Newspaper articles, etc. of the Day

[unionblue]

From the National Tribune, 7/2/1899.

A Union Man in Richmond

Personal Recollections of the Great Rebellion, by a Man on the Inside. BY A NATIVE VIRGINIAN.

"AND THERE WAS WAR IN HEAVEN."

The ancient writers tell us that, once upon a time, Lucifer, aided and abetted by his angels, revolted against the authority and power of God in the Heavens; whether from disappointed ambition or whether from an uncontrollable desire to become "free and independent," we are not informed so plainly as we might desire. Yet we may reasonably conclude that these "ambitious views" of Lucifer were strong factors in connection with his revolt in the Heavens. We are further told that the Archangel Michael proceeded against Lucifer, with his angels, when a fearful battle ensued, which, no doubt, caused the angels to so shudder with horror that the Heavens from the First to the "Seventh," trembled and were moved with a holy agitation, Lucifer and his angels were finally overwhelmed, defeated, and "hurled from the Battlements of Heaven." Is that brief description of the events connected with the revolt of Lucifer literally correct? Who shall answer?

Now, in this fair country of the United States in North America, in 1861, began a mighty revolt against the authority and power of the United States, incited, at first, by a dozen or so discontented people of the Southern States, for their own purposes, good or bad. These gentlemen, who were at the head of the disunion movement, claimed the right of secession for the Southern States, to be a "free and independent" nation, to be called the Confederate States of America. After secession had been accomplished, and the Confederate States formed, military law prevailed in the South; that is, "martial law" was declared, and the Union crushed out. In many cases, Union men were given offices. This induced many of that class to give their allegiance to the Confederate Government, apparently, at all events, particularly those who possessed property, which would have certainly been confiscated by the Confederate Government, especially if the owner had been born in a Northern State. The mechanics generally remained loyal to the United States, many of them going through the lines to the North, while some few remained, principally, I think, on account of the high prices paid to skilled labor.

With the military in supreme control in the South, everything was lovely, in the estimation of the Confederates. And then, there was "War in Heaven," and in the fairest earthly heaven beneath the stars.

It is not my purpose to write a history of the war which followed. It has been ably written by many hands, and I only propose to refer to the battles, incidentally, which, from fate or the governing power of circumstances, brought me near or in immediate conflict, and which might perceptibly add to the general interest of this article.

SECESSION MOVEMENT.

We all know how, in the grand finale, the angels of the earthly Lucifer were almost literally "hurled from the battlements of Heaven" at Petersburg by the modern St. Michael and his hosts, Grant. Lucifer himself, however, "stood not upon the order of his going," but "hurled" himself, and rapidly too, from the "battlements" of Richmond, and - you know the rest, oh, reader.

Now, my reader, I could say that the secession movement was planned by certain persons who knew that such a course was illegal, unwise, in violation of the Constitution, and, altogether, a deception and a snare; but, of course, I do not say so. That is all on that subject.

In the Century Magazine of February, 1888, is published an article entitle, "The grand Strategy of the War of the Rebellion," by Gen. W.T. Sherman. A paragraph in that article so forcibly indicates the leading causes of the secession of the States, and the consequent armed resistance to the power and authority of the Federal Government, that it may not seem out of place to reproduce in these "Recollections." The paragraph in question is as follows:

"Now, in the United States of America, in the year of our Lord, 1861, some ambitious men of the Southern States, for their own reasons, good or bad, resolved to break up the Union of States, which had prospered beyond precedent, which, by political means, they had governed, but on which they were about to lose their hold. By using the pretext of slavery, which existed in the South, they aroused their people to a very frenzy, seceded (or their States seceded) from the Union, and established a Southern Confederacy, the Capital of which was first at Montgomery, Ala., afterwards at Richmond, Va., with Jefferson Davis as their President. By a conspiracy, as clearly established as any fact in history, they seized all the property of the United States, within the seceded States, except a few feebly garrisoned points along the seaboard, and proclaimed themselves a new nation, 'with slavery the cornerstone."

This tells the whole story, and I apprehend that there are a few persons, even in the South, who will decline to endorse this plain and brief "statement of the case."

I think I shall not be contradicted in asserting that Gen. Sherman was a great soldier, a noble gentleman, truthful, intelligent and honorable.

(more to follow...)

Unionblue

[unionblue]

(Continued from the National Tribune, 7/27/1899.

SECESSION CONVENTION.

...Soon after these strange events (Winter of 1860), secession grew apace, and the State Legislature passed a bill calling a convention to consider the interests and the duty of the State. That was the Secession Convention. An election for members to this convention took place. Many of the members of the Legislature that had passed the bill for the convention were elected to the convention of their making. Two members were to be elected from our city - Richmond. The daily papers, the Dispatch, Enquirer, and Examiner, had fully espoused the Secession cause. The Richmond Whig fought valiantly, and against heavy odd, for the cause of the Union; and anon I shall speak more fully regarding the Whig particularly.

Our candidates for the convention on the Union ticket were two very accomplished and prominent gentlemen - the Hon. John Minor Botts and Marmaduke Johnson. Mr. Botts had represented our district in Congress, while Mr. Johnson was a very popular young lawyer. Both were understood to be uncompromising Union men. To be brief, Marmaduke Johnson was elected, but Mr. Botts, by some hocus-pocus, was declared defeated. Much was said about the matter, but as the Secessionists managed the election almost entirely, nothing could be done about it, and Mr. Johnson, alone, was elected.

There can be but little doubt that rascally means were employed by the Secession Party to encompass Mr. Bott's defeat. He was a man of powerful intellect, and a noble orator, also being perfectly fearless; and it was worth a great deal to the Secession Party to have him defeated, and he was defeated.

The convention assembled about the first of '61. And just here I wish to say these "recollections" are written without the aid of notes, or a book of reference, except two or three old magazines, hence may not be accurate regarding dates of minor occurrences at all times, but this fact will not detract from its general interest, as all occurrences and incidents are correct, and I have taxed my memory as accurately as possible.

The Secession convention assembled at first in "Mechanics Hall," or "Mechanics Institute," as some call it, located on Ninth Street, near the west end of the "Capitol Square." A Mr. Janney, a Union man, was elected President of the convention. He gave way, it was said, to the Secession clamor early, and Johnson, our standard bearer, made a weak plea for the Union, and utterly subsided, being utterly subjugated and subdued. The game was up then, and the final result was considered a mere matter of time.

JOHN MINOR BOTT'S SPEECH.

Mr. Botts had announced that he would address the mechanics and other Union men of Richmond on the state of the country and the Union at the African Church, so known as it had belonged to the slaves sometime before.

The Secesh populace and press howled, much as children do when they are threatened with the "bad man." The church was packed to the doors with determined men pledged to protect Mr. Botts from insult or arrest. The speech of Mr. Botts was an awful arraignment of the Secession leaders and their cause. His glowing tribute to the "Constitution and the Union" was never surpassed by any orator in America, and I doubt very much if it was ever equalled, not excepting even the great speech delivered by Daniel Webster in Congress just previous to the passage of the Nullification act by South Carolina, long ago.

Immediately after a great outburst of eloquence by Mr. Botts, accompanied by tremendous appllause, an indiscreet Secessionist present hissed very audibly two or three times, when 20 or 30 stout, loyal hands threw him out of the house through the door, thus violently exposing him and his Secessionism to the outer atmosphere. Quickly "as comets run" went the news, and in a few moments appeared the volunteer military company known as the "Richmond Blues," commanded by O. Jennings Wise, the oldest son of Henry A. Wise, of Virginia. The Blues, with Capt. Wise at their head, entered the church without ceremony, and rapidly took position to the left of the door they had entered, protecting their rear by forming their line with the backs of the men against the wall. Mr. Botts, looking sternly upon Wise and his soldiers, halted his speech, when cries of "Go on; we will protect you," from nearly all the person in the house fairly shook the "House of God."

Mr. Botts, presenting an appearance of calm fearlessness, like a lion at bay, said: "Friends, see what these people want." A committee immediately approached Capt. Wise and demanded his business abruptly. Wise replied that he had come by order of the authorities to keep the peace and prevent disorder. The committee replied that they were entirely competent to perform that duty. But Wise did not retire, and cries went up for Mr. Botts to "Go on; we will protect you." Mr. Botts went on and fairly emptied the vials of his wrath upon the heads of the Secession leaders and upon Wise, personally, and his people, even advancing to the end of the platform, shaking his finger at Wise defiantly. Wise turned pale, then red, and filed his men rapidly to the right, out of the house, through the portals, and was gone. A mighty cheer from the audience, then Mr. Botts gradually concluded his last public speech for the Union. A strong armed committee escorted him safely to his home. Lucifer's angels had been "hurled" from the church.

(more to follow...)

Unionblue

(Message edited by Unionblue on March 13, 2004)

[unionblue]

(Continued from the National Tribune, 7/27/1899.

STATE GUARDS.

Now I must entertain the reader regarding the Secession Convention and Mr. Wiley's last speech in Mechanics Hall. As Mr. Wiley concluded his great speech for the Union a great shout of approval went up from the Union men in the gallery, when President Janney, in a violent manner, ordered the Sergeant-at-Arms to "clear the gallery." The Sergeant appeared and ordered us out. No one noticed him, when he seized a man near us. A fight ensued, when a brawny blacksmith and a little reporter - Hughes by name, I think - promptly knocked the Sergeant-at-Arms over several benches and people, and he fell with a dull thud, indeed, to us - a classical expression.

We then retired, and in front of the door was drawn up the State Guard at 'shoulder arms." They had been summoned in a hurry, certainly. We all passed in front of their very faces, thus calmly reviewing Lucifer's armed angels. Not a word was uttered by any one as we marched past their front. After passing the State Guard and reaching Main Street, near by, all of the Union people expressed surprise that none of us was arrested, or an attempt in that direction made.

People from many points rapidly assembled in the vicinity of Mechanics Hall, but, after indulging in some derisive remarks concerning the convention, the State Guard gradually departed. During the excitement in the gallery, referred to above, the greatest agitation existed on the floor of the convention, members rushing hither and thither, violently gesticulating and shouting for "order." "Gentlemen may cry out for peace, but there is no peace."

Passing out I observed the graceful figure of Wiley, of West Virginia, standing gazing thoughtfully at the gallery and the Unionists who were departing. Janney, poor old creature, yelled and used his gavel to no purpose. Carlisle, of West Virginia, seemed by his actions to be protesting against the action of President Janney in ordering the galleries to be cleared. ...Soon after the scene referred to in the foregoing, the whole concern, with their documents and papers, was removed to the State Capitol Building, some hundred or so yards away. There, with guards all about them for protection, and the entire Capitol Square inclosed with a high and stout railing, they were safe from interruption.

Soon after this change of base they resolved themselves into a "secret session," and remained so until the Secession Ordinance was finally passed, on the 17th of April, 1861, I believe. The papers and the Secession Party generally claiming that the act was precipitated by the action of the Washington Government, the affair of Fort Sumter, and the bombardment of that fort by the Charleston Secessionists, etc.

The day or evening previous to the passage of the Ordinance of Secession at the State Capitol, Wiley and Carlisle, representatives from West Virginia, departed from Richmond, knowing full well the Ordinance of Secession would pass the next day, and it was so. These gentlemen made a grand fight for the Union, as I can personally bear testimony. But they preserved their honor untarnished to the end, and the people of West Virginia, and, in fact, the whole country, should hold them in loving and kind remembrance.

Submitted by Unionblue

[bill_torrens]

"A Union Man in Richmond" implicitly compares "the authority and power of God in the Heavens" with the "authority and power of the United States."

It is difficult to say whether his theological views are more or less confused that his constitutional ones. But as an encapsulation of Yankee hubris it couldn't be bettered.

[unionblue]

William,

Perhaps you should have ended your above with the statement, "But as an encapsulation of a 'Union man from Virginia" hubris it couldn't be bettered.

I wonder if a native Virginian would appreciate being called a 'Yankee' under any circumstances!

Sincerely,
Unionblue

[bill_torrens]

Dear Neil,

Hmmm....you may have a point.

Only a Virginian can really rule on this, although I would have thought that - in this context - a renegade Virginian could be viewed as a Yankee to all intents and purposes. Like the vile David Hunter, for example.

And what about that later reference to "the fairest earthly heaven beneath the stars"? Nauseating isn't the word....

With regards from Perfidious Albion,

Bill

[unionblue]

Dear William,

Weren't those from the South with Union leanings declared to be "Tories" by their fellow Southerners?

"I told him gently of our grievances, Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus,- By now forswearing that he is forsworn:
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge With haughty arms this hateful name in us."

Language, whatever the time, can be a funny or powerful thing.

Sincerely,
Unionblue

[bill_torrens]

Neil,

One of the interesting things about the word "Tory" is that its use as a synonym for "collaborator" or "traitor" is entirely unknown over here. Nowadays it is simply the informal name for the Conservative Party.

If you go back far enough it was, indeed, a term of political abuse (from memory I think a Tory was a kind of Irish bandit). And non-Conservatives fairly spit the word out when they use it, even today. But, as far as I know, the way you use the word in the States is unique to you.

[hoosier]

My impression has always been that the term "Tory" acquired its negative connotation in the States at the time of the American Revolution.

There were those who believed the American colonies should strive for independence and there were those who held the position that the colonies would be better off remaining a part of England. The latter group were more conservative than the former and were thus referred to by the name given to the Conservative Party.

While the war was going on (and, indeed, for a long time after the war was over), those who fought for independence were most bitterly resentful of those who had not supported the Revolution. Thus, the word "Tory" became an epithet.

It is open to speculation as to what word might have become an epithet had the British succeeded in suppressing the rebellion.

[thea_447]

After Burnside's humiliating defeat at the battle of Fredericksburg in December of 1862, his army remained in place around the town of Falmouth, Virginia, just across the Rappahannock river from Fredericksburg. In late January Burnside decided once again to attack the Confederates. The following is an account of that ill fated attempt.

". . . . . Beneath that hat and the gray weather, Burnside scouted up and down the Rappahannock. Everywhere he looked across he saw Lees troops digging deeper, throwing up earthworks, covering the riverside plain beneath the heights with interlocking lanes of fire from muskets and artillery. Lee was able to cover more than 25 miles of river line with his thinly stretched divisions, and guard at least 50 miles. Burnside, grieved by his own folly in direct assault in December, determined on deception. He ordered preparations as though for crossing at scattered points, miles apart. New roads were cut, pontoons brought up, guns dug in, companies marched back and forth, cavalry sent to demonstrate under enemy eyes.
Because the hills along the narrower Rappahannock upstream were the best site for his covering artillery, Burnside decided to move across United States Ford, ten miles above Fredericksburg. This sweeping maneuver would put him on the flank of Lees army. The New York Times man on the scene reported that "The plan was an excellent one. Every military man disapproved the mode of attack adopted last time. Every military man approved the mode of attack adopted this time." As Burnsides lumbering army began to move westward, all the while carrying on an elaborate feint downstream, Lee started to strengthen his left arm to fend off the coming thrust. Burnside, with a head start, altered his plan to aim at Banks Ford, a closer, quicker crossing. At dawn of January 21, engineers would push five bridges across; after that, two grand divisions (temporary Union command elements of two corps each) would be over the river in four hours. Meanwhile, another grand division would distract the Rebels by repeating the December crossing at Fredericksburg.
Burnsides order said the "great and auspicious moment has arrived to strike a great and mortal blow to the rebellion, and to gain that decisive victory which is due to the country." But before Union soldiers could start hauling their guns and pontoons into place, cold rain swirled down. The Times man, William Swinton, looked out. "The heavens showed all the signs of a terrible storm," he wrote. It became "a wild Walpurgis night."
By morning, the roads "were becoming shocking." Some 150 pieces of artillery were scheduled to be in place, and pontoons for five bridges. At the appointed hour, there were not enough for even a single bridge. Double and triple teams of horses and mules were hitched to each pontoon wagon. Long ropes were attached, and men leaned into them, sometimes 150 trying to move one boat. "They would founder through the mire for a few feet--the gang of Lilliputians with their huge-ribbed Gulliver--and then give up breathless." Night came again, and the pontoons still had not reached the river. Burnside rode up and down the columns. Here, he did the work of a captain by siting an artillery piece overlooking the river. There, he all but got down and put his shoulder to a rope. As the afternoon waned he rode through the camp of Brig. Gen. Albion P. Howes division. Burnside and his horse were "completely covered with mud, the rim of his hat turned down to shed the rain, his face careworn with this unexpected disarrangement of his plans," recalled the surgeon of the 77th New York. "We could but think that the soldier on foot, arm oppressed with the weight of knapsack, haversack and gun, bore an easy load compared with that of the commander of the army, who now saw departing his hopes of redeeming the prestige he had lost at Fredericksburg."
Burnside refused to give up; he ordered food forward for two more days. Next morning he authorized a whiskey ration for everyone. But the rain kept on. Swinton rode out and reported: "One might fancy some new geologic cataclysm had overtaken the world; and that he saw around him the elemental wrecks left by another Deluge. An indescribable chaos of pontoons, wagons and artillery encumbered the road down to the river. Horses and mules dropped down dead, exhausted with the effort to move their loads through the hideous medium. One hundred and fifty dead animals, many of them buried in the liquid muck, were counted in the course of a mornings ride." Burnsides problem was no longer how to cross and fight, but how to retrieve his army from the elements.
From across the river, the taunts of Rebels sang out. Every Yankee there remembered the sting of the broad signs put up by Lees watching men-- 'Burnside stuck in the mud" was the most frequent, and "This way to Richmond," and "Yanks, if you cant place your pontoons, we will send help." The Rebels had plowed the earth along their side of the river so that if any of Burnsides men did get across, they would sink into more mire.
But no Union soldiers would cross in the operation that history knows as the "Mud March." Their morale sank with their wagons and animals. That first night of rain, a captain of the 3rd New York Artillery sought out the sergeant of the guard. He found the sergeant drunk and reprimanded him. The sergeant ran for his pistol, and "like a madman" took out after the captain, who hid behind a tree, then stepped out and cut the man down with his sword. James Coburn, of the 141st Pennsylvania, wrote in his diary, "Continued cold and rainy--mud growing deep, deep, deeper--have had enough of winter campaigning. My diarrhea is growing worse. . . . This storm and exposure will kill thousands of our brave boys."
As Burnsides men dragged back toward their camps, mud-coated regiments were indistinguishable one from another. The army had become a disorganized crowd. And when the troops returned, they regretted the unthinking enthusiasm with which they had set out. Many, assuming they were on their way to Richmond, had burned their huts to the ground, so not a plank was to be found. J. L. Smith of the 18th Pennsylvania wrote home about passing other outfits and asking," 'Say, did you see Burnsides stuck in the mud back there? They said 'h--l with Burnsides! . . . Burnsides has bad luck. The men have no confidence in him; they all remember the terrible bloody Fredericksburg. If the troops don't have confidence, why the General may as well resign."
That very day, the general did. . . . . "

Source: "Chancellorsville 1863, The Souls of the Brave" by Ernest B. Furgurson