlie spirit of frolic ran riot in the camp. As Gen. Tyler ajjproached Centerville, he was directed by McDowell to establish himself there, and carefully observe all the ai)])roaclies to it. Instead of doing this, he pushed on to Bull Run, and observing the enemy's batteries on the further bank, opened fire on them. An extraordinary artillery duel followed, which lasted for some time with but little effect on either side, and which resulted in Tyler withdrawing his batteries. This action, brought on suddenlv, was wholly unexpected to McDowell, and done without his orders, and hence was the cause of much com- ment and angry discussion afterwards. Only one thing need be said of it, however, the enemy's line of battle lay along this stream, and no action was proper till the advancing army was in position, and a con- certed attack could be made. No reconnoitering had been made, and such a movement ran the hazard of bringing on a general engagement, while the bulk of the army was on the march and wholly ignorant of what was going on. The next day, Friday, a wide reconnoissance was made of the enemy's position, with a view to turning his flanks, for a straightforward movement on his strongly posted batteries was too desperate an under- taking to be thought of, except everything else should fail. From Centreville three roads branch off like the three s])okes of a wheel toward Bull Run, and McDowell determined to make the attack in three columns. Bull Run is a sluggish stream running from north-west to soifth-east, and crossed by numer- ous fords. Behind it the ground rises into elevations, while the shores are heavily wooded.. Along these the enemy had posted himself — his line extending for nearly eight miles. To the eiist, on our left, was Blackburn ford, where Tyler's artillery action took place. The strength of the enemy there was found too great to permit a movement on that flank, and so McDowell determined to turn his extreme left by a 3(1 THE REBELLICTN. ford which was so far to the west that the enemy, not dreaming of an attack in that quarter, had left it undefended. This task was assigned to Hunter's division. Heintzelmifti was to move against the strongly defended ford next below this, and the moment Hunter's division came down on the other side of the stream, driving the enemy before him, cross over and join him, when they together would keep down the stream. Tyler was to move along the Warrentown road, that crossed Bull Run just west of Centreville, and occupy the enemy at Stone Bridge, while the flank movement was being carried out. McDowell, fearing that, while this was going on, the enemy at Blackburn ford, on his extreme left, might attempt a similar movement on him, concentrated a heavy force there to keep him in check, and make him think that the main attack was to be made in that direction. The fifth division, under Miles, was stationed on the Centreville ridge, as a reserve. The plan seemed an admirable one, and gave every prom- ise of success. Saturday, at four o'clock in the morning, the order to march was given. It was a warm, moonlight night, and the army presented a magnificent spectacle as it began to move off through the green fields and over- hanging woods. The fires by which the host had cooked its midnight meal — the last to many a poor soldier — dotted the hillsides and hazy valleys as far as the eye could reach. Long lines of steel, flashing in the moonbeams — extended rows of army wagons,with their white tops — the dark-looking ambulances — wind- ing columns of cavalry, now bursting into view and now lost in deep shadows — combined to form a scene of thrilling interest. Not a drum or bugle cheered the march ; a deep silence, broken only by the heavy rumbling of artillery carriages, or the muffled tread of tiie advancing host, rested on forest and valley. The divisions, separating like the rays of a fan, moved off to their respective positions. Hunter and Heintzelmau took the same road until they came to the turn off to the ford where the latter was to be droi^ped. Hunter then kept on alone. It was evident that the battle-was to be lost or won by these two divisions, fourteen thousand strong. The rest of the army was only to keep the enemy in front occupied till they were seen coming down the opposite bank, then the general advance was to take place, for the battle was assuredly won. The Sab- bath morning broke, warm and pleasant, and at six o'clock Tyler was in front of the enemy's center, and soon a thirty pound rifled Parrott gun — the signal agreed on by which he was to announce he was in position — awoke the morning echoes, and the shell bursting in mid air announced to the enemy that the decisive hour had come. The duty assigned him was to threaten the bridge, which here crossed the stream, till the appearance of Hunter's and Heintz- elmen's divisions on the other side coming down the stream, when he was to move across to their support. He had reached his position at half past five, and hence had ample time to survey that of the enemy on the farther side. The latter was posted on heights that rose in regular slopes from the shore, broken into knolls and terraces, crowned here and there by earthworks. The woods that interfered with his cannon ranges had all been cut away, and his jTuns had a clean sweep of every approach. On our side the descent was more gradual, and covered with a dense forest. A look-out was stationed in a tree that overlooked the surrounding country, from which he could observe the progress of the flanking columns under Hunter and Heintzelman. Hour after hour this division stood thus on the ridge that overlooked Bull Run and the bridge, doing nothing, except now and then sending a shell from its thirty- two pound Parrott gun at bodies of infantry and cav- alry that, far inland, could be detected moving in the direction of Hunter's and Heintzelman's divisions. Colonel Richardson, with his brigade, (detached for the time being from the fifth division in reserve under Miles) took the position at Blackburn ford, still farther down the stream, to threaten the passage there. While Tyler was to wait the appearance of Hunter and Heintzelman across the stream before commencing his attack, Richardson, below him, was to await the thunder of Tyler's artillery as the signal for him to move on the ford. It will thus be seen that but one division (Tyler's) and one brigade (Richardson's) were on the stream, while the two di- visions of Hunter and Heintzelman were to open the battle — the other two beirig out of the fight — Miles in reserve at Centerville, and Runyon's protecting the communications with Vienna. The whole inter- est, therefore, centred on the two former divisions, and from little after sunrise every eye was strained in the direction they were expected to appear, and every ear open to hear the thunder of their artillery. These two columns, as before remarked, moved steadily along the same road, on their unknown journey up the stream and back of it, until they came to the place designated for Heintzelman to turn oft' to the left, to the ford where he was to cross. THK IIKKKM.ION. 37 But the road laid down on the map, and which lie was to take, was found to have no existence, in fact, and so he kept on after Hunter; and ahout eleven o'clock came to Dudley's Sprinj;s ford, where the lat- ter had just crossed, with the exception of one bri- gade, which was then enterinj; the water. It was ten miles from C'cntreville to this place, and the sol- diers, before reaching it, had become much exhausted. The enemy had got information of this movement, and from higli points of observation, large masses of troops could be seen moving rapidly towards the threatened point. The roar of artillery soon an- nounced that Hunter was engaged with the enemy. Heintzelman immediately ])ushcd forward his divis- ion, but firtding it slow work to get it over in a body, he ordered the regiments to break ofl' and cross sep- arately. The men, however, suffering from thirst, stopped to drink and fill their canteens, which delayed the march. McDowell, having stationed himself where he could the most quickl}' receive re- ports from the different divsions, had at length flung himself on the ground to got a little rest, as he was Buffering from illness. At half past ten u courier dashed up to him, and announced that Hunter was across Bull Run. He immediately sprang to the saddle, and galloped off to accompany the column on which the fate of the day deiiended. The brave Porter, the gallant Buruside, and the chJValrous Sprague were in the advance of Hunter, driving the enemy steadily before them. Soon Heintzelman appeared also on the left, and the amazed «neiny saw their position turned. The advancing columus were at last seen from the look-outs at Tyler's position, and huge columns of smoke rising in the summer air and waving to and fro in the sunlight, showed where the encountering ho.sts were struggling for victory. Then idl along that sluggish stream, for live miles in extent, the artillery opened, and the columns were put in motion. Tyler's left wing swept forward, the famous Irish regiment, sixteen huudred strong, leading the van. With the quick step at first, then the double- quick, they, with shouts that shook the field, flung themselves forward, skirting with their glittering steel the edge of the forest. Coats, haversacks, everything that could impede their progress, were cast loose. Meagher galloped at their iiead, and shouting, •'Come on, boys* you iiave got your chance at last!" led them fiercely on the foe. The Seveuty-uinth Highlanders, the Thirteenth New York, and Second Wisconsin followed. It was now high noon, and the battle began to rage with terrible fury. Iluiitci' bad been wounded, but his and Ileintzelman's divisions kejit on their terrible way, steadily jiushing the enemy before them. Rickett's battery, after losing nearly every num at the guns, fell into the hands of the enemy. Out of the woods volumes of smoke writhed fiercely upwards, telling where bodies 0/ infantry struggled for the mastery ; regiments on the double-quick streamed across the open meadows, and the next moment, like two thunder clouds charged with lightning, burst in flame on each other, while the incessant roar of cannon shook the eartii. The surrounding inhabitants grew pale with affright, and the deafening reverberations rolled sullenly away, till they broke with a muffled sound over Fairfax and Alexandria, and even Washington itself,' blanching the cheeks of listeners and filling their hearts with vague fears. Those stationed near Tyler's position listened with intense eagerness to Hunter's and Heintzelman's charges in the northern woods, and ever and auon cheers were heard mingling with the roar of artillery. Some regiments flinched through want of proper officers, and Rickett's battery was lost by the cowardly flight of the Fire Zouaves, who had boasted of the deeds they would perform, beforehand. Others came gallantly into the fight for awhile, but soon broke and fled in dismay ; a few stood firm until all was lost. The Second Minnesota, ordered to the extreme right, moved for a mile across the field of battle at the quick and double- quick, and drew up within close pistol shot of a superior foe. Heintzelman was everywhere pres- ent — now in talking distance of the foe, and now dashing amid the wavering battalions to steady them. Where such men as he, and Porter, and Burnside, and Sprague led, there could not but be deeds of heroism; and where such batteries as OJriflRn's, and Pickett's, and the Rhode Island were directed by their respective commanders, the harvest of death was reaped fast. By little after noon, these two Hanking divisions had worked their desperate way down the farther banks of Bull Run, until they were opposite Tyler's position at the Stone bridge. The enemy hurried up regiment after regiment to arrest the reversed tide of battle, but all in vain. Tyler, sending forwsu-d reinforcements across the stream, brought help to the exhausted, thirsty troops, which had been marching and fighting ever since two o'clock in the morning of this hot July day. Sherman and Keyes led their brigades gallantly forward, and by two o'clock the battle was. to human view, won. Many of the eneniv were alreadv in full flight — the whole 38 THE EEBELLION. army borne back a mile and a half — and Beauregard was preparing to retreat to his lines at Manassas Junction, when clouds of dust, rising in the distance, told him that reinforcements were hurrying to his relief. As Blucher stole away from Grouchy at Wavres, to decide the fate of the Battle of Waterloo, so had Johnston beguiled Patterson, and pushing his troops forward by railroad, had now come to make a Waterloo defeat to the Federal arms. Hunter and Heintzelman, after their long march and long fight without rest or food, and part of the time without water, now found a fresh enemy approaching on their right flank and jDartly in their rear. It matters not whether this was the cause of the panic that followed or not, it made the loss of the battle certain. Ten thousand fresh troops thrown suddenly on these two divisions, that had been marching and fighting with- out any respite for thirteen hours, could have but one result. It must be remembered that those thirteen hours told heavier on our raw troops, fresh from the counting-house and workshops, than twenty-four would have done on old soldiers. An orderly retreat might have been effected but for the panic — nothing more. The brave and dauntless Heintzelmau gal- loped among the broken ranks in vain. Porter, Burn- side and others were helpless in the loosened, refluent flood. Griffin, raging like a young lion, at, as he be- lieved, the useless loss of his guns, turned savagely back, powerless to stay the reverse tide of battle. The gallant young Governor of Rhode Island, seeing that all was lost, spiked, with his own hands, the guns of his regiment before he fled. McDowell, Jiearing heavy cannonading down by Blackburn Ford, and fearing his right flank would be turned — which would secure the total annihilation of his force — galloped thither and drew up his reserve, under Miles, to arrest the progress of the enemy. The spectacle now, in the center, was pain- ful in the extreme — hosts of Federal troops, some detached from their regiments, all mingled in one disorderly route, were fleeing along the road and through the fields on either side. Army wagons, sutlers' teams, and private carriages, choked the pas- sage, tumbling against each other amid clouds of dust. Hacks, containing unlucky spectators of the battle, were smashed like glass, and the occupants lost sight of in the debris. Horses, flying wildly from the battle-field, many of them iu death agony, gal- loped at random forward, swelling the tumult, while wounded men, lying along the banks, appealed with raised hands to those who rode horses to be lifted behind. Then the artillery, such as was saved, came thundering along, smashing and overturning every- thing in its passage. The regular cavalry joined in the melee, adding to the accumulated terrors, for they rode down footmen without mercy. The trains from Hunter's division soon came rushing in from a branch road, and from every side fresh torrents swelled the confused and onrolling tide. The wounded were left to the tender mercies of the victors, and the roads and fields, along which, on this early Sabbath morning, such a confident, imposing array had passed, were black with terrified fugitives, and cumbered with abandoned cannons, wagons, arms and accoutrements. It was a wild flight. The calm presence of the reserve under Blencker, drawn up in line of battle at Cen- treville, checked the hitherto uncontrollable terror, but not sufficient to allow McDowell to make a stand there, and the turbulent stream rolled on towards Washington. As night deepened, the rain came down in torrents, drenching the living and dead alike. All niglit long the weary, straggling army toiled on, and at morning began to pour in tumultu- ous masses over Long bridge, carrying consternation to the Capital. Some regiments, however, preserved their order, and marched into Washington with ranks unbroken. The news of this terrible disaster, traveling over the electric'wires, made every cheek turn pale, and sent a shudder throughout the world. Not only was a great battle lost, but " The Capital is lost!" trembled on every tongue. On the heels of such a routed host, a mere section of the rebel army could enter Wash- ington. But it did not follow up its success. Whether the severe beating it had received up to the last mo- ment, or ignorance of the extent of the panic, or fear of losing all it had gained by pressing forward in the darkness on unknown dangers, restrained it — at all events, it attempted no pursuit, and the discomfited army had nothing but its own terrors, the darkness, storm and hunger and weariness to contend with. The battle-field presented a sickening appearance — the dead and wounded were everywhere, and citizens of a common country, of the same lineage — the blooming youth and the gray-haired man, lay, side by side, sprinkled with each other's blood. The pitiless rain came down upon the sufferers, whose low moans loaded the midnight air. * Our loss in killed, and wounded, and missing, amounted to nearly two thousand, of which one thousand four hundred and twenty-three were taken prisoners. Among the killed were Colonel Cameron, THE KEBELMON. :5'.i brother of the Secretary of War, and Colonel Slo- cum, of Khodi! Island, whose bodies were left on the battle-field. Among the prisoners taken, were Colo- nel C^orcoran, of New York city, and Mr. Ely, mem- ber of Congress from Rochester. Beside other tro- phies which the enemy secured were twentj'-three can- nons of various sizes, four thousand muskets, artillery wagons, ammunition and a large quantity of equip- ments and stores. Of our whole army, not twenty thousand had been in the fight, while the number of the rebels actually engaged at first was probably not much greater. We had the largest force in the field previous to Johnson's arrival, when they, both to- gether, outnumbered and outflanked us. The North, though at first stunned by the defeat, showed no discouragement. The press, however, was filled with clamors against this and that person, or set of persons, who had been instrumental in bringing it upon us. Less, however, than might have been expected, was visited on McDowell. There seemed to be an instinctive consciousness that he had i»een ruined by either the inefficiency, or cowardice, or treachery of Patterson ; — and the latter for some time after would scarcely have been safe in any Northern city. Others turned their wrath on the papers and the party whose cry "On to Richmond," had filled the land for weeks. General Scott, it was declared, had been forced to consent to a movement which his judgment disapproved ; and fierce denunciations were hurled at the heads of those who had attempted to control the military authorities. The adminis- tration came in for its share of abuse, and the want of confidence everywhere felt in its ability to con- duct us safely through the war, threatened for a while to produce a greater calamity than the defeat itself. But as the smoke of the conflict cleared away, it became easier to fix the blame. It was evi- dent, notwithstanding the many criticisms to the contrary, that McDowell had planned and cgnducted the battle wisely. The charge of overtasking the men was, perhaps, true ; but it is not shown how it could have been prevented. That the troops were not provided with sufficient food, was owing to the negligence of the subordinate odioers, and still more to the carelessness of the men who, not believing that the task of whipping the rebels was to be a serious one, did not prepare for their work, as older soldiers would have done. Many regiments were not properly officered, no doubt, but that was an evil that could not have been avoided. McDowell thought if he could have been supplied with the means of transportation, so as to have started earlier, as he desired to do, defeat might have been prevented, notwithstanding the other difficulties he had to contend with. But the enemy were thorougldy acquainted with his move- ments ; and it is more than probable if it had been necessary for Jolinston to be at Manassas earlier, he would have Iteen there. But it is unquestionably true that Patterson's failure to take care of Johnston made defeat certain, whether Beauregard, as he intended to do, had attacked McDowell, or waited, as he did, to receive him in position. To the believer in an over-ruling Providence there will appear reasons for this defeat that are not laid down in military books. To say nothing of the utter ruin that would assur- edly have overtaken an army of that size and com- position, had it succeeded then and attempted to march on Richmond — as it must have done, under the pressure of public opinion, and of the consequent greater peril to our cause, or of the other results that would have happened — that defeat was necessary to crush out the rash, headlong and too confident spirit with which we had entered on our task. Scarcely any price was too great to pay to secure such a result. Its permanent establishment over tlie Government would have driven us into such desperate straits that no avenue of escape would have l)een left us but by the way of military despotism. The struggle on which we had entered was too mighty, the war before us of too vast proportions, to be disposed of without the most careful and ample preparations. A battle was well enough to punish the audacity of the rebels, and secure the Capital; but the blind confidence and arrogant boastfulness that demanded it, would not have been contented with such a result. It had become a condition of our success that the public press and politicians should cease to direct the man- agement of the war, and that it should fall into the legitimate and proper hands. This the defeat at Bull Run secured, at least for a time. The nation took the attitude of calm reflection, and began to measure somewhat the mighty task before it. It unquestion- ably hurt us abroad, but that could not be helped. The huge blunder of taking three months' men now became apparent. It was seen that a grand army, in all its appointments and preparatory drill, must be had J)efore any important movement could be made. We found that there was a great difference between offensive and defensive war. The latter can be carried on in a country difficult of access without 40 THE KEBELLION. much previous drill ; the former, never. The New Eughind farmers fought like veterans behind their temporary breastworks on Bunker Hill, but had affairs been reversed, and they been compelled to mount the naked slope in face of a murderous fire, as were the British regulars, they never would have moved with unbroken ranks for the last and third time, as the latter did, into the face of death. Here was the cause of our error — we forgot that we were to wage an offensive war — carry entrenchments and storm positions held by our own flesh and blood. On the top of this disaster came the news that on the twenty-fifth of this month, Major Lyude surren- dered Fort Fillmore, in New Mexico, with some seven hundred men, to a body of Texaus, without firing a shot, and under circumstances that left no doubt of premeditated treason. CONTENTS. PART SECOND. CHAPTEK VIII. .JlLY-AUGUST, ISCl. State of tlie Army after Bull Run — Its Disappearance from the Field — A New Army to be Raised — O'-eatness of the Task — McClellan Summoned to the Capital to Take Chief Command — Banks and Fremont — The Latter sent to St. Louis — The Enemy's Outposts in Sight of the Capital — Rising of the North — Lyon Advances on McCulloch — Kentucky Votes to Remain in the Union — Fremont in St. Louis — Battle of Wilson's Creek and Death of Lyon — Retreat of the Union Army — Public Feeling on the Death of Lyon — Diabolical Spirit of the Southern Clergy. CHAPTER I.\. ArorsT, ISiil. Action of the General Government — Arrests — Confiscation — Refuses to Excliange Prisoners — Retaliation by Davis — McClellan Quells a Mutiny in the Seventy-Ninth Regiment — Southern Privateers — Wreck of the Jeff. Davis — Surprise of Tyler at Summcrville— Wool sent to Fortress Monroe — Footo Ordered West to take Charge of Gunboats — Naval Attack on Cajie Hatteras^Error of the Secretary of the Navy — Proclamation of Fremont — Effect of — President Requires Ilim to Modify it — The Rebels Occupy Columbus and Hickman — State of Affairs in Western Virginia — Battle of Carnifax Ferry and Retreat of Floyd. CHAPTER X. Sri'Tkmhek, 1801. Lexington Attacked — Repulse of Rains — Distress of Mulligan — Heroism of His Brigade — Fall of Lex- ington — Fremont Blamed for it — Charges Against Him — He takes the Field — Attitude of Kentucky — Its Legislature Orders the Rebel Forces to Leave the State — MoGoffin— General Lee sent to Western Virginia— CONTENTS. Fight at Cheat MouBtain Pass— Defeat of Lee at Elk Water — Defeat of John Washington— Position of the Armies on the Potomac — Fortifications Around Washington — Occupation of Munson's Hill— Observance of the National Fast. CHAPTER XI. October, 1861. Position of the Two Great Armies— Expectations and Feelings of the People— Gallant Naval Exploit at Pensacola — Destruction of the Privateer Judah — Occupation of Ship Island — Western Virginia — Fight at Green Brier Creek— Attack of the Enemy at Cape Hatteras — Surprise of the Wilson Zouaves — Attack of the Blockading Fleet at the Mouth of the Mississippi by the Ram Manassas— Fight at Lebanon, Missouri— Fight at Fredericktown— Fight at Blue Mills Ferry— Battle of Wild Cat Camp, Kentucky. CHAPTER XIL October, 1861. Affairs on the Upper Potomac— Fight at Bolivar— A Gallant Action — Reconnoissance Across the River- Battle of Balls Bluff— Death of Baker— Heroic Devotion— Strange Conduct of Gen. Stone— Indignation of the People— McClellan Hurries to the Scene of Action— Col. Lander takes the Place left Vacant by the Death of Baker— Is Wounded— Affairs in Missouri— Gallant Charge of Fremont's Body Guard. CHAPTER XIII. November, 1861. General Dissatisfaction— Blockade of the Capital— Great Secret Naval Expedition— Overtaken by a Storm— Joy of the South and fear of the North— Arrival at Port Royal— Hilton Head and Bay Island- Preparations to Attack them— The Attack'ed— The Victory — Strange Inactivity of the Land Forces— Grand Review of the Army of the Potomac. CHAPTER XIV. November, 1861. Expedition from Cairo — Battle of Belmont — Nelson's Expedition to Piketou — A Long March — The Battle — Rout of tlie Enemy — Nelson' Order — Conduct of the Secretary of War — Removal of Fremont — Hunter appointed in His Place — Capture of Mason and Slidell — Exultation of the People — Creates a Storm of Indignation in England — War Threatened — Their Surrender Demanded — Sinking of Stones in Charleston Harbor — The Negroes and Cotton of Port Royal. ■'ONGRESS •■II J Nat/ at P Gr Ir LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS iiiiiiiiiiiii|iiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 011 021 769 9 / LIBRARY OF CONGRESS in 1 "iiriiniiriiiiiinriirii ill ill II III 1 ; iji ill ill 1 011 021 769 9 • HOLUNGl pH 8J MILL RUN F3 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 011 021 769 9 HOLLINGER pH8.5 MILL RUN F3-1543