Chapter LVI
AUTHOR MAKES A SHORT VISIT TO THE CONTINENT--RETURNS TO LONDON, AND EMBARKS ON HIS RETURN TO THE CONFEDERATE STATES--LANDS AT BAGDAD, NEAR THE MOUTH OF THE RIO GRANDE--JOURNEY THROUGH TEXAS--REACHES LOUISIANA, AND CROSSES THE MISSISSIPPI; AND IN A FEW DAYS MORE IS AT HOME, AFTER AN ABSENCE OF FOUR YEARS.
I considered my career upon the high seas closed by the loss of my ship, and had so informed Commodore Barron, who was our Chief of Bureau in Paris. We had a number of gallant Confederate naval officers, both in England and France, eager and anxious to go afloat--more than could be provided with ships--and it would have been ungenerous in me to accept another command. Besides, my health was broken down to that degree, that I required absolute quiet, for some months, before I should again be fit for duty. I, therefore, threw off all care and responsibility, as soon as I had wound up the affairs of the Alabama, and went up to enjoy the hospitality of my friend Tremlett, at Belsize Park, in London. Here we arranged for a visit, of a few weeks, to the continent, and especially to the Swiss mountains, which was carried out in due time. One other gentleman, an amiable and accomplished sister of my friend Tremlett, and two other ladies, connections or friends of the family, accompanied us.
We were absent six weeks; landing at Ostend, passing hurriedly through Belgium--not forgetting, however, to visit the battle-field of Waterloo--stopping a few days at Spa, for the benefit of the waters, and then passing on to the Rhine; up that beautiful and historic river to Mayence, and thence to the Swiss lakes--drawing the first long breath at Geneva, where we rested a few days. There, reader! I have given you my European tour in a single paragraph; and as I am writing of the sea, and of war, and not of the land, or of peace, this is all the space I can appropriate to it. I must be permitted, however, to say of my friend Tremlett, that I found him a veteran traveller, who knew how to smooth all the difficulties of a journey; and of the ladies of our party, that their cheerfulness, good-humor, and kind attention to me, did quite as much as the Swiss mountain air toward the restoration of my health. I must be permitted to make another remark in connection with this journey. I found a number of exceedingly patriotic, young, able-bodied male Confederates, of a suitable age for bearing arms, travelling, with or without their papas and mammas, and boasting of the Confederacy! Most of these carpet-knights had been in Europe during the whole war.
Returning to London, in the latter days of September, a few days in advance of my travelling party, I made my preparations for returning to the Confederate States; and on the 3d of October, 1864, embarked on board the steamer Tasmanian, for Havana via St. Thomas. My intention was to pass into Texas, through the Mexican port of Matamoras. My journey, by this route, would occupy a little longer time, and be attended, perhaps, with some discomfort, but I should avoid the risk of the blockade, which was considerable. The enemy having resorted, literally, to the starving process, as being the only one which was likely to put an end to the war, had begun to burn our towns, lay waste our corn-fields, run off our negroes and cattle, and was now endeavoring to seal, hermetically, our ports. He had purchased all kinds of steamers--captured blockade-runners and others--which he had fitted out as ships of war, and he now had a fleet little short of five hundred sail. Acting, as before stated, on the principle of abandoning his commerce, he had concentrated all these before the blockaded ports, in such swarms, that it was next to impossible for a ship to run in or out, without his permission. I preferred not to fall into the enemy's hands, without the benefit of a capitulation. The very mention of my name had, as yet, some such effect upon the Yankee Government as the shaking of a red flag has before the blood-shot eyes of an infuriated bull. Mr. Seward gored, and pawed, and threw up the dust; and, above all, bellowed, whenever the vision of the Alabama flitted across his brain; and the "sainted Abe" was, in foreign affairs, but his man "Friday."
At St. Thomas we changed steamers, going on board the Solent--the transfer of passengers occupying only a few hours. The Solent ran down for the coast of Porto Rico, where she landed some passengers; passed thence to the north side of St. Domingo, thence into the Old Bahama Channel, and landed us at Havana, in the last days of October. Here we were compelled to wait, a few days, for a chance vessel to Matamoras, there being no regular packets. This enforced delay was tedious enough, though much alleviated by the companionship of a couple of agreeable fellow-passengers, who had embarked with me at Southampton, and who, like myself, were bound to Matamoras. One of these was Father Fischer, and the other, Mr. H. N. Caldwell, a Southern merchant. Father Fischer was a German by birth, but had emigrated in early youth to Mexico, where he had become a priest. He was a remarkable man, of commanding personal appearance, and a well-cultivated and vigorous intellect. He spoke half a dozen modern languages,--the English among the rest, with great precision and purity,--and both Caldwell and myself became much attached to him. He afterward played a very important role in the affairs of Mexico, becoming Maximilian's confessor, and one of his most trusted counsellors. He was imprisoned for a time, after the fall of the Empire, but was finally released, and has since made his way to Europe, with important papers belonging to the late unfortunate monarch, and will no doubt give us a history of the important episode in Mexican affairs in which he took part.
No other vessel offering, we were compelled to embark in a small Yankee schooner, still redolent of codfish, though wearing the English flag, to which she had recently been transferred. This little craft carried us safely across the Gulf of Mexico, after a passage of a week, and landed us at a sea-shore village, at the mouth of the Rio Grande, rejoicing in the dreamy eastern name of Bagdad. So unique was this little village, that I might have fancied it, as its name imported, really under the rule of Caliphs, but for certain signs of the Yankee which met my eye. The ubiquity of this people is marvellous. They scent their prey with the unerring instinct of the carrion-bird. I had encountered them all over the world, chasing the omnipotent dollar, notwithstanding the gigantic war they were carrying on at home; and here was this little village of Bagdad, on the Texan border, as full of them as an ant-hill is of ants; and the human ants were quite as busy as their insect prototypes. Numerous shanties had been constructed on the sands, out of unplaned boards. Some of these shanties were hotels, some billiard-saloons, and others grog-shops. The beach was piled with cotton bales going out, and goods coming in. The stores were numerous, and crowded with wares. Teamsters cracked their whips in the streets, and horsemen, booted and spurred, galloped hither and thither. The whole panorama looked like some magic scene, which might have been improvised in a night. The population was as heterogeneous as the dwellings. Whites, blacks, mulattos, and Indians were all mixed. But prominent above all stood the Yankee. The shanties were his, and the goods were his. He kept the hotels, marked the billiards, and sold the grog.
Pretty soon a coach drove up to the door of the hotel at which we were stopping, to take us to Matamoras, a distance of thirty miles. Here was the Yankee again. The coach had been built in Troy, New York. The horses were all northern horses--tall, strong, and gaunt, none of your Mexican mustangs. The Jehu was Yankee, a tall fellow, with fisherman's boots, and fancy top-hamper. The dried-up little Mexicans who attended to the horses, harnessing and unharnessing them, on the road, at the different relay stations, evidently stood in great awe of him. He took us into Matamoras "on time," and at the end of his journey, cracked his whip, and drew up his team at the hotel-door, with a flourish that would have done honor to Mr. Samuel Weller, senior, himself.
As great a revolution had taken place in Matamoras as at Bagdad. The heretofore quaint old Spanish town presented the very picture of a busy commercial mart. House-rent was at an enormous figure; the streets, as well as the stores, were piled with bales and boxes of merchandise, and every one you met seemed to be running somewhere, intent on business. Ox and mule teams from the Texan side of the river, were busy hauling the precious staple of the Southern States, which put all this commerce in motion, to Bagdad, for shipment; and anchored off that mushroom village, I had counted, as I landed, no less than sixty sail of ships--nearly all of them foreign. Fortunately for all this busy throng, Maximilian reigned supreme in Mexico, and his Lieutenant in Matamoras, General Mejia, gave security and protection to person and property, at the same time that he raised considerable revenue by the imposition of moderate taxes.
Colonel Ford, the commandant at Brownsville, on the opposite side of the river, came over to see me, and toward nightfall I returned with him to that place. We crossed the river in a skiff managed by a Mexican, and as my foot touched, for the first time in four years, the soil of my native South, I experienced, in their full force, the lines of the poet:--
"Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? Art thou a man?--a patriot?--look around; Oh! thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home!"
There were no hotels at Brownsville, but I was comfortably lodged for the night, with Colonel Beldon, the Collector of the port. The next morning I breakfasted with a large party at a neighboring restaurant, who had assembled thither to welcome me back to my native land; and when the breakfast was over, a coach and four, which was to take me on my way to Shreveport, in Louisiana, drew up at the door. An escort of cavalry had been provided, to accompany me as far as King's Ranch, a point at which the road approaches the coast, and where it was supposed that some of the enemy's gunboats might attempt to ambuscade me. I found, upon entering the coach, in which I was to be the only traveller, that my friends had provided for my journey in true Texan style; my outfit being a stout pair of gray blankets, which were to form my bed on the prairies for the next hundred miles, as we should have to travel that distance before we reached the shelter of a roof; a box containing a dozen bottles of excellent brandy, and cigars at discretion! As the driver cracked his whip, to put his mustangs in motion, and my escort clattered on ahead of me, the crowd who had gathered in the street to see me depart, launched me upon the prairie, with three hearty cheers, such as only Texan throats can give.
It so happened, that my major-domo for the journey, Sergeant ----, was the same who had conducted my friend, Colonel Freemantle, over this route, some two years before. I found him the same invaluable travelling companion. His lunch-baskets were always well filled, he knew everybody along the road, was unsurpassed at roasting a venison steak before a camp-fire on a forked stick, and made a capital cup of coffee. I missed the Judge, whom Freemantle so humorously describes, but I found a good many judges on the road, who might sit for his portrait. And now, for want of space, I must treat this journey as I did my European tour, give it to the reader in a paragraph. We were fourteen days on the road; passing through San Patricio on the Nueces, Gonzales on the Guadalupe, Houston, Hempstead, Navasota, Huntsville, Rusk, Henderson, and Marshall, arriving on the 27th of November at Shreveport. I was received, everywhere, with enthusiasm by the warm-hearted, brave Texans, the hotels being all thrown open to me, free of expense, and salutes of artillery greeting my entrance into the towns. I was frequently compelled to make short speeches to the people, merely that they might hear, as they said, "how the pirate talked;" and, I fear, I drank a good many more mint-juleps than were good for me. At table I was always seated on the right hand of the "landlady," and I was frequently importuned by a bevy of blooming lasses, to tell them "how I did the Yankees." Glorious Texas! what if thou art a little too much given to the Bowie-knife and revolver, and what if grass-widows are somewhat frequent in some of thy localities, thou art all right at heart! Liberty burns with a pure flame on thy prairies, and the day will yet come when thou wilt be free. Thy fate, thus far, has been a hard one. In a single generation thou hast changed thy political condition four times. When I first knew thee, thou wast a Mexican province. You then became an independent State. In an evil hour you were beguiled into accepting the fatal embrace of the Yankee. Learning your mistake, ere long, you united your fortunes with those of the Confederate States, in the hope again to be free. You did what it was in the power of mortals to do, but the Fates were adverse, and you have again been dragged down into worse than Mexican bondage. Bide thy time! Thou art rapidly filling up with population. Thou wilt soon become an empire in thyself, and the day is not far distant, when thou mayest again strike for freedom!
At Shreveport, I was hospitably entertained at the mansion of Colonel Williamson, serving on the staff of the commanding general of the Trans-Mississippi Department, Kirby Smith. The Mayor and a deputation of the Councils waited on me, and tendered me a public dinner, but I declined. I remained with Colonel Williamson a couple of days, and the reader may imagine how agreeable this relaxation, in comfortable quarters, was to me, after a journey of fourteen consecutive days and nights, in a stage-coach, through a rough, and comparatively wild country. Governor Allen was making Shreveport the temporary seat of government of Louisiana, and I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, and dining with him, in company with General Smith and his staff. The Governor was not only a genial, delightful companion, but a gallant soldier, who had rendered good service to the Confederacy at the head of his regiment. He had been terribly wounded, and was still hobbling about on crutches. He seemed to be the idol of the people of his State. He was as charitable and kind-hearted as brave, and the needy soldier, or soldier's wife, never left his presence without the aid they came to seek.
My object in taking Shreveport in my route, instead of striking for the Red River, some distance below, was to meet my son, Major O. J. Semmes, who, I had been informed at Brownsville, was serving in this part of Louisiana. In the beginning of the war he withdrew from West Point, where he was within a year of graduating, and offered his sword to his State--Alabama. I had not seen him since. He was now a major of artillery, commanding a battalion in General Buckner's army, stationed at Alexandria. Thither I now directed my course. The river being too low for boating, I was forced to make another land journey. The General kindly put an ambulance at my disposal, and my host, with the forethought of a soldier, packed me a basket of provisions. My friend and travelling companion, viz., the Jehu, who was to drive me, was an original. He was from Ohio, and had served throughout the war as a private soldier in the Confederate army. He had been in a good many fights and skirmishes, and was full of anecdote. If he had an antipathy in the world, it was against the Yankee, and nothing gave him half so much pleasure, as to "fight his battles o'er again." As I had a journey of four or five days before me--the distance being 140 miles over execrable roads--the fellow was invaluable to me. We passed through several of the localities where General Banks had been so shamefully beaten by General Dick Taylor,--at Mansfield, Pleasant Hill, and Monett's Ferry. The fields were still strewn with the carcasses of animals; a few, unmarked hillocks, here and there, showed where soldiers had been buried; and the rent and torn timber marked the course of the cannon-balls that had carried death to either side. The Vandals, in their retreat, had revenged themselves on the peaceful inhabitants, and every few miles the charred remains of a dwelling told where some family had been unhoused, and turned into the fields by the torch.
At Alexandria, I was kindly invited by General Buckner to become his guest during my stay, and he sent a courier at once to inform my son, who was encamped a few miles below the town, of my arrival. The latter came to see me the same afternoon. I remained in the hospitable quarters of the General a week before the necessary arrangements could be made for my crossing the Mississippi. The enemy being in full possession of this river by means of his gunboats, it was a matter of some little management to cross in safety. The trans-Mississippi mails to Richmond had been sent over, however, quite regularly, under the personal superintendence of a young officer, detailed for the purpose, and the General was kind enough to arrange for my crossing with this gentleman. The news of my passing through Texas had reached the enemy at New Orleans, as we learned by his newspapers, and great vigilance had been enjoined on his gunboats to intercept me, if possible. Our arrangements being completed, I left Alexandria on the 10th of December, accompanied by my son, who had obtained a short leave of absence for the purpose of visiting his home, and reached the little village of Evergreen the next day. Arrived at this point, we were joined by our companions of the mail service, and on the 13th we crossed both the Red and Mississippi Rivers in safety.
The journey through the swamps, leading to these rivers, was unique. We performed it on horseback, pursuing mere bridle-paths and cattle-tracks, in single file, like so many Indians. Our way sometimes led us through a forest of gigantic trees, almost entirely devoid of under-growth, and resembling very much, though after a wild fashion, the park scenery of England. At other times we would plunge into a dense, tangled brake, where the interlaced grape and other vines threatened every moment, to drag us from our saddles. The whole was a drowned country, and impassable during the season of rains. It was now low water, and as we rode along, the high-water marks on the trees were visible, many feet above our heads. From this description of the country, the reader will see how impossible it was for artillery or cavalry, or even infantry, to operate on the banks of these rivers, during a greater part of the year. Except at a few points, the enemy's gunboats were almost as secure from attack as they would have been, on the high seas. Occasionally, we had to swim a deep bayou, whose waters looked as black as those of the Stygian Lake; but if the bayou was wide, as well as deep, we more frequently dismounted, stripped our horses, and surrounding them, and shouting at them, made them take the water in a drove, and swim over by themselves. We then crossed in skiffs, which the mail-men had provided for the purpose, and caught and resaddled our horses for a fresh mount.
We reached the bank of the Mississippi just before dark. There were two of the enemy's gunboats anchored in the river, at a distance of about three miles apart. As remarked in another place, the enemy had converted every sort of a water craft, into a ship of war, and now had them in such number, that he was enabled to police the river in its entire length, without the necessity of his boats being out of sight of each other's smoke. The officers of these river craft were mostly volunteers from the merchant service, whose commissions would expire with the war, and a greater set of predatory rascals was, perhaps, never before collected in the history of any government. They robbed the plantations, and demoralized them by trade, at the same time. Our people were hard pressed for the necessaries of life, and a constant traffic was being carried on with them, by these armed river steamers, miscalled ships of war.
It would not do, of course, for us to attempt the passage of the river, until after dark; and so we held ourselves under cover of the forest, until the proper moment, and then embarked in a small skiff, sending back the greater part of our escort. Our boat was scarcely able to float the numbers that were packed into her. Her gunwales were no more than six inches above the water's edge. Fortunately for us, however, the night was still, and the river smooth, and we pulled over without accident. As we shot within the shadows of the opposite bank, our conductor, before landing, gave a shrill whistle to ascertain whether all was right. The proper response came directly, from those who were to meet us, and in a moment more, we leaped on shore among friends. We found spare horses awaiting us, and my son and myself slept that night under the hospitable roof of Colonel Rose. The next morning the colonel sent us to Woodville, in his carriage, and in four or five days more, we were in Mobile, and I was at home again, after an absence of four years!
Chapter LVII
AUTHOR SETS OUT FOR RICHMOND--IS TWO WEEKS IN MAKING THE JOURNEY--INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT DAVIS; WITH GENERAL LEE--AUTHOR IS APPOINTED A REAR-ADMIRAL, AND ORDERED TO COMMAND THE JAMES RIVER SQUADRON--ASSUMES COMMAND; CONDITION OF THE FLEET--GREAT DEMORALIZATION--THE ENEMY'S ARMIES GRADUALLY INCREASING--LEE'S LINES BROKEN.
I telegraphed my arrival, immediately, to the Secretary of the Navy at Richmond, informing him of my intention to proceed to that capital after resting for a few days. The following reply came over the wires, in the course of a few hours. "Congratulate you, on your safe arrival. When ready to come on, regard this as an order to report to the Department." I did not, of course, dally long at home. The enemy was pressing us too hard for me to think of sitting down in inglorious ease, so long as it was possible that I might be of service. At all events, it was my duty to present myself to the Government, and see if it had any commands for me. Accordingly, on the 2d of January, 1865, I put myself en route for Richmond. I was two weeks making my way to the capital of the Confederacy, owing the many breaks which had been made in the roads by raiding parties of the enemy, and by Sherman's march through Georgia. Poor Georgia! she had suffered terribly during this Vandal march of conflagration and pillage, and I found her people terribly demoralized. I stopped a day in Columbia, the beautiful capital of South Carolina, afterward so barbarously burned by a drunken and disorderly soldierly, with no officer to raise his hand to stay the conflagration. Passing on, as soon as some temporary repairs could be made on a break in the road, ahead of me, I reached Richmond, without further stoppages, and was welcomed at his house, by my friend and relative, the Hon. Thomas J. Semmes, a senator in the Confederate Congress from the State of Louisiana.
I had thus travelled all the way from the eastern boundary of Mexico, to Richmond, by land, a journey, which, perhaps, has seldom been performed. In this long and tedious journey, through the entire length of the Confederacy, I had been painfully struck with the changed aspect of things, since I had left the country in the spring of 1861. Plantations were ravaged, slaves were scattered, and the country was suffering terribly for the want of the most common necessaries of life. Whole districts of country had been literally laid waste by the barbarians who had invaded us. The magnificent valley of the Red River, down which, as the reader has seen, I had recently travelled, had been burned and pillaged for the distance of a hundred and fifty miles. Neither Alaric, nor Attila ever left such a scene of havoc and desolation in his rear. Demoniac Yankee hate had been added to the thirst for plunder. Sugar-mills, saw-mills, salt-works, and even the grist-mills which ground the daily bread for families, had been laid in ashes--their naked chimneys adding ghastliness to the picture. Reeling, drunken soldiers passed in and out of dwellings, plundering and insulting their inmates; and if disappointed in the amount of their plunder, or resisted, applied the torch in revenge. Many of these miscreants were foreigners, incapable of speaking the English language. The few dwellings that were left standing, looked like so many houses of mourning. Once the seats of hospitality and refinement, and the centres of thrifty plantations, with a contented and happy laboring population around them, they were now shut up and abandoned. There was neither human voice in the hall, nor neigh of steed in the pasture. The tenantless negro cabins told the story of the war. The Yankee had liberated the slave, and armed him to make war upon his former master. The slaves who had not been enlisted in the Federal armies, were wandering, purposeless, about the country, in squads, thieving, famishing, and dying. This was the character of the war our brethren of the North--God save the mark--were making upon us.
To add to the heart-sickening features of the picture, our own people had become demoralized! Men, generally, seemed to have given up the cause as lost, and to have set themselves at work, like wreckers, to save as much as possible from the sinking ship. The civilians had betaken themselves to speculation and money-getting, and the soldiers to drinking and debauchery. Such, in brief, was the picture which presented itself to my eyes as I passed through the Confederacy. The Alabama had gone to her grave none too soon. If she had not been buried with the honors of war, with the howling winds of the British Channel to sing her requiem, she might soon have been handed over to the exultant Yankee, to be exhibited at Boston, as a trophy of the war.
My first official visit in Richmond was, of course, to the President. I found him but little changed, in personal appearance, since I had parted with him in Montgomery, the then seat of government, in April, 1861. But he was evidently deeply impressed with the critical state of the country, though maintaining an outward air of cheerfulness and serenity. I explained to him briefly, what, indeed, he already knew too well, the loss of my ship. He was kind enough to say that, though he deeply regretted her loss, he knew that I had acted for the best, and that he had nothing with which to reproach me. I dined with him on a subsequent day. There was only one other guest present. Mrs. Davis was more impressed with events than the President. With her womanly instinct, she already saw the handwriting on the wall. But though the coming calamity would involve her household in ruin, she maintained her self-possession and cheerfulness. The Congress, which was in session, received me with a distinction which I had little merited. Both houses honored me by a vote of thanks for my services, and invited me to a privileged seat on the floor. The legislature of Virginia, also in session, extended to me the same honors.
As soon as I could command a leisure moment, I paid General Lee a visit, at his headquarters near Petersburg, and spent a night with him. I had served with him in the Mexican war. We discussed together the critical state of the country, and of his army,--we were now near the end of January, 1865,--and I thought the grand old chieftain and Christian gentleman seemed to foreshadow, in his conversation--more by manner than by words--the approaching downfall of the cause for which we were both struggling. I had come to him, I told him, to speak of what I had seen of the people, and of the army, in my transit across the country, and to say to him, that unless prompt measures could be devised to put an end to the desertions that were going on among our troops, our cause must inevitably be lost. He did not seem to be at all surprised at the revelations I made. He knew all about the condition of the country, civil and military, but seemed to feel himself powerless to prevent the downward tendency of things. And he was right. It was no longer in the power of any one man to save the country. The body-politic was already dead. The people themselves had given up the contest, and this being the case, no army could do more than retard the catastrophe for a few months. Besides, his army was, itself, melting away. That very night--as I learned the next morning, at the breakfast table--160 men deserted in a body! It was useless to attempt to shoot deserters, when demoralization had gone to this extent.
After I had been in Richmond a few weeks, the President was pleased to nominate me to the Senate as a rear-admiral. My nomination was unanimously confirmed, and, in a few days afterward, I was appointed to the command of the James River fleet. My commission ran as follows:--
CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA, NAVY DEPARTMENT, RICHMOND, February 10, 1865.
REAR-ADMIRAL RAPHAEL SEMMES.
SIR:--You are hereby informed that the President has appointed you, by and with the advice of the Senate, a Rear-Admiral, in the Provisional Navy of the Confederate States, "for gallant and meritorious conduct, in command of the steam-sloop Alabama." You are requested to signify your acceptance, or non-acceptance of this appointment.
S. R. MALLORY, Secretary of the Navy.
An old and valued friend, Commodore J. K. Mitchell, had been in command of the James River fleet, and I displaced him very reluctantly. He had organized and disciplined the fleet, and had accomplished with it all that was possible, viz., the protection of Richmond by water. I assumed my command on the 18th of February, 1865. My fleet consisted of three iron-clads and five wooden gunboats. I found my old first lieutenant, Kell, who had preceded me to Richmond, and been made a commander, in command of one of the iron-clads, but he was soon obliged to relinquish his command, on account of failing health. As reorganized, the fleet stood as follows:--
Virginia, iron-clad, flag-ship, four guns, Captain Dunnington.
Richmond, iron-clad, four guns, Captain Johnson.
Fredericksburg, iron-clad, four guns, Captain Glassel.
Hampton, wooden, two guns, Captain Wilson, late of the Alabama.
Nansemond, wooden, two guns, Captain Butt.
Roanoke, wooden, two guns, Captain Pollock.
Beaufort, wooden, two guns, Captain Wyatt.
Torpedo, wooden, one gun, Captain Roberts.
The fleet was assisted, in the defence of the river, by several shore batteries, in command of naval officers; as Drury's Bluff; Battery Brooke; Battery Wood, and Battery Semmes--the whole under the command of my old friend, Commodore John R. Tucker.
I soon had the mortification to find that the fleet was as much demoralized as the army. Indeed, with the exception of its principal officers, and about half a dozen sailors in each ship, its personnel was drawn almost entirely from the army. The movements of the ships being confined to the head-waters of a narrow river, they were but little better than prison-ships. Both men and officers were crowded into close and uncomfortable quarters, without the requisite space for exercise. I remedied this, as much as possible, by sending squads on shore, to drill and march on the river-bank. They were on half rations, and with but a scanty supply of clothing. Great discontent and restlessness prevailed. Constant applications were coming to me for leaves of absence--almost every one having some story to tell of a sick or destitute family. I was obliged, of course, to resist all these appeals. "The enemy was thundering at the gates," and not a man could be spared. Desertion was the consequence. Sometimes an entire boat's crew would run off, leaving the officer to find his way on board the best he might. The strain upon them had been too great. It was scarcely to be expected of men, of the class of those who usually form the rank and file of ships' companies, that they would rise above their natures, and sacrifice themselves by slow but sure degrees, in any cause, however holy. The visions of home and fireside, and freedom from restraint were too tempting to be resisted. The general understanding, that the collapse of the Confederacy was at hand, had its influence with some of the more honorable of them. They reasoned that their desertion would be but an anticipation of the event by a few weeks.
To add to the disorder, the "Union element," as it was called, began to grow bolder. This element was composed mainly of Northern-born men, who had settled among us before the war. In the height of the war, when the Southern States were still strong, and when independence was not only possible, but probable, these men pretended to be good Southerners. The Puritan leaven, which was in their natures, was kept carefully concealed. Hypocrisy was now no longer necessary. Many of these men were preachers of the various denominations, and schoolmasters. These white-cravatted gentlemen now sprang into unusual activity. Every mail brought long and artfully written letters from some of these scoundrels, tempting my men to desert. Some of these letters came under my notice, and if I could have gotten hold of the writers, I should have been glad to give them the benefit of a short shrift, and one of my yard-arms. If I had had my fleet upon the sea, it would have been an easy matter to restore its discipline, but my ships were, in fact, only so many tents, into which entered freely all the bad influences of which I speak. I was obliged to perform guard-boat duty on the river, and picket duty on shore, and these duties gave my men all the opportunities of escape that they desired.
With regard to the defence of Richmond by water, I felt quite secure. No fleet of the enemy could have passed my three iron-clads, moored across the stream, in the only available channel, with obstructions below me, which would hold it under my fire, and that of the naval batteries on shore by which I was flanked. Indeed, the enemy, seeing the hopelessness of approach by water, had long since given up the idea. The remainder of the winter passed slowly and tediously enough. A few months earlier, and I might have had something to occupy me. For a long time, there was no more than a single iron-clad in the lower James, the enemy being busy with Charleston and Wilmington. An attack on City Point, Grant's base of operations, and whence he drew all his supplies, would have been quite practicable. If the store-houses at that place could have been burned, there is no telling what might have been the consequences. But now, Charleston and Wilmington having fallen, and the enemy having no further use for his iron-clad fleet, on the coasts of North and South Carolina, he had concentrated the whole of it on the lower James, under the command of Admiral Porter, who, as the reader has seen, had chased me, so quixotically, in the old frigate Powhattan, in the commencement of the war. At first, this concentration looked like a preparation for an attempted ascent of the river, but if any attempt of the kind was ever entertained by Porter, he had the good sense, when he came to view the "situation," to abandon it.
I usually visited the Navy Department, during this anxious period, once a week, to confer with the Secretary on the state of my fleet, and the attitude of the enemy, and to receive any orders or suggestions that the Government might have to make. Mr. Mallory was kind enough, on these occasions, to give me carte blanche, and leave me pretty much to myself. At length the winter passed, and spring set in. The winds and the sun of March began to dry the roads, and put them in good order for military operations, and every one anticipated stirring events. As I sat in my twilight cabin, on board the Virginia, and pored over the map of North Carolina, and plotted upon it, from day to day, the approaches of Sherman, the prospect seemed gloomy enough. As before remarked, Charleston and Wilmington had fallen. With the latter, we had lost our last blockade-running port. Our ports were now all hermetically sealed. The anaconda had, at last, wound his fatal folds around us. With fields desolated at home, and all supplies from abroad cut off, starvation began to stare us in the face. Charleston was evacuated on the 17th of February--General Hardee having no more than time to get his troops out of the city, and push on ahead of Sherman, and join General Joseph E. Johnson, who had again been restored to command. Fort Anderson, the last defence of Wilmington, fell on the 19th of the same month. Sherman was, about this time, at Columbia, South Carolina, where he forever disgraced himself by burning, or permitting to be burned, it matters not which, that beautiful city, which had already surrendered to his arms. The opportunity was too good to be lost. The Puritan was at last in the city of the cavalier. The man of ruder habits and coarser civilization, was in the presence of the more refined gentleman whom he had envied and hated for generations. The ignoble passions of race-hatred and revenge were gratified, and Massachusetts, through the agency of a brutal and debauched soldiery, had put her foot upon the neck of prostrate South Carolina! This was humiliation indeed! The coarse man of mills and manufactures had at last found entrance as a master into the halls of the South Carolina planter!
It was generally expected that Sherman would move upon Charlotte, North Carolina, one of the most extensive depots of the South, and thence to Danville, and so on to Richmond, to unite his forces with those of Grant. There was nothing to oppose him. In ten days at the farthest, after burning Columbia, he could have effected a junction with Grant before Petersburg. But the "great commander" seemed suddenly to have lost his courage, and to the astonishment of every one, soon after passing Winsboro', North Carolina, which lies on the road to Charlotte, he swung his army off to the right, and marched in the direction of Fayetteville! His old antagonist, Johnston, was endeavoring to gather together the broken remains of the Army of the Tennessee, and he was afraid of him. His object now was to put himself in communication with Schofield, who had landed at Wilmington and at Newbern with a large force, and establish a new base of operations at these points. He would be safe here, as his troops could be fed, and in case of disaster, he could fall back upon the sea, and upon Porter's gunboats. He effected the contemplated junction with Schofield, at Goldsboro', North Carolina, on the 21st of March. He had not touched any of Lee's communications with his depots since leaving Winsboro'; the destruction of which communications Grant had so much at heart, and which had been the chief object of his--Sherman's--"great march." At Goldsboro' he was still 150 miles from Grant's lines, and he took no further part in the campaign.
His junction with Schofield had not been effected without disaster. At Kinston, Bragg gained a victory over Schofield, utterly routing him, and taking 1500 prisoners; and at Bentonsville, Johnston checked, and gained some advantage over Sherman. As the reader is supposed to be looking over the map with me, we will now stick a pin in the point representing Goldsboro', and throw Sherman and Schofield out of view.
In the latter part of March, Sheridan, having overrun Early's small force, in the valley of the Shenandoah, found himself at liberty to join General Grant. He brought with him from 10,000 to 12,000 excellent cavalry. Grant's army was thus swollen to 160,000 men. Adding Sherman's and Schofield's forces of 100,000, we have 260,000. In the meantime, Lee's half-starved, ragged army, had dwindled to 33,000. With this small number of men he was compelled to guard an intrenched line of forty miles in length, extending from the north side of the James River, below Richmond, to Hatcher's Run, south of Petersburg. As a mere general, he would have abandoned the hopeless task long ago, extricating his army, and throwing it into the field, but cui bono? With Virginia in the enemy's possession, with a beaten people, and an army fast melting away by desertion, could the war be continued with any hope of success? If we could not defend ourselves before Richmond, could we defend ourselves anywhere? That was the question.
Grant's object was to force Lee's right in the vicinity of Hatcher's Run; but he masked this intention, as much as possible, by occasionally threatening the whole line. I had frequent opportunity, from the deck of my flag-ship, to witness terrible artillery conflicts where nobody was killed. Suddenly, on a still night, all the enemy's batteries would be ablaze, and the heavens aroar with his firing. The expenditure of powder was enormous, and must have gladdened the hearts of the Yankee contractors. I would sometimes be aroused from slumber, and informed that a great battle was going on. On one or two occasions, I made some slight preparations for defence, myself, not knowing but Porter might be fool enough to come up the river, under the inspiration of this powder-burning, and booming of cannon. But it all amounted to nothing more than Chinese grimaces, and "stink-pots," resorted to to throw Lee off his guard, and prevent him from withdrawing men from his left, to reinforce his right.
The final and successful assault of Grant was not long delayed. The lines in the vicinity of Petersburg having been weakened, by the necessity of withdrawing troops to defend Lee's extreme right, resting now on a point called the Five Forks, Grant, on the morning of Sunday, the 2d of April, made a vigorous assault upon them, and broke them. Lee's army was uncovered, and Richmond was no longer tenable!
Chapter LVIII
THE EVACUATION OF RICHMOND BY THE ARMY--THE DESTRUCTION OF THE JAMES RIVER FLEET--THE SAILORS OF THE FLEET CONVERTED INTO SOLDIERS--THEIR HELPLESS CONDITION WITHOUT ANY MEANS OF TRANSPORTATION--THE CONFLAGRATION OF RICHMOND AND THE ENTRY OF THE ENEMY INTO THE CONFEDERATE CAPITAL--THE AUTHOR IMPROVISES A RAILROAD TRAIN, AND ESCAPES IN IT WITH HIS COMMAND, TO DANVILLE, VA.
As I was sitting down to dinner, about four o'clock, on the afternoon of the disastrous day mentioned in the last chapter, on board my flag-ship, the Virginia, one of the small steamers of my fleet came down from Richmond, having on board a special messenger from the Navy Department. Upon being introduced into my cabin, the messenger presented me with a sealed package. Up to this time, I was ignorant, of course, of what had occurred at Petersburg. I broke the seal and read as follows:--
CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA, EXECUTIVE OFFICE, RICHMOND, VA., April 2, 1865.
REAR ADMIRAL RAPHAEL SEMMES, Commanding James River Squadron.
SIR:--General Lee advises the Government to withdraw from this city, and the officers will leave this evening, accordingly. I presume that General Lee has advised you of this, and of his movements, and made suggestions as to the disposition to be made of your squadron. He withdraws upon his lines toward Danville, this night; and unless otherwise directed by General Lee, upon you is devolved the duty of destroying your ships, this night, and with all the forces under your command, joining General Lee. Confer with him, if practicable, before destroying them. Let your people be rationed, as far as possible, for the march, and armed and equipped for duty in the field. Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
S. R. MALLORY, Secretary of the Navy.
This was rather short notice. Richmond was to be evacuated during the night, during which I was to burn my ships, accoutre and provision my men, and join General Lee! But I had become used to emergencies, and was not dismayed. I signalled all my captains to come on board, and communicated to them the intelligence I had received, and concerted with them the programme of the night's work. It was not possible to attempt anything before dark, without exciting the suspicions of the enemy, as we were no more than four or five miles from his lines; and I enjoined upon my commanders the necessity of keeping their secret, until the proper moment for action should arrive. The sun was shining brightly, the afternoon was calm, and nature was just beginning to put on her spring attire. The fields were green with early grass, the birds were beginning to twitter, and the ploughman had already broken up his fields for planting his corn. I looked abroad upon the landscape, and contrasted the peace and quiet of nature, so heedless of man's woes, with the disruption of a great Government, and the ruin of an entire people which were at hand!
So unsuspicious were the Government subordinates, of what was going on, that the flag-of-truce boats were still plying between Richmond, and the enemy's head-quarters, a few miles below us, on the river, carrying backward and forward exchanged prisoners. As those boats would pass us, coming up the river, filled to overflowing with our poor fellows just released from Yankee prisons, looking wan and hollow-eyed, the prisoners would break into the most enthusiastic cheering as they passed my flag. It seemed to welcome them home. They little dreamed, that it would be struck that night, forever, and the fleet blown into the air; that their own fetters had been knocked off in vain, and that they were to pass, henceforth, under the rule of the hated Yankee. I was sick at heart as I listened to those cheers, and reflected upon the morrow.
General Lee had failed to give me any notice of his disaster, or of what his intentions were. As mine was an entirely independent command, he, perhaps, rightly considered, that it was the duty of the Executive Government to do this. Still, in accordance with the expressed wishes of Mr. Mallory, I endeavored to communicate with him; sending an officer on shore to the signal station, at Drury's Bluff, for the purpose. No response came, however, to our telegrams, and night having set in, I paid no further attention to the movements of the army. I plainly saw that it was a case of sauve qui peut, and that I must take care of myself. I was to make another Alabama-plunge into the sea, and try my luck. Accordingly, when night drew her friendly curtain between the enemy and myself, I got all my ships under way, and ran up to Drury's Bluff. It was here I designed to blow up the iron-clads, throw their crews on board the wooden gunboats, and proceed in the latter to Manchester, opposite Richmond, on my way to join General Lee. Deeming secrecy of great importance to the army, in its attempted escape from its lines, my first intention was to sink my fleet quietly, instead of blowing it up, as the explosions would give the enemy notice of what was going on. The reader may judge of my surprise, when, in the course of an hour or two after dark, I saw the whole horizon, on the north side of the James, glowing with fires of burning quarters, materiel, &c., lighted by our own troops, as they successively left their intrenchments! Concealment on my part was no longer necessary or indeed practicable.
I now changed my determination and decided upon burning my fleet. My officers and men worked like beavers. There were a thousand things to be done. The sailor was leaving the homestead which he had inhabited for several months. Arms had to be served out, provisions gotten up out of the hold, and broken into such packages, as the sailors could carry. Hammocks had to be unlashed, and the blankets taken out, and rolled up as compactly as possible. Haversacks and canteens had to be improvised. These various operations occupied us until a late hour. It was between two and three o'clock in the morning, before the crews of the iron-clads were all safely embarked on board the wooden gunboats, and the iron-clads were well on fire. My little squadron of wooden boats now moved off up the river, by the glare of the burning iron-clads. They had not proceeded far, before an explosion, like the shock of an earthquake, took place, and the air was filled with missiles. It was the blowing up of the Virginia, my late flag-ship. The spectacle was grand beyond description. Her shell-rooms had been full of loaded shells. The explosion of the magazine threw all these shells, with their fuses lighted, into the air. The fuses were of different lengths, and as the shells exploded by twos and threes, and by the dozen, the pyrotechnic effect was very fine. The explosion shook the houses in Richmond, and must have waked the echoes of the night for forty miles around.
There are several bridges spanning the James between Drury's Bluff and the city, and at one of these we were detained an hour, the draw being down to permit the passage of some of the troops from the north side of the river, who had lighted the bonfires of which I have spoken. Owing to this delay, the sun--a glorious, unclouded sun, as if to mock our misfortunes--was now rising over Richmond. Some windows, which fronted to the east, were all aglow with his rays, mimicking the real fires that were already breaking out in various parts of the city. In the lower part of the city, the School-ship Patrick Henry was burning, and some of the houses near the Navy Yard were on fire. But higher up was the principal scene of the conflagration. Entire blocks were on fire here, and a dense canopy of smoke, rising high in the still morning air, was covering the city as with a pall. The rear-guard of our army had just crossed, as I landed my fleet at Manchester, and the bridges were burning in their rear. The Tredegar Iron Works were on fire, and continual explosions of loaded shell stored there were taking place. In short, the scene cannot be described by mere words, but the reader may conceive a tolerable idea of it, if he will imagine himself to be looking on Pandemonium broken loose.
The population was in a great state of alarm. Hundreds of men and women had sought refuge on the Manchester side, in the hope of getting away, by some means or other, they knew not how. I was, myself, about the most helpless man in the whole crowd. I had just tumbled on shore, with their bags and baggage, 500 sailors, incapable of marching a dozen miles without becoming foot-sore, and without any means, whatever, of transportation being provided for them. I had not so much as a pack-mule to carry a load of provisions. I was on foot, myself, in the midst of my men. A current of horsemen, belonging to our retreating column, was sweeping past me, but there was no horse for me to mount. It was every man for himself, and d----l take the hindmost. Some of the young cavalry rascals--lads of eighteen or twenty--as they passed, jibed and joked with my old salts, asking them how they liked navigating the land, and whether they did not expect to anchor in Fort Warren pretty soon? The spectacle presented by my men was, indeed, rather a ludicrous one; loaded down, as they were, with pots, and pans, and mess-kettles, bags of bread, and chunks of salted pork, sugar, tea, tobacco, and pipes. It was as much as they could do to stagger under their loads--marching any distance seemed out of the question. As I reviewed my "troops," after they had been drawn up by my captains, who were now all become colonels, I could not but repeat to myself Mr. Mallory's last words--"You will join General Lee, in the field, with all your forces."
Yes; here were my "forces," but where, the d----l, was General Lee, and how was I to join him? If I had had the Secretary of the Navy, on foot, by the side of me, I rather think this latter question would have puzzled him.
But there was no time to be lost,--I must do something. The first thing, of course, after landing my men, was to burn my wooden gunboats. This was done. They were fired, and shoved off from the landing, and permitted to float down the stream. I then "put my column in motion," and we "marched" a distance of several squares, blinded by the dust kicked up by those vagabonds on horseback, before mentioned. When we came in sight of the railroad depot, I halted, and inquired of some of the fugitives who were rushing by, about the trains. "The trains!" said they, in astonishment at my question; "the last train left at daylight this morning--it was filled with the civil officers of the Government." Notwithstanding this answer, I moved my command up to the station and workshops, to satisfy myself by a personal inspection. It was well that I did so, as it saved my command from the capture that impended over it. I found it quite true, that the "last train" had departed; and, also, that all the railroad-men had either run off in the train, or hidden themselves out of view. There was no one in charge of anything, and no one who knew anything. But there was some material lying around me; and, with this, I resolved to set up railroading on my own account. Having a dozen and more steam-engineers along with me, from my late fleet, I was perfectly independent of the assistance of the alarmed railroad-men, who had taken to flight.
A pitiable scene presented itself, upon our arrival at the station. Great numbers had flocked thither, in the hope of escape; frightened men, despairing women, and crying children. Military patients had hobbled thither from the hospitals; civil employees of the Government, who had missed the "last train," by being a little too late, had come to remedy their negligence; and a great number of other citizens, who were anxious to get out of the presence of the hated Yankee, had rushed to the station, they scarcely knew why. These people had crowded into, and on the top of, a few straggling passenger-cars, that lay uncoupled along the track, in seeming expectation that some one was to come, in due time, and take them off. There was a small engine lying also on the track, but there was no fire in its furnace, no fuel with which to make a fire, and no one to manage it. Such was the condition of affairs when I "deployed" my "forces" upon the open square, and "grounded arms,"--the butts of my rifles not ringing on the ground quite as harmoniously as I could have desired. Soldiering was new to Jack; however, he would do better by-and-by.
My first move was to turn all these wretched people I have described out of the cars. Many plaintive appeals were made to me by the displaced individuals, but my reply to them all was, that it was better for an unarmed citizen to fall into the hands of the enemy, than a soldier with arms in his hands. The cars were then drawn together and coupled, and my own people placed in them. We next took the engine in hand. A body of my marine "sappers and miners" were set at work to pull down a picket fence, in front of one of the dwellings, and chop it into firewood. An engineer and firemen were detailed for the locomotive, and in a very few minutes, we had the steam hissing from its boiler. I now permitted as many of the frightened citizens as could find places to clamber upon the cars. All being in readiness, with the triumphant air of a man who had overcome a great difficulty, and who felt as if he might snap his fingers at the Yankees once more, I gave the order to "go ahead." But this was easier said than done. The little locomotive started at a snail's pace, and drew us creepingly along, until we reached a slightly ascending grade, which occurs almost immediately after leaving the station. Here it came to a dead halt. The firemen stirred their fires, the engineer turned on all his steam, the engine panted and struggled and screamed, but all to no purpose. We were effectually stalled. Our little iron horse was incompetent to do the work which had been required of it. Here was a predicament!
We were still directly opposite the city of Richmond, and in full view of it, for the track of the road runs some distance up the river-bank, before it bends away westward. Amid flames and smoke and tumult and disorder, the enemy's hosts were pouring into the streets of the proud old capital. Long lines of cavalry and artillery and infantry could be seen, moving like a huge serpent through the streets, and winding their way to State-House Square. As a crowning insult, a regiment of negro cavalry, wild with savage delight at the thought of triumphing over their late masters, formed a prominent feature in the grand procession. Alongside of the black savage marched the white savage--worthy compeers! nay, scarcely; the black savage, under the circumstances, was the more worthy of respect of the two. The prophecy of Patrick Henry was fulfilled; the very halls, in which he had thundered forth the prophecy, were in possession of the "stranger," against whom he had warned his countrymen! My temporary safety lay in two circumstances: first, the enemy was so drunk with his success, that he had no eyes for any one but himself and the population of the proud city of Richmond which he was seeking to abase; and secondly, the bridges leading across the river were all on fire. Whilst I was pondering what was best to be done, whether I should uncouple a portion of the train, and permit the rest to escape, an engineer came running to me to say that he had discovered another engine, which the absconding railroad people had hidden away in the recesses of their work-shops. The new engine was rolled out immediately, steam raised on it in a few minutes, and by the aid of the two engines, we gave our train, with the indifferent fuel we had, a speed of five or six miles per hour, until we reached the first wood-pile. Here getting hold of some better fuel, we fired up with better effect, and went thundering, with the usual speed, on our course.
It was thus, after I had, in fact, been abandoned by the Government and the army, that I saved my command from capture. I make no charges--utter no complaints. Perhaps neither the Government, nor the army was to blame. The great disaster fell upon them both so suddenly, that, perhaps, neither could do any better; but the naked fact is, that the fleet was abandoned to shift for itself, there being, as before remarked, not only no transportation provided for carrying a pound of provisions, or a cooking-utensil, but not even a horse for its Admiral to mount. As a matter of course, great disorder prevailed, in all the villages, and at all the way-stations, by which we passed. We had a continual accession of passengers, until not another man could be packed upon the train. So great was the demoralization, that we picked up "unattached" generals and colonels on the road, in considerable numbers. The most amusing part of our journey, however, was an attempt made by some of the railroad officials to take charge of our train, after we had gotten some distance from Richmond. Conductors and engineers now came forward, and insisted upon regulating our affairs for us. We declined the good offices of these gentlemen, and navigated to suit ourselves. The president, or superintendent of the road, I forget which, even had the assurance to complain, afterward, to President Davis, at Danville, of my usurping his authority! Simple civilian! discreet railroad officer! to scamper off in the manner related, and then to complain of my usurping his authority! My railroad cruise ended the next day--April 4th--about midnight, when we reached the city of Danville, and blew off our steam, encamping in the cars for the remainder of the night. Our escape had been narrow, in more respects than one. After turning Lee's flank, at the Five Forks, the enemy made a dash at the Southside Railroad; Sheridan with his cavalry tearing up the rails at the Burksville Junction, just one hour and a half after we had passed it.
Chapter LIX
INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT DAVIS AND SECRETARY MALLORY--MY COMMAND ORGANIZED AS A BRIGADE OF ARTILLERY--BRIGADE MARCHES TO GREENSBORO', NORTH CAROLINA--CAPITULATION BETWEEN GENERAL JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON AND SHERMAN--DISPERSION OF JOHNSTON'S TROOPS--AUTHOR RETURNS HOME, AND IS ARRESTED--CONCLUSION.
My memoirs are drawing to a close, for the career of the Confederacy, as well as my own, is nearly ended. I found, at Danville, President Davis, and a portion of his cabinet--the Secretary of the Navy among the rest. Here was temporarily established the seat of Government. I called on the President and Secretary, who were staying at the same house, at an early hour on the morning after my arrival, and reported for duty. They were both calm in the presence of the great disaster which had befallen them and the country. Mr. Mallory could scarcely be said now to have a portfolio, though he still had the officers and clerks of his Department around him. It was at once arranged between him, and the President, that my command should be organized as a brigade of artillery, and assigned to the defences around Danville. The question of my rank being discussed, it was settled by Mr. Davis, that I should act in the capacity of a brigadier-general. My grade being that of a rear-admiral, I was entitled to rank, relatively, with the officers of the army, as a major-general, but it was folly, of course, to talk of rank, in the circumstances in which we were placed, and so I contented myself by saying pleasantly to the President, that I would waive the matter of rank, to be discussed hereafter, if there should ever be occasion to discuss it. "That is the right spirit," said he, with a smile playing over his usually grave features.
I did not see him afterward. He moved soon to Charlotte, in North Carolina, and in a few weeks afterward, he fell into the hands of the enemy. The reader knows the rest of his history; how the enemy gloated over his captivity; how he was reviled, and insulted, by the coarse and brutal men into whose power he had fallen; how lies were invented as to the circumstances of his capture, to please and amuse the Northern multitudes, eager for his blood; and finally, how he was degraded by imprisonment, and the manacles of a felon! His captors and he were of different races--of different blood. They had nothing in common. He was the "Cavalier," endowed by nature with the instincts and refinement of the gentleman. They were of the race of the Roundheads, to whom all such instincts and refinements were offensive. God has created men in different moulds, as he has created the animals. It was as natural that the Yankee should hate Jefferson Davis, as that the cat should arch its back, and roughen its fur, upon the approach of the dog. I have said that the American war had its origin in money, and that it was carried on throughout, "for a consideration." It ended in the same way. The "long-haired barbarian"--see Gibbon's "Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire"--who laid his huge paw upon Jefferson Davis, to make him prisoner, was paid in money for the gallant deed. A President of the United States had degraded his high office, by falsely charging Mr. Davis with being an accomplice in the murder of President Lincoln, and offered a reward for his apprehension; thus gratifying his malignant nature, by holding him up to the world as a common felon. All men now know this charge to be false, the libeller among the rest. Gentlemen retract false charges, when they know them to be such. The charge made by Andrew Johnson against Jefferson Davis has not been retracted.
Upon leaving the presence of the President, and Secretary of the Navy, I sought out my old friend, Captain Sydney Smith Lee, of the Navy, the Assistant Secretary, who had accompanied Mr. Mallory, and arranged with him, and afterward with General Cooper, the Adjutant-General of the Army, the transformation of my sailors into soldiers. There were a great many other naval officers, besides those under my command, fugitives in Danville, and the President and Secretary had been kind enough to authorize me to employ such of them in my new organization, as I might desire. But the difficulty was not in the want of officers; it was the want of men. Already my command of five hundred had dwindled down to about four hundred on my retreat from Richmond, and since my arrival in Danville. I broke these into skeleton regiments so as to conform to the Brigade organization, and appointed Dunnington, late Captain of my flag-ship, the Colonel of one of them, and Johnston, late Captain of the Richmond, Colonel of the other. My youngest son, who had been a midshipman on board the School-ship at Richmond, and who had retreated thence with the School, on the night before the surrender, was ordered by Captain Lee to report to me, and I assigned him to a position on my staff, with the rank of a second lieutenant. Mr. Daniel, my secretary, became my other aide-de-camp, and Captain Butt, late commander of the Nansemond, was appointed Assistant Adjutant-General.
We remained in the trenches before Danville ten days; and anxious, and weary days they were. Raiding parties were careering around us in various directions, robbing and maltreating the inhabitants, but none of the thieves ventured within reach of our guns. Lee abandoned his lines, on the 3d of April, and surrendered his army, or the small remnant that was left of it, to Grant, on the 9th, at Appomattox Court-House. The first news we received of his surrender, came to us from the stream of fugitives which now came pressing into our lines at Danville. It was heart-rending to look upon these men, some on foot, some on horseback, some nearly famished for want of food, and others barely able to totter along from disease. It was, indeed, a rabble rout. Hopes had been entertained that Lee might escape to Lynchburg, or to Danville, and save his army. The President had entertained this hope, and had issued a proclamation of encouragement to the people, before he left Danville. But the fatal tidings came at last, and when they did come, we all felt that the fate of the Confederacy was sealed.
A new impetus was given to desertions, and before I reached Greensboro', North Carolina, to which point I was now removed by the orders of General Joseph E. Johnston, my command had dwindled to about 250 men. Commissioned officers slunk away from me one by one, and became deserters! I was ashamed of my countrymen. Johnston, by reason of his great, personal popularity, and of the confidence which the troops had in his ability, was enabled to gather around him the fragments of several armies, whilst Grant had been pressing Lee; and but for Lee's disaster would soon have been able to hold Sherman in check very effectually. But the moment the news of Lee's surrender reached him, there was a stampede from his army. It melted away like a hillock of snow before the sunshine. Whole companies deserted at a time. Still, many true men remained with him, and with these he stood so defiantly before Sherman, that the latter was glad to enter into negotiations with him for the dispersion of his troops. The reader will be pleased to pay attention to this expression. Johnston dispersed his troops, under the capitulation which will presently be spoken of. He never surrendered them as prisoners to the enemy. The country is familiar with what occurred at Greensboro', between Johnston and Sherman, and I do not propose to rehearse it here. Sherman, yielding to the impulses of Johnston's master-mind, entered into an agreement with the latter, which would have achieved more fame for him in the future than all his victories, if he had had the courage and ability to stand up to his work. This agreement was that the Southern States should be regarded as ipso facto, on the cessation of the war, restored to their rights in the Union. The stroke was one of a statesman. It is in times of great revolutions that genius shows itself. The Federal Government, at the time that this convention was made, was prostrate beneath the foot of the soldier, and a military man of genius might have governed it with the crook of his finger. If such a one had arisen, he might have applied the scourge to the back of the Northern people, and they would have yelped under it as submissively as any hound. They had yelped under the scourging of Abraham Lincoln. But Sherman was not the man to conceive the emergency, or to avail himself of it. He, on the contrary, permitted himself to be scourged by a creature like Stanton, the Federal Secretary of War, and if he did not yelp under the scourging, he at least submitted to it with most admirable docility. Stanton insolently rejected the convention which had been entered into between the two generals, and, reminding Sherman that he was nothing but a soldier, told him to attend to his own business. Stanton knew his man, and Sherman did, afterward, attend to his own business; for he now entered into a purely military convention with Johnston.
The main features of that convention were, that Johnston should disperse his army, and Sherman should, in consideration thereof, guarantee it against molestation by the Federal authorities. It was in the interval between these two conventions, that my camp was astounded one morning, by the report that Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, was dead. He had gone to a small theatre in the city of Washington, on the evening of Good Friday, and had been shot by a madman! It seemed like a just retribution that he should be cut off in the midst of the hosannas that were being shouted in his ears, for all the destruction and ruin he had wrought upon twelve millions of people. Without any warrant for his conduct, he had made a war of rapine and lust against eleven sovereign States, whose only provocation had been that they had made an effort to preserve the liberties which had been handed down to them by their fathers. These States had not sought war, but peace, and they had found, at the hands of Abraham Lincoln, destruction. As a Christian, it was my duty to say, "Lord, have mercy upon his soul!" but the d----l will surely take care of his memory.
The last days of April, and the first days of May, were employed, by General Johnston, in dispersing his army according to agreement. Commissioners, appointed by the two Generals to arrange the dispersion, and provide the dispersed troops with the guaranties that had been agreed upon, met in the village of Greensboro', on the 1st of May, 1865. On the previous evening, I had called at the headquarters of General Johnston, where I had met Beauregard, Wade Hampton, Wheeler, D. H. Hill, and a host of other gallant spirits, who formed the galaxy by which he was surrounded. He was kind enough to give me precedence, in the matter of arranging for my departure with the Federal Commissioner. Accordingly, on the morning of the 1st of May, accompanied by my staff, I rode into Greensboro', and alighted at the Britannia Hotel, where the Commissioners were already assembled. They were Brevet Brigadier General Hartsuff, on the part of the Federals, and Colonel Mason, on the part of the Confederates. Each guaranty of non-molestation had been prepared, beforehand, in a printed form, and signed by Hartsuff, and only required to be filled up with the name and rank of the party entitled to receive it, and signed by myself to be complete. Upon being introduced to General Hartsuff, we proceeded at once to business. I produced the muster-roll of my command, duly signed by my Assistant Adjutant-General; and General Hartsuff and myself ran our eyes over the names together, and when we had ascertained the number, the General counted out an equal number of blank guaranties, and, handing them to me, said: "You have only to fill up one of these for each officer and soldier of your command, with his name and rank, and sign it and hand it to him. I have already signed them myself. You can fill up the one intended for yourself in like manner." "With regard to the latter," I replied, "I prefer, if you have no objection, to have it filled up and completed here in your presence." "Oh! that makes no difference," he replied. "Very well," said I, "if it makes no difference, then you can have no objection to complying with my request." He now called an aide-de-camp, and desiring him to be seated at the table where we were, told him to fill up my guaranty after my dictation. I gave him my titles separately, making him write me down a "Rear-Admiral in the Confederate States Navy, and a Brigadier-General in the Confederate States Army, commanding a brigade." When he had done this, he handed me the paper; I signed it, and put it in my pocket, and, turning to the General, said, "I am now satisfied." The following is a copy of the paper:--
GREENSBORO', NORTH CAROLINA, May 1, 1865.
In accordance with the terms of the Military Convention, entered into on the 26th day of April, 1865, between General Joseph E. Johnston, commanding the Confederate Army, and Major-General W. T. Sherman, commanding the United States Army, in North Carolina, R. Semmes, Rear-Admiral, and Brigadier-General, C. S. Navy, and C. S. Army, commanding brigade, has given his solemn obligation, not to take up arms against the Government of the United States, until properly released from this obligation; and is permitted to return to his home, not to be disturbed by the United States authorities, so long as he observes this obligation, and obeys the laws in force where he may reside.
R. SEMMES, Rear-Admiral C. S. Navy, and Brigadier-General C. S. Army.
WM. HARTSUFF, _Brevet Brigadier-General U. S. Army, Special Commissioner_.
It was well I took the precautions above described, in dealing with the enemy, for, when I was afterward arrested, as the reader will presently see, the Yankee press, howling for my blood, claimed that I had not been paroled at all! that I had deceived the paroling officer, and obtained my parole under false pretences; the said paroling officer not dreaming, when he was paroling one Brigadier-General Semmes, that he had the veritable "pirate" before him. I dispersed my command, on the same afternoon, and with my son, and half a dozen of my officers, a baggage-wagon, and the necessary servants, made my way to Montgomery, in Alabama, and, at that point, took steamer for my home, in Mobile, which I reached in the latter days of May.
Andrew Johnson, the Vice-President of the United States, had succeeded Mr. Lincoln as President. He was a Southern man, born in the State of North Carolina, and a citizen of Tennessee. He had been elected to the Senate of the United States, a short time before the breaking out of the war. He had belonged to the Democratic party, and had arisen from a very low origin--his father having belonged to the common class of laborers, and he having learned the trade of a tailor, which he practised after he had grown to man's estate. Gifted by nature with a strong intellect, he studied the law, and afterward embarked in politics. The word "embark" expresses my idea precisely, for, from this time onward, he became a mere politician. As a rule, it requires an unscrupulous and unprincipled man to succeed in politics in America. Honorable men do, sometimes, of course, make their way to high places; but these form the exceptions, not the rule. Andrew Johnson succeeded in politics. In the earlier stages of our troubles, he spoke and wrote like a Southern man, demanding, in behalf of the South, some security for the future, in the way of additional guaranties. But when these were all denied, and it became evident that his State would secede, and that he would be stripped of his senatorial honors so recently won, if he abided by his former record, and went with his State, he abjured his record, and abandoned his State. Like all renegades, he became zealous in the new faith which he had adopted, and proved himself so good a Radical, that President Lincoln sent him back to Tennessee as a satrap, to govern, with a rod of iron, under military rule, the Sovereign State for which he had so recently demanded additional securities.
Still growing in favor with his new party, he was elected Vice-President, upon the re-election of Mr. Lincoln, in the fall of 1864. The Presidential mantle having fallen upon him, by the tragical death of Mr. Lincoln, he retained the cabinet of his predecessor, and made his zeal still more manifest to his party, by insisting on the necessity of making "treason odious"--the same sort of treason enjoined upon the States by Jefferson in his Kentucky Resolutions of '98 and '99, which formed the basis of the creed of the Democratic party, to which Mr. Johnson had belonged--and punishing "traitors." A grand jury in Norfolk, Va., found an indictment for treason against General Lee, and but for the interposition of General Grant, he would have been tried, under Mr. Johnson's administration; and probably tried by a packed jury that would have hung him. Mr. Davis was already in close and ignominious confinement, as has been related. Captain Wurz, of the late Confederate States Army, who had been, for a short time, in charge of the prison at Andersonville, was tried by a Military Commission, in the city of Washington, under the shadow of the President's chair, convicted, and executed, notwithstanding he was a paroled prisoner of war. Another Military Commission, in time of peace, had convicted and executed a woman--Mrs. Surratt--on the false charge, as is now admitted by the whole country, that she was an accomplice in Mr. Lincoln's assassination. Mr. Johnson signed her death-warrant.
It was under these circumstances, that on the night of the 15th of December, 1865, or seven months and a half after I had received the guaranty of General Sherman, at Greensboro', North Carolina, that I should not be molested by the United States authorities, that a lieutenant of the Marine Corps, with a guard of soldiers, surrounded my house and arrested me, on an order signed by Mr. Gideon Welles, without the process of any court. I was torn from my family, under guard--the thieving soldiery committing some petty thefts about my premises--and hurried off to Washington. Arrived here, I was imprisoned, first, in the Navy Yard, and then in the Marine Barracks. I was kept a close prisoner, with a sentinel at my door, for nearly four months; the gentlemen about the barracks, however, doing everything in their power to render my confinement more endurable. It was the intention of the Government to throw me, as it had thrown Wurz, as a sop to the extreme Radicals of the New England States, whose commerce I had destroyed; and I was only saved by the circumstances which will be presently related. But before I relate these circumstances, I deem it pertinent to give to the reader the following letter addressed by me to President Johnson, from my place of confinement, charging his Government with a breach of faith in arresting me.
TO HIS EXCELLENCY ANDREW JOHNSON, President of the United States.
SIR:--Being satisfied that you are anxious to arrive at a correct decision in my case,--one that shall accord, at the same time, with the honor and dignity of the United States, and with justice to myself,--I venture to address you the following brief exposition of the law and the facts of the case.
On the 26th day of April, 1865, the following military convention was entered into at Greensboro', N. C., between General Joseph E. Johnston, commanding the Confederate States Armies in North Carolina, and Major-General W. T. Sherman, commanding the United States Army in the same State, viz:--
"1. All acts of war on the part of the troops under General Johnston's command to cease from this date.
"2. All arms and public property to be deposited at Greensboro', and delivered to an ordnance officer of the United States Army.
"3. Rolls of all the officers and men to be made in duplicate, one copy to be retained by the commander of the troops, and the other to be given to an officer to be designated by General Sherman. Each officer and man to give his individual obligation, in writing, not to take up arms against the Government of the United States until properly released from this obligation.
"4. The side-arms of officers, and their private horses and baggage, to be retained by them.
"5. This being done, all the officers and men will be permitted to return to their homes, not to be disturbed by the United States authorities so long as they observe their obligation and the laws in force where they may reside.
[Signed] "W. T. SHERMAN, Major-General, "Commanding U. S. Forces in North Carolina.
[Signed] "JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON, General, "Commanding C. S. Forces in North Carolina."
Here, Mr. President, was a solemn military convention, entered into by two generals, who had opposing armies in the field, in which convention the one and the other general stipulated for certain terms,--General Johnston agreeing to lay down his arms and disband his forces, and General Sherman agreeing, in consideration thereof, that the forces thus disbanded shall proceed to their homes, and there remain undisturbed by the United States authorities. I beg you to observe the use of the word "undisturbed," one of the most comprehensive words in our language. I pray you also to remark the formalities with which this convention was drawn. We were treated as officers commanding armies, representing, of course, if not a de jure, at least a de facto government. Our proper military titles were acknowledged. I was myself styled and treated in the muster-rolls, and other papers drawn up by both parties, a brigadier-general and a rear-admiral. The honors of war usual upon surrenders, upon terms, were accorded to us, in our being permitted to retain our side-arms, private horses, and baggage. In short, the future historian, upon reading this convention, will be unable to distinguish it in any particular from other similar papers, agreed upon by armies of recognized governments. At the date of, and some weeks prior to the ratification of this convention, I commanded a brigade of artillery, forming a part of the army of General Johnston. I was, of course, included in the terms of the convention. I complied with those terms, under orders received from General Johnston, by turning over my arms to the proper officer, and disbanding my forces. The convention was approved by the Government of the United States. Your Excellency may recollect that the first convention entered into between General Johnston and General Sherman, which provided, among other things, for the return of the Southern States to their functions under the Constitution of the United States, was disapproved by the Government, on the ground that General Sherman, in undertaking to treat of political matters, had transcended his authority. The armistice which had been declared between the two armies was dissolved, and hostilities were renewed. A few days afterward, however, new negotiations were commenced, and the convention with which we have to do was the second convention entered into by those Generals, and which was a substantial readoption of the military portion of the first convention. It was this latter convention which was formally approved, both by General Grant, the Commander-in-Chief, under whose orders General Sherman acted, and by the Executive at Washington.
Confiding in the good faith of the Government, pledged in a solemn treaty as above stated, I returned to my home in Alabama, and remained there for the space of seven months, engaging in civil pursuits as a means of livelihood for my dependent family, and yielding a ready obedience to the laws. I had, in fact, become an officer of the law, having established myself as an attorney. It would have been easy for me, at any time within these seven months, to pass out of the country, if I had had any doubt about the binding obligation of the Greensboro' convention, or of the good faith of the Government. But I had no doubt on either point, nor have I any doubt yet, as I feel quite sure that when you shall have informed yourself of all the facts of the case, you will come to the conclusion that my arrest was entirely without warrant, and order my discharge. While thus remaining quietly at my home, in the belief that I was "not to be disturbed by the United States authorities," I was, on the 15th of December, 1865, in the night-time, arrested by a lieutenant and two sergeants of the Marine Corps, under an order signed by the Secretary of the Navy, and placed under guard; a file of soldiers in the meantime surrounding my house. I was informed by the officer making the arrest that I was to proceed to Washington in his custody, there to answer to a charge, a copy of which he handed me. This charge, and the protest which I filed the next day with the Commanding General of the Department of Alabama, against my arrest, your Excellency has already seen. The question for you then to decide, Mr. President, is the legality of this arrest. Can I, in violation of the terms of the military convention already referred to, and under which I laid down my arms, be held to answer for any act of war committed anterior to the date of that convention? I respectfully submit that I cannot be so held, either during the continuance of the war, (and the political power has not yet proclaimed the war ended,) or after the war shall have been brought to a close by proclamation, and the restoration of the writ of habeas corpus, without a flagrant violation of faith on the part of the United States. If it be admitted that I might be tried for any act dehors the war, and having no connection with it--as, for instance, for a forgery--it is quite clear that I cannot be arrested or arraigned for any act manifestly of war, and acknowledged as such, (as the act, for instance, for which I was arrested,) whether such act be in consonance with the laws of war or in violation thereof; and this for the simple reason that the military convention was a condonation and an oblivion of all precedent acts of war, of what nature soever those acts might be. I am "not to be disturbed," says the military convention. Disturbed for what? Why, manifestly, for any act of war theretofore committed against the United States. This is the only commonsense view of the case; and if the convention did not mean this, it could mean nothing; and I laid down my arms, not upon terms, as I had supposed, but without terms. If I was still at the mercy of the conqueror, and my arrest asserts as much, I was in the condition of one who had surrendered unconditionally; but it has been seen that I did not surrender unconditionally, but upon terms--terms engrafted upon a treaty ratified and approved by the conqueror's Government. Nor is it consistent with good faith to qualify or restrain those terms, so as to make them inapplicable to acts of war that may be claimed to have been in violation of the laws of war; for this would be to refine away all the protection which has been thrown around me by treaty, and put me in the power of the opposite contracting party, who might put his own construction upon the laws of war. This very attempt, Mr. President, has been made in the case before you. I claim to have escaped, after my ship had sunk from under me in the engagement off Cherbourg, and I had been precipitated into the water, the enemy not having taken possession of me, according to the laws and usages of war, as your Excellency may read in almost every page of naval history; the Secretary of the Navy claiming the contrary. The true, and the only just and fair criterion, is, was the act for which the arrest was made an act of war? If so, there is an end of the question, and I must be discharged, for, as before remarked, the convention, if it is anything, is an oblivion of all acts of war of whatever nature.
But it may be said that, although I cannot be tried by a military tribunal during the war, I may yet be tried by a civil tribunal after the war. Let us look at this question also. I was, undoubtedly, amenable to the civil tribunals of the country, as well after as before the convention, for any offence of a purely civil nature, not founded upon an act of war--to instance, as before, the crime of forgery. If I had committed a forgery in North Carolina, I could not, upon arraignment, plead the military convention in bar of trial. Why not? Because that convention had reference only to acts of war. I was treated with, in my capacity of a soldier and a seaman. But, does it follow that I may be tried for treason? And if not, why not? The Attorney-General tells you that treason is a civil offence, and in his opinion triable exclusively by the civil courts, and he hopes you will give him plenty of occupation in trying "many whom the sword has spared." (See his letter to you of the 4th of January, 1866.) But does not that officer forget that treason is made up of acts of war; and is it not apparent that you cannot try me for an act of war? The Constitution of the United States, which the Attorney-General says he loves even better than blood, declares, in words, that treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort--all of which adherence, giving of aid and comfort, &c., are equally acts of war. There is no constructive treason in this country. Thus I can neither be tried by a military tribunal during the war, nor a civil tribunal after the war, for any act of war, or for treason which consists only of acts of war.
But it may further be said that this convention, of which I am claiming the protection, is not a continuing convention, and will expire with the war, when, as Mr. Speed thinks, you may hand me over to the civil tribunals. Whence can such a conclusion be drawn? Not from the terms of the convention, for these contradict the conclusion; not by implication merely, but in totidem verbis. The terms are, "not to be disturbed, so long as they shall observe their obligation and the laws in force where they may reside." A misuse of terms, Mr. President, sometimes misleads very clever minds. And I presume it is by a misuse of terms that the Attorney-General has fallen into this error. (See his letter to your Excellency, before referred to.) That officer, while he admits that PAROLE protects the party paroled from trial during the war, yet contends that it does not protect him from trial by a civil tribunal, for treason, after the war. As I have shown that treason can only consist of acts of war, and that the military convention is an oblivion of all acts of war, the Attorney-General, when he says that a paroled party may be tried for treason at the end of the war, (the parole being no longer a protection to him,) must mean that the parole will have died with the war. This is entirely true of a mere parole, for a parole is only a promise, on the part of a prisoner of war, that if released from imprisonment, he will not take up arms again unless he is exchanged. This parole is as frequently given by prisoners of war, who have surrendered unconditionally, as by those who have surrendered upon terms. There cannot be any parole, then, without a prisoner of war, and the status of prisoner of war ceasing, the parole ceases--cessante ratione cessat et ipso lex. Thus far the Attorney-General is quite logical, but by confounding in his mind the certificates given to the officers and men of General Johnston's army, stating the terms of the Greensboro' convention, and guaranteeing those officers and men against molestation, in accordance with those terms, with PAROLES, it is easy to see how the mistake I am exposing can have been made. But the convention made between General Johnston and General Sherman was not a mere release of prisoners on parole; nor, indeed, had it anything to do with prisoners, for none of the officers and men of General Johnston's army ever were prisoners, as may be seen at a glance by an inspection of the terms of the convention. It was a treaty between commanding generals in the field, in which the word parole is not once used, or could be used with propriety; a treaty in which mutual stipulations are made, one in consideration of another, and there is no limit as to time set to this treaty.
On the contrary, it was expressly stated that the guaranties contained in it were to continue and be in force, so long as the parties to whom the guaranties were given, should perform their part of the treaty stipulations. It was made, not in contemplation of a continuation of the war, but with a view to put an end to the war, and the guaranties were demanded by us as peace guaranties. It did, in effect, put an end to the war and pacify the whole country; General Taylor in Alabama and Mississippi, and General Buckner and others in Texas, following the lead of General Johnston. Are we to be told now by an Attorney-General of the United States, that the moment the object of the convention, to wit, the restoration of peace, was accomplished, the convention itself became a nullity, its terms powerless to protect us, and that General Johnston's army surrendered, in fact, without any terms whatever? You cannot sustain such an opinion, Mr. President. It will shock the common sense and love of fair play of the American people. But to show still further that it was the intention of the parties that this should be a continuing convention, the words used were, "not to be disturbed by the United States Authorities," these words being co-extensive with the whole power of the Government. We were not only "not to be disturbed" by General Sherman, or any other military commander or authority, but by any authority whatever, civil or military. Nor will it do to say that General Sherman, being merely a military man, had no authority to speak for the civil branch of the Government, for his action, as we have seen, was approved by the Administration at Washington.
One more remark, Mr. President, and I will forbear to trespass further on your time and patience. The act of war for which I was arrested, was well known to the Department of the Government making the arrest, ten months before the convention was entered into at Greensboro'. It was also well known to the same Department, that about the middle of February, 1865, I was assigned to the command of the James River Squadron, near Richmond, with the rank of a rear-admiral; being thus promoted and employed by my Government, after the alleged illegal escape off Cherbourg. If the Federal Government then entertained the design, which it has since developed, of arresting and trying me for this alleged breach of the laws of war, was it not its duty, both to itself and to me, to have made me an exception to any military terms it might have been disposed to grant to our armies? I put it to you, Mr. President, as a man and a magistrate to say, and I will rest my case on your answer, whether it was consistent with honor and fair dealing, for this Government first to entrap me, by means of a military convention, and then, having me in its power, to arrest me and declare that convention null and void, for the course recommended to you by Mr. Speed comes to this--nothing more, nothing less.
I have thus laid before you, tediously I fear, and yet as concisely as was consistent with clearness, the grounds upon which I claim at your hands, who are the guardian of the honor of a great nation, my discharge from arrest and imprisonment. I have spoken freely and frankly, as it became an American citizen to speak to the Chief Magistrate of the American Republic. We live in times of high party excitement, when men, unfortunately, are but too prone to take counsel of their passions; but passions die, and men die with them, and after death comes history. In the future, Mr. President, when America shall have a history, my record and that of the gallant Southern people will be engrafted upon, and become a part of your history, the pages of which you are now acting; and the prayer of this petition is, that you will not permit the honor of the American name to be tarnished by a perfidy on those pages. In this paper I have stood strictly upon legal defences; but should those barriers be beaten down, conscious of the rectitude of my conduct, throughout a checkered and eventful career, when the commerce of half a world was at my mercy, and when the passions of men, North and South, were tossed into a whirlwind, by the current events of the most bloody and terrific war that the human race had ever seen, I shall hope to justify and defend myself against any and all charges affecting the honor and reputation of a man and a soldier. Whatever else may be said of me, I have, at least, brought no discredit upon the American name and character.
I am, very respectfully, &c., RAPHAEL SEMMES.
WASHINGTON CITY, January 15, 1866.
At the time of my arrest, there was a newspaper called the "Republican," published in the city of Washington, in the interests of President Johnson. There had been some little struggle between Congress and the President, as to who should take the initiative in the wholesale hanging of "traitors" which had been resolved upon. The "Republican," speaking for President Johnson, declares, in the article which will be found below, his readiness to act. He is only waiting, it says, for Congress to move in the matter. Here is the article:--
"WHY DON'T CONGRESS ACT?
"As long ago as last October, the President of the United States commenced an earnest effort to initiate the trials of prominent traitors, beginning with the arch-traitor Jefferson Davis. It is now a historical record, and officially in the possession of the Congress of the United States, that, upon application to the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court to know at what time, if any, the United States Court for the District of Virginia would be ready to try certain high crimes against the National Government, the President received an answer from Chief-Justice Chase, that the Court would not sit in that district, while that territory was under military control, and suggested the propriety of delaying action in the matter, until Congress acted. Congress assembled. The President referred the whole subject, respectfully, to the consideration of Congress in his annual message, and subsequently, in answer to a resolution of inquiry, he sent, by special message, the correspondence alluded to above, between himself and Chief-Justice Chase.
"All the facts were thus legitimately laid before the legislative branch of the Government three and a half months ago! The President, some time in November last, stopped the work of pardoning, except in a few cases where the applications were accompanied by the most positive evidence of good intentions toward the Government. From among those who have applied for pardon, the President has reserved for trial about five hundred of the military and political leaders of the rebel Government--a sufficient number to begin with at least. This number, as classified by the President, we published, by permission, some time since.
"Now, in view of the above statement of facts, what has Congress done? Has Congress passed any law directing how the rebels shall be tried? No. Has Congress passed any resolution requesting the President to order a military court for the trial of Davis & Co.? No. Has Congress agitated the subject at any time, in any manner, looking to a trial of the cases referred to? No.
"But what have Congressmen done in their individual capacity? Many of them, from day to day, have spoken sneeringly of the President, because he has not done what he began to do, but which the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court prevented, by refusing to hold the court, and which the Congress of the United States has wholly neglected, or purposely ignored. The people, through the press of the country, and in private communication, are beginning to inquire why Congress don't act. Governors of States, ignorant of the facts, are haranguing the people about the indisposition or neglect of the President to try traitors. Why don't Congress act? The President is ready, and has been ready from the beginning, to co-operate with Congress in any constitutional measure by which traitors can be tried, to the end, that treason may thereby be made odious. We repeat the question with which we commenced, and which is echoed by the people everywhere, 'Why don't Congress act?'"
There is an old adage which says, "When rogues fall out, honest men get their rights." Fortunately for the "traitors" of the South, Andrew Johnson, and the Congress quarrelled. Johnson undertook to reconstruct the Southern States, in his interests, and Congress claimed the right to reconstruct them in its interests. The Constitution of the United States was equally disregarded by them both. Johnson had no more respect for it than Congress. His mode of reconstruction equally violated it, with that of Congress. It was a struggle between usurpers, which should be master--that was all. Johnson, with a single stroke of the pen, struck down all the State governments, called conventions of the people, and told the conventions what they should do. Congress might go a little further, but its violation of the Constitution could not, well, be more flagrant. The breach widened from day to day, and the quarrel at last became bitter. Neither party, opposed by the other, could afford to become the hangman of the Southern people, and the very pretty little programme, which, according to the "Republican" newspaper, had been arranged between the rogues, naturally fell to the ground.
Johnson finding that his quarrel with Congress had ruined him with his party, now set about constructing a new one--a Johnson party. His scheme was to ignore both the Democratic, and the Republican parties. If he could succeed in reconstructing the Southern States, to the exclusion of Congress, he might hope to get the votes of those States in the next Presidential election. But to conciliate these States, it would not do to hang "five hundred of the military and political leaders of the rebel Government," as a mere "beginning." He must pursue a different policy. He now issued first one amnesty proclamation, and then another--doling out amnesty, grudgingly, in broken doses--until he had issued three of them. By the last of these proclamations, the writer of these pages, who was true to his State, was "graciously pardoned" by Andrew Johnson, who had not only been a traitor to his State, but had betrayed, besides, two political parties. A glorious opportunity presented itself for him to show himself a statesman. He has proved a charlatan instead. He cowered in his struggle with Congress, and that body has shorn him of his prerogatives, and reduced him to the mere position of a clerk. This is the second act of the drama, the first act of which was the secession of the Southern States. The form of government having been changed by the revolution, there are still other acts of the drama to be performed.
THE END.
Footnotes:
[1] The Cuba was hourly expected to arrive, but, as the reader has seen, was recaptured, and did not make her appearance.
[2] "Now let us make a calculation of the annual saving to the commerce of the United States, effected by these charts, and sailing directions. According to Mr. Maury, the average freight from the United States to Rio Janeiro, is 17.7 cents per ton, per day; to Australia, 20 cents; to California, 20 cents. The mean of this is a little over 19 cents per ton, per day; but to be within the mark, we will take it at 15 cents, and include all the ports of South America, China, and the East Indies. The 'Sailing Directions' have shortened the passage to California, thirty days; to Australia, twenty days; and to Rio Janeiro, ten days. The mean of this is twenty, but we will take it at fifteen, and also include the above-named ports of South America, China, and the East Indies. We estimate the tonnage of the United States, engaged in trade with these places, at 1,000,000 tons per annum. With these data, we see that there has been effected, a saving for each one of those tons, of 15 cents per day, for a period of fifteen days, which will give an aggregate of $2,250,000 saved per annum. This is on the outward voyage alone, and the tonnage trading with all other parts of the world is also left out of the calculation. Take these into consideration, and also the fact that there is a vast amount of foreign tonnage, trading between those places and the United States, and it will be seen that the annual sum saved will swell to an enormous amount."--Hunt's Merchants' Magazine, May, 1854.
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Transcriber's note:
Some quotes are opened with marks but are not closed. Obvious errors have been silently closed while those requiring interpretation have been left open.
Punctuation has been corrected without note.
The following misprints have been corrected: "the the" corrected to "the" (page 18) "Goverment" corrected to "Government" (page 51) "emniently" corrected to "eminently" (page 87) "requsite" corrected to "requisite" (page 98) "lieutentant" corrected to "lieutenant" (page 142) "Marauham" corrected to "Maranham" (page 207) "longtitude" corrected to "longitude" (page 229) "ludicruously" corrected to "ludicrously" (page 451) "wlth" corrected to "with" (page 484) "the of" corrected to "of the" (page 552) "Christain" corrected to "Christian" (page 566) "cannot-shot" corrected to "cannon-shot" (page 656) "minature" corrected to "miniature" (page 695) "no" corrected to "on" (page 721) "bockade-runners" corrected to "blockade-runners" (page 737) "Balwin" corrected to "Baldwin" (page 739) "Kearsage" corrected to "Kearsarge" (Illustration between pages 764 and 765)
Other than the corrections listed above, inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been retained from the original.