Until Every Drop of Blood Is Paid: A More Radical American Civil War

[Red_Galiray]

Chapter 19: And roll on the Liberty Ball!​

If Conservative Republicans put he Union over Emancipation, then Radicals put Liberty over Union. For them, the Union was a means to an end: The United States were meant to be the harbinger of liberty, not the protector of slavery. At times, this had resulted, weirdly enough, in pro-secession rhetoric, and some radicals had even supported state nullification of pro-slavery Federal laws. For example, they repeated Sumner's sentiment that if the Union’s existence depended on the so reviled Fugitive Slave Act, then it “should not exist”, and published articles claiming that Northern secession would create a stronger and more prosperous country, free from the Slave Power at last. However, now that war had come, Radicals took the mantle of fierce Unionism and Nationalism, insisting on granting broad powers to the Federal government. True to form, these Radicals wanted these powers to be used not to push forward any kind of Whiggish platform, but to enact emancipation. For example, one radical asserted that "We have entered upon a struggle which ought not to be allowed to end until the Slave Power is completely subjugated, and emancipation made certain."

President Lincoln was, unfortunately for the radicals, a moderate who was unwilling to start a remorseless struggle. Thaddeus Stevens, the grim House radical who, per his own admission, was more progressive than his constituents, called for a radical war that would end not only the Slave Power but the South itself: "Free every slave—slay every traitor—burn every rebel mansion, if these things be necessary to preserve this temple of freedom." He concluded that the government should treat “this war as a radical revolution.”

But Lincoln wasn’t willing to go this far. Though Lincoln was criticized for his leniency towards the South during the war, before it some people thought he was too radical. His “House Divided” speech was similar to Seward’s “Irrepressible Conflict”, in that both advanced the idea that two different societies existed within the Union, and that one of them would eventually have to triumph and become the Union itself. Political observers often thought that Lincoln was closer to the radical wing that the conservative one, and event during the 1850’s and the war would indeed make the moderate faction he led come closer to the radicals. Conservatives like William T. Sherman distrusted him while radicals like Joshua R. Giddings supported him due to this perceived radicalism. A Chicago newspaper even when as far as saying that Lincoln was “intensely radical in fundamental principles.” It’s very telling that the Republican National Convention believed it necessary to pair him with the steady conservative John McLean.

The views of the Prairie Lawyer himself had started to change after his election to the Senate in 1854. He had run for Senate as a Whig, refusing to ally himself with the Republicans until 1856 – but in that year he quickly assumed a central position as a party leader, sparring with Douglas and ultimately allowing Frémont to carry the state. He often stressed that morality was at the center of the Party’s and his personal animosity towards slavery. And he had established close friendships with radicals like Owen Lovejoy (who was elected to the Senate in 1858 thanks to Lincoln) and the famous Frederick Douglass. In fact, Lincoln had invited Douglass to his debates with the Little Giant in 1858, and tried to invite him to his inauguration. Lovejoy and Douglass also convinced him to drop the idea of following emancipation with colonization. Lincoln had been a fervent supporter of the measure, but he turned against it following a reunion with many Black leaders who declared that the US was their home, and they wouldn’t leave it.

Likewise, he had started to talk of Black citizenship and the future of Black Americans after emancipation. If they were to stay within the United States, then an effort would have to be made to integrate them into American society. For the moment, he dodged the most explosive questions regarding social equality, but Lincoln had always insisted on legal equality. This was more than what most moderates were willing to go, for they often ignored these questions altogether. Lincoln, for his part, met them head on. Lincoln’s “radicalization” can also be seen in how he dealt with his cabinet. He appointed Seward, but was miffed by his attempts to take over and become the “premier”, and ignored his advice regarding his inaugural address, instead issuing his first and far more severe draft as part of his effort to not give an inch to the rebels. Likewise, he refused to appoint the very conservative Edward Bates, and only chose Montgomery Blair after he had come out as one of the strongest supporters of no compromise in the face of Southern coercion. All this points to growing Radical strength and waning Conservative influence.

Owen Lovejoy became a fervent abolitionist after his brother Elijah was murdered for publishing an anti-slavery newspaper​

But despite this, Lincoln wanted the war to be one for Union. Emancipation could come later, through constitutional means. Some people, including John Quincy Adams, insisted that as President Lincoln had the power to start emancipation in case of a civil conflict. But Lincoln didn’t want to do so, not yet at least. His careful strategy around the Border States required him to not use those war powers, whether they were Constitutional or not. But many events forced Lincoln to face the slavery question.

Maryland was the focal point of the controversy. Some slaves had already escaped to Federal forts in Florida, but they had been returned to their owners. For the moment, the administration intended to continue enforcing the Fugitive Slave Act, to assure the loyalty of the locals. A Unionist Maryland newspaper complained that Lincoln’s administration had returned more slaves than Buchanan had during his entire presidential term. Even if Lincoln had wanted to ignore the issue for the moment, the slavery question “was forced upon the administration by the negroes in the Maryland army camps.” Just as Orville Browning had predicted, “wherever our armies march into the Southern states, “the negroes will, of course, flock to our standards—They will rise in rebellion, and strike a blow for emancipation from servitude, and to avenge the wrongs of ages. This is inevitable.” Indeed, thousands of Maryland slaves escaped their plantation and sought refuge with the Army of the Susquehanna. Annapolis, under the command of Benjamin Butler, was a point of concentration, being close to the Chesapeake tobacco plantations.

Butler would become the unlikely hero of thousands of slaves, and perhaps millions more, when he first refused to return slaves by calling them “contrabands.” It happened this way: In July 15th, 1861, five fugitive slaves, who had been working building fortifications for the forces of Stonewall Jackson, escaped to Butler’s own defenses. Deciding that handing them back would augment the enemy’s strength, and that he himself needed more manpower, Butler put them to work. When a Confederate officer approached under flag of truce and asked for the slaves to be returned, Butler refused, saying that if Maryland was a foreign nation the Fugitive Slave Act didn’t apply. If the officer wanted his slaves, he would have to swear loyalty to the United States, something he refused. Butler justified his actions by calling the slaves “contraband of war”, a term used in international law but only for war-making goods seized from the enemy. The reasoning was that slaves would be used to make armaments, grow food-crops or build fortification, so taking them in and making them support the Union’s war-effort rather than the Confederate one was the rational choice.

The term “contraband” quickly spread as a way to refer to the fugitive slaves. The administration could not remain silent for long – it was clear that some kind of policy regarding the contrabands would be needed. Butler himself wrote to Lincoln, asking whether he could continue to receive fugitive slaves due to humanitarian or political reasons. “Of the humanitarian aspect I have no doubt. Of the political one, I have no right to judge,” the general wrote. Lincoln jokingly called the contraband policy “Butler’s Fugitive Slave Law”, but he realized that making emancipation a war goal would shake Kentucky’s and Missouri’s Unionist governments. Consequently, he refrained from settling upon a broad policy, instead merely “approving” Butler’s policy. Lincoln also made no reference to Butler taking in Black women, children and elders, despite the fact that the doctrine of them being war-resources was weaker there. For the time being, the administration intended to bypass the slavery question and allow each commander to decide what to do. But like the editors of the Harper’s Ferry commented, “The disposition of runaway slaves cannot be left to individual military commanders—the government must adopt a uniform policy.”

Orville Browning​

Congress as a body complicated matters, since the lawmakers, many of whom thought themselves superior to Lincoln, aspired to take command of the war. Lincoln would later become convinced that as President he had the sole authority to deal with the slavery question, especially if emancipation was to be conducted under the contraband policy. This didn’t stop Congress, of course. The most dogged lawmakers were the Radicals, many of whom insisted that the Southern rebels had forfeited their constitutional rights – a position that directly contradicted Lincoln’s assertion that this was a rebellion of individuals and that the states themselves still remained in the Union, their rights intact. Though Lincoln wished to maintain a close and working relationship with Congress and put Party unity above factional disputes, the Radicals were committed to abolition above anything. Many times they had threatened to bolt the Party should it become too conservative. And the war had only stiffened their decision.

The clearest mark of this was the Radical crusade against the Johnson Resolutions. Presented by Senator Andrew Johnson of Tennessee, the only Senator from a Slave State who had remained loyal to the Union, the resolution explicitly stated that the war was not for liberty, just for Union, declaring that the government would have no intention "of overthrowing or interfering with the rights or established institutions of [the seceded] States" but only "to defend and maintain the supremacy of the Constitution and to preserve the Union with all the dignity, equality, and rights of the several States unimpaired.” Radicals opposed the resolutions. Charles Sumner, for example, said that the Slavocracy had not respected the rights of Kansas, forcing slavery upon her. If the government could use its powers to uphold slavery, it naturally could also use them “in the noble fight against the corrupting harlot.” At the end, moderate and conservative Republicans were able to overcome the opposition of their radical colleagues, but only barely.

Owen Lovejoy gave Lincoln another headache when he introduced a resolution in the Senate in the wake of the contraband controversy. The resolution stated that it was “no part of the duty of the soldiers of the United States to capture and return fugitive slaves” and calling for repeal of the Fugitive Slave Act. It was expected to pass in the Senate, where Republican strength was the greatest. Thanks to the resignation or expulsion of most Southern Senators, only 4 Democrats remained – Johnson, the 2 Maryland Senators and 1 Kentucky Senator. One Senator from California, and the Senators of Missouri and Kansas would soon be expulsed, while the National Union only had two Senators. Republicans had a 33 to 11 majority (soon to become 36 to 8). The Resolution quickly passed, but it found greater trouble in the House where the National Union and Border State congressmen could put up stiffer resistance. However, Republicans still had an overwhelming majority of 134 of 181 House seats.

The resolution passed, in part thanks to the morale boost of the victory at Baltimore. Fortunately for Lincoln, Polk had already invaded Kentucky and turned most of the state towards fierce Unionism, while Lyon had stabilized the situation in Missouri. But it still constituted a direct contradiction of the Johnson Resolutions, and showed Republican dissatisfaction towards Lincoln’s contraband policy. It also showed that even if moderates were not willing to make emancipation a war goal, they were prepared to “let slavery perish” as another casualty of the war if necessary, as the otherwise moderate Senator Dixon said. More worryingly, Senator Garret of Kentucky said that despite being a “pro-slavery man” he was willing to give up slavery for the Union even if that meant that “another fibre of cotton should never grow in our country.”

Andrew Johnson​

Decided to settle the contraband controversy and emboldened by success in Baltimore and at Congress, anti-slavery Republicans put a Confiscation act up for a vote in August, in the twilight days of the Congressional session. If confiscated property, including slaves, but only if they had even used to support the Confederate war effort. However, it was radical in one aspect – it proclaimed that slaves thus confiscated would be forever free. This was too much for moderates, who decided to instead leave the condition of the slaves ambiguous for the time being. The Harpers’ Weekly observed that the question of “the future relations of the government with slavery,” would be adjourned until December by “general consent.” But the Pathfinder of the West prevented Lincoln from settling aside the issue as well.

Frémont’s notable proclamation had declared all slaves free, which went much further than the Confiscation Act. Lincoln quickly revoked the edict, which proved controversial and even unpopular with most Republicans. "Permit me to say damn the border states. . . . A thousand Lincolns cannot stop the people from fighting slavery”, asserted a Connecticut Republican. Lincoln judged it necessary, however, for Frémont’s high-handed behavior had crippled the efforts of the Missouri Unionist government. John Howe even wrote to Postmaster Blair asking him to “save us, and remove Frémont.” Though Lincoln said that he wasn’t opposed in principle to emancipation or military measures to deal with the guerrillas, he definitely couldn’t support total military rule, writing to Browning that the government would cease to be one “of Constitution and laws” if “a General, or a President, may make permanent rules of property by proclamation?” Frémont could take in contrabands, but he was exceeding his functions by settling their future condition. Only Congress could do so by statute.

Lincoln asked Frémont to “modify” his proclamation. A more tactful general would have understood that Lincoln was trying to save him the embarrassment of having the order revoked directly, and would have acquiesced. But Frémont was anything but tactful or prudent. He arrogantly refused to modify the order, even sending his spirited wife Jessie Benton Frémont to speak with the President – an action that only offended Lincoln. Out of choices, Lincoln publicly ordered Frémont to revoke the order, and after his defeat by Sterling Pryce, Lincoln removed Frémont from command and appointed Lyon in his place instead.

But the political damage was done. Many letters reached Lincoln’s desk, all offering sharp criticism of his actions. “You can heardly imagine the thrill of pain that you have sent through many Christian hearts, by revoking that ritcheous proclamation of Gen. John C. Fremont. . . . The rebellion can never be put down till slavery is uprooted,” wrote a Michigander, while the blunt J. C. Woods limited himself to saying “either Fremonts proclamation or the South will win. Take your choice.” Ultimately, Lincoln’s preoccupation with Kentucky and Missouri made him stick to his course. Nonetheless, a rift was starting to grow between him and the radicals. Another point of contention soon arose, when Secretary of War Simon Cameron endorsed the enlistment of black soldiers.

Cameron’s position was endangered due to his incompetency and the corruption within his Department. Though a conservative, he sought to ally himself with the Radicals so as to protect himself. For that reason, his annual report included a suggestion that contrabands could be armed and serve as soldiers, a position that he knew would be incendiary. Many friends and colleagues advised him to not put that in the report – Blair even said that Cameron was running the “nigger hobby” for political gain. Yet at the end he did publish it, even sending some copies to newspapers before sending one to the President. He used the allegory Edwin M. Stanton had given him: that the government had the right to use seized slaves as soldiers as much as it had the right to use seized gunpowder. Whether Stanton endorsed the proposal because he genuinely believed in abolition (a plausible explanation, taking into account his friendship with radicals like Chase or Sumner) or because he hoped to be chosen after Cameron was fired, it’s not known yet. But if his objective was the latter, he succeeded.

Edwin M. Stanton​

An outraged Lincoln quickly ordered the suggestion deleted, exclaiming that “Gen. Cameron must take no such responsibility. That is a question which belongs exclusively to me!” Unhappily for the commander in chief, the debate had entered the public stage. “Let the sword make a nation of four millions of black men free, and then give them a sword of their own, so that their liberty will be protected”, said an abolition, while Frederick Douglass argued that “One black regiment alone would be, in such a war, the full equal of two white ones. The very fact of color in this case would be more terrible than powder and balls.” The astounding events that took place in Baltimore gave more fire to the debate, because Black civilians had formed militias and helped the Federals in taking the city. “Without the manly and brave sacrifice of the Baltimore negroes,” the Hoosier radical George Julian said, “the port city would have never been taken by our arms.” A Vermont radical also made the point that “the Baltimore negro population suffered terribly and fought bravely for the liberty of the city, and yet the administration refuses to give them the tools to continue that fight. A greater insult has never been dealt before.”

Another complication was Kansas. The Lecompton government had been driven off, and the triumphal Topeka Legislature quickly proclaimed its constitution, one which declared that slavery could not exist in Kansas. Yet, slavery did exist in Kansas as a matter of fact, for the years under the control of Lecompton had seen many slaveholders move into eastern Kansas, which had similar soil and climate to the slaveholding center of the Missouri river basin. Yet the continuing conflict and greater support by Republican lawmaker and New Englander immigration societies meant that the number of slaves remained low – only 10,000, a mere 6-7% of the 170,000 persons in Kansas, half the Missourian ratio. Those slaves now had to be liberated. As a legislator said, “the loathsome institution existed in this land as a contravention of the natural law – something that now must be corrected.” For that reason, the Topeka Legislature asked General David Hunter to carry out military emancipation of all slaves in the territory.

Hunter, the defiant abolitionist from Illinois who rose to prominence thanks to political connections and an admirable service at Baltimore, was a proponent of both abolition and black military service, and he found ready allies in Topeka. He quickly used the army to liberate slaves, and organize them into the First Kansas Colored Infantry. The Black soldiers pursued the rebels that remained in Kansas, and it was with their help that Hunter managed to drove them off the state and into the Indian Territory, whose tribes had aligned themselves with the Confederates. The success was applauded by the anti-slavery press, and even moderate Republicans had to recognize the admirable performance of the men, but the administration for the moment refused to recognize the existence of these regiments. Lincoln was dismayed when he heard that Congress planned to address the slavery question, including black service, in the next session in December.

David Hunter​

For the moment, the Lincoln administration wanted to ignore the wider questions regarding slavery, for the President did not feel ready to start a war with the expressed objective of achieving emancipation. Lincoln wanted to uphold the constitution as he saw it, and achieve the ultimately extinction of the monstrous injustice through legal means, but as the war took a more radical turn and events started to push in a different direction, Lincoln realized that the war was linked with slavery. As the abolitionist Lydia Maria Child said, “we are drifting somewhere… Where we are drifting, I cannot see, but we are drifting somewhere; and our fate, whatever it may be, is bound up with slavery.”

The most poignant expression of the fact that Lincoln couldn’t ignore slavery was given by John L. Scripps, his campaign biographer. “To you sir has been accorded a higher privilege than was ever before vouchsafed to man. The success of free institutions rests with you. The destiny not alone of four millions of enslaved men and women, but of the great American people…is committed to your keeping. You must either make yourself the great central figure of our American history for all time to come, or your name will go down to posterity as one who…proved himself unequal to the grand trust.”

 

[Red_Galiray]

Chapter 20: The River War​

Ulysses S. Grant did not seem like the savior of the Union. He hadn’t achieved a victory like McDowell had; neither did he have the Napoleonic manner of McClellan or the decisive bravery of Lyon. Diffident, tormented by alcoholism that often drew unfair criticism and threw him into depression, Grant however proved himself to be equal to the task at hand. His legend started in 1862, when he conducted the war in the Mississippi after General Polk invaded the state.

Polk’s maneuver had been ill-advised, and it quickly lit the flame of Kentucky Unionism. “The actions of the Southern General,” a secessionist grimly concluded, “have destroyed the support we had enjoyed beforehand.” Despite this, thousands of Kentuckians rallied to the Southern banner, deciding that Lincoln was a greater threat than Breckinridge. Pushed to join a side, Kentuckians split equally in favor of the rebels and the federals, with around 40,000 fighting for each side during the war – though it would eventually tilt in favor of the Union in later years. Nonetheless, in the first years of the war Kentucky was still hotly contested, and the possibility of it falling to the Confederates was a very real one. The Lincoln administration, naturally, focused a lot of resources in securing the Union’s control over the state. The southernmost Union base at Cairo, Illinois, became a formidable supply depot and training area for this very purpose, and also resources were dedicated to acquiring and solidifying control over the many rivers of the region.

The rivers, as both Frémont and Grant recognized, would be vital for any campaign. The importance of the Mississippi is obvious enough, yet it still cannot be overstated. The Father of the Waters figured as an important part of the Anaconda Plan; taking it would split the Confederacy in twain, and provide access to the very heartland of the South. There were also other very important rivers in the region. Unlike Virginia, where the west-east orientation of the rivers served as an asset to the rebels, in the west most rivers actually benefited the bluejackets. The Confederacy placed its hopes in strategic forts that prevented ships from sailing down the river, thus hopefully warding off invasions and forcing the foe to march uselessly and sink under mud and disease. One factor working against these Confederate “Gibraltars” was the fact that the Union could build better ships, and employ them with more efficacy.

Leonidas Polk​

Part of it is, of course, the material element. The Confederacy simply did not have the resources to spare. Precious steel was better used in the production of arms and artillery, and even in that area it was scarce. This explains why the Confederates found it so hard to make boats in the quality and quantity necessary to completely keep the Union out from the Mississippi and its tributaries. Soldiers were also hard to come by. The problems the Breckinridge administration faced when it came to concentrating its forces have already been explained; to them, it should be added that the Confederate leadership often seemed strangely disinterested in the west, giving the lion’s share of attention, supplies and soldiers to the Maryland theater – and even there, Beauregard’s soldiers often complained of shortages.

Material superiority by itself would not be enough. Fortunately for Lincoln, the Union had also striking human talent. The main genius behind the river flotilla that so helped Grant in 1862 was James B. Eads, the Indiana-born resident of St. Louis who had been contracted by the government to build ships for use in the rivers of the region. The odd design of the ships could be owed to the genius of Samuel Pook, the main naval designer. Nicknamed "Pook’s turtles" due to their flat bottom, wide beams and thick iron armor, the ships were more than a match for the hastily converted Confederate gunboats. Their thirteen guns made them especially fearsome enemies of the Confederate forts that guarded the river system. Another formidable foe was Andrew Hull Foote, the naval officer in charge of the Western Gunboat Flotilla.

Outwardly, Foote seemed like the opposite of Grant. A naval officer with firm and deep religious beliefs that pushed him towards abolitionism and abstinence from alcohol, he contrasted Grant and his alcohol problems, lack of religious fervor and indifference towards slavery. Yet they established a good working relationship that bore good results for the Union they both cherished.

Grant and Foote’s fruitful cooperation helped to overcome the problem of army-navy relations when it came to inland water operations. Betraying the simple fact that the United States did not have the necessary institutional precedents for such a large and industrial war, there was a lot of confusion regarding how this kind of operation was to be conducted. The War Department quickly asserted that any inland operation was the Army’s responsibility, resulting in the peculiar arrangement of the Navy building, maintaining and piloting the ships but the Army being in charge. Congress would in due time rectify this, but in the meantime the Union leaders there had to make do with perplexing command chains and ragtag crews formed of sailors, soldiers, civilians and practically anyone else that was up to the task. Ironically enough, the gunboats earned their greater laurels here.

The first operation was an attack against the heights of Columbus, Kentucky, just south of Cairo. Polk had taken them at the start of his unwise invasion, and he then proceeded to fortify them with some 140 guns. The formidable position was the first to receive the perhaps haughty nickname of “Gibraltar of the West” – the rebels, much to their own frustration, also did not have an equivalent of the Royal Navy to defend it. Other forts dotted the Mississippi in its downriver course to Memphis, but they were poorly equipped because President Breckinridge, wanting to retake his beloved home state, had insisted on the fortification of the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers. Very important strategically, Union control of the rivers would make communications with Kentucky more difficult and put one of the Confederacy’s most important wheat-growing and mule-raising regions at risk.

Andrew Hull Foote​

Breckinridge chose a fellow son of Kentucky to command the Southern forces in the area. Albert Sydney Johnston had great military experience, being a veteran of the Black Hawk War, the Texan Revolution and the Mexican-American War. He had come to consider himself a Texan, and true to that he spent most of his years in the peacetime-army in the Lone Star State. His reputation and prestige earned him the respect and admiration of many, including, critically, that of Secretary of War Jefferson Davis. His personal story in the first months of the war even befitted that of a great general in the making – he resigned his position as commander of the California Department, evaded capture by armed patrols and set out in a daring trek across the continent to the Confederacy, to which he pledged his loyalty and service. His legend, commanding height and his pleasant manner gave him authority and respect. Davis went as far as naming him "the greatest soldier, the ablest man, civil or military, Confederate or Federal."

Now it was time to live up to that legend. His Department of the West had around 80,000 Confederates facing more than 100,000 Federals in a line that covered eastern Kentucky and parts of Missouri. While Johnston had been granted complete authority in the Confederate West, Union leadership was divided between the shrewd and capable, but oftentimes reckless and aggressive Nathaniel Lyon, and the impatient and battle-ready William T. Sherman. Lyon had been appointed commander of the Department of Missouri after Lincoln had been forced to dismiss Frémont. For his part, Sherman was sent to Kentucky following his distinguished participation in the Battle of Baltimore, where his regiment proved essential in pinning down Confederate reinforcements and thus securing victory.

But, worryingly enough, Sherman had started to display erratic behavior that points out to a nervous collapse. His demand for many more men was logical enough; the Battle of Baltimore had already shown that this was not to be a 90 days war. What alarmed his subordinates and superiors was his seeming paranoia when it came to spies, and his surly behavior. Nowadays, it’s pretty clear that Sherman fell into a case of depression. He even confessed in a letter that he entertained thoughts of suicide. His inability to help East Tennessee’s Unionists had been forgiven in account of his service at Baltimore and the fact that the difficult terrain made such a move all but impossible, but it still constituted a hit to his confidence.

Lincoln, still trying to find a winning strategy, asked Sherman and Lyon to cooperate. Urged on by General-in-chief Scott to keep up the planned descend on the Mississippi instead of “ghastly combats such as those at Baltimore”, Lincoln wanted to use his superior numbers to overwhelm the Confederates. "Attack different points, at the same time," the President advised his generals. Sherman was not willing to do so due to his wildly exaggerated estimations of Confederate strength in the zone, but Lyon was eager.

The Missourian found a like-minded official in Grant. The confidence of the Ohioan had been rising steadily, in part because his modesty and common-sense aptitude inspired respect and obedience from the enlisted men and earned him the high esteem of his superiors. The main factor seems to be a now famous anecdote about his first action as a colonel of an Illinois regiment. Fear and the desire to get out of the battlefield seemed to grapple Grant as he approached the rebel camp. Though personally brave, a trait he had shown sufficiently in the Mexican War, Grant now had the weight of command on his shoulders. Yet he carried on. When he finally reached the camp, he saw that the rebels had fled. The Southern commander, Grant realized, "had been as much afraid of me as I had been of him. This was a view of the question I had never taken before; but it was one I never forgot. . . . The lesson was valuable." The sang froid he acquired there would be expressed clearly in another incident, when a larger Confederate force encircled him and he decided against surrender, simply saying that "we had cut our way in and could cut our way out just as well." And he proceeded then to do just that.

Albert Sidney Johnston​

Grant suggested attacking Fort Henry on the Cumberland, a suggestion Lyon listened to almost immediately. Though the hot-headed Lyon had initially wanted to attack Columbus head on, he was no fool, and he recognized that Fort Henry was not well-placed, and that Johnston had neglected it because he expected the Union to attack Columbus or Bowling Green. Grant quickly landed to the South of Fort Henry in early January, but his troops slogged in the mud thanks to heavy rains. Ultimately, Foote’s gunboats did most of the work. Grant’s troops only arrived to take in the artillery company that had stayed in the Fort. Most of the garrison recognized that the situation was hopeless, and withdrew to Fort Donelson on the Cumberland, some 12 miles away from Fort Henry.

Now Grant was in the middle of the two main Confederate forces, something that understandably alarmed Johnston. Now the Federals could freely choose whether they wanted to attacked Columbus from the rear or subdue Donelson first. The possibility that distressed the Confederate general the most was Grant attacking his front while Sherman attacked him from the other side. The aggressive Lyon was quick to favor this idea, as he wanted to secure the complete destruction of the enemy. Grant had wanted to subdue Fort Donelson first, but Lyon decided not to miss this opportunity to crush the rebels. And thus, Grant was directed to bypass Fort Donelson and instead attack Johnston at Bowling Green.

The task of Johnston was harder thanks to the contradicting orders and desires of the President and the other Johnston. While Joseph E. Johnston, a believer in cautious defense, wanted Albert Sidney Johnston to retreat to a line along Nashville and protect the important iron there, Breckinridge did not want to leave his native state undefended. Ultimately, Breckinridge decided to concede to his general in-chief, but it’s clear that his opinion played a part in Albert Sidney Johnston’s ultimate decision of taking his whole army to Fort Donelson, where he hoped to defeat Grant before Sherman appeared behind him, retake Fort Henry thus securing his position at Columbus (which would need the repair of the vital Louisville and Nashville Railroad that Grant had cut) and then turn back to defend Nashville when Sherman came to attack him. Basically, Johnston was aiming for a offensive-defensive stroke that would allow him to face each Union army separately, with the possibility of retreating to Nashville still open if necessary.

The pieces were thus set for the first great battle of the Civil War in the west, one that pitted Lyon and Grant’s 45,000 men against Johnston’s 40,000. The destiny of Kentucky was to be decided in that pivotal confrontation, which started in January 19th, 1862. Like Baltimore, this battle would set a new standard for a new war, and create legends for ages to come. It would, also, be one of the bloodiest yet fought.
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AN: So, this chapter is a little shorter than usual, and also ends in a cliffhanger, mainly because I wanted to hear you guy's ideas, speculations and opinions before writing how this battle will actually take place. I fully admit that I'm more comfortable with social and political than with military and economic matters, and here's where the war starts to wildly diverge from OTL, so I'd like to hear some advice from you all. I do have a plan for how it all is going to unfold, but some further information never hurts.

 

[Red_Galiray]

Chapter 21: No terms except unconditional surrender​

In January 19th, 1862, General Ulysses S. Grant’s bluecoats approached Fort Donelson, in the Cumberland River. The plan was to cross it and quickly take the Fort. If resistance was found, Grant was to leave a small sieging force while his main army continue forward towards Columbus, where Albert Sidney Johnston’s Confederates were supposed to be. A telegram had already been sent to William T. Sherman’s force, to attack Johnston’s rear. If successful, the rebels could be trapped between the two Federal armies, and thus be destroyed. Knowing this, Johnston had left his position and marched to Fort Donelson, seeking to defeat and drive back Grant and then turn to face Sherman if necessary. Now the two armies were ready to clash.

The decision to fight instead of running like common sense seemed to dictate was a hard one. An important factor was that retreat to Nashville would mean the surrender of Kentucky, President Breckinridge’s home state. The Confederate President naturally loathed the idea of leaving his state alone to the “stern command of the Yankee despot” as he put it. Though he remained for the most part deferent to professional military men such as Davis or the two Johnstons, Breckinridge also wanted to take an active part in the shaping of the national strategy. Personal feelings seemed to cloud his judgement this time; he did not directly order Johnston to attack Grant, but he did ask him to “try and hold my state if it is expedient”.

Johnston telegraphed Breckinridge asking for further instructions. The Commander in Chief decided to ask for the opinions of his General in chief and of Beauregard. Ever aggressive, Beauregard endorsed the idea of attacking Grant and then turning towards Sherman. “We can push the Federal army towards the waters of the Ohio, and make sure that their flag shall never soil Kentucky ever again.” Joe Johnston was far more cautious. His jealousy and distrust of Beauregard may have played a part, but his proposal to simply retreat to Nashville (and perhaps absorb Zollicoffer’s force) was in line with his normal defensive thinking. However, by that time, Breckinridge was already quickly losing faith on him. As a result, he pushed for A. S. Johnston to continue with his plan, and the general put his doubts aside and accepted.

General Sherman’s poor performance at the East Tennessee campaign seems to have also motivated the decision, because it made the Confederates believe that he would not move the army fast enough to attack Johnston, allowing him to freely take on Grant. Sherman’s near mental breakdown raised the rebels’ hope for success.

Fort Donelson​

When he had first came to Kentucky on November, the red-haired Ohioan was ordered by Lincoln to attack through the Cumberland Mountains to relieve East Tennessee’s Unionists. Success at Kanawha apparently emboldened Lincoln, who wanted success there as well to assure the Unionist majority that he thought existed within the Confederacy that Federal arms would back then if they resisted Confederate rule. But Sherman called off the attack at the last minute, panicking about the supposedly overwhelming number of rebels. The fiasco resulted in the lamentable massacre of many Unionist partisans.

The administration showed some clemency towards Sherman thanks to his vital role at Baltimore. But Lincoln demanded action, and so did the Radical Republicans in Congress and many newspapers, which had attacked Sherman by calling him “an insane man on whom command should never be trusted.” Sherman’s angry comment did not help matters, but he caved to the pressure and allowed General George H. Thomas to go forward.

George Henry Thomas was an imposing Virginian who had served with Johnston’s 2nd Cavalry as a major. He had remained steadfastly loyal to the Union, which, naturally, was seen as treachery by the rebels. Serious and phlegmatic, he could never be surprised by anything, be it joyous news or calamitous disaster. Lincoln had at first doubted his loyalty, expecting him to resign like so many other Southerners had done. Sherman, however, assured the Commander in Chief of Thomas’ loyalty. Thomas repaid him with a scare – when Sherman told him the news, Thomas simply said that he was “going South”. Sherman was horrified, until Thomas clarified that he was going South to fight against treason.

At around the same time, the rebels moved towards the Cumberland Gap, the important pass between the mountains. The Confederate commander in charge of securing the area was Felix Zollicoffer, a former newspaper editor from Tennessee who emphatically rejected the saying “discretion is the better part of valor.” For Zollicoffer, valor was more than enough; thus, when he was ordered to Mill Springs, Kentucky, he did not remain south of the Cumberland as military sense might dictate, but rather crossed the river, challenging Thomas’ approaching Federals. Zollicoffer defied his commander, former US Senator Crittenden, and stayed north of the river. Reportedly, he did this because he felt that retreating would be cowardly and unmanly.

Felix Zollicoffer​

Thomas’ advance was slowed down by continuous rain, which he characterized as a “quagmire.” The rebels also suffered many miserable nights, especially Crittenden who felt that destruction was imminent. But after a week, he decided to take a gamble and send Zollicoffer to attack Thomas’ camp at Logan’s Crossroads. In a move that was similar to Johnston’s future plan, he wanted to attack one half of Thomas’ forces, separated from the other by the Fishing Creek, and after victory turn and destroy the other half.

Many factors worked against the Confederates in that day. Bad weather, for one, made the march miserable and difficult, especially for hungry and tired men. Thomas’ vigilant and ready aptitude also allowed his advance cavalry to discover the rebel advance, and have his men ready for battle when Zollicoffer launched the first attack. The Confederate advance soon ran out of steam – many men simply collapsed due to hunger and cold, and others had to retreat because their wet flintlocks would not fire. Thomas led a counterattack that broke the rebels and forced them back. Zollicoffer managed to led them over the river, but he had lost 500 men and lots of precious resources he could not replenish.

Thomas endeavored to pursue him, but the territory south of the river was a barren and cold land with unsuitable roads. Supply would be impossible, and his men were tired too. Always someone who carefully prepared for battle, Thomas did not believe they would be able to beat Zollicoffer’s men, even if they were whipped. Zollicoffer, despite his flaws, was charismatic and grandiose. The Kentucky and Tennessee troops were fiercely loyal, and they actually appreciated his proclamations, such as this call for arms to the Kentuckians: “Kentucky will never endure the destructions of its present social structures until every man has found a heroic death!”

On the Confederate side, an investigation was conducted to determine the blame. Zollicoffer, of course, was in a thin rope due to his insubordinate decision to camp north of the Cumberland. But he managed to pin the blame on Crittenden, even raising rumors that the ex-Senator was a traitor who did not want to fight because his brother was serving in the Union Army. Some men even accused him of being in “an almost beastly state of intoxication” during the battle. A court cleared him of treason, but condemned and demoted him for drunkenness. He would be eventually exiled to the Trans-Mississippi. Zollicoffer, for his part, was ordered to remain near the Cumberland Gap to pin down Thomas, and prevent him from joining Sherman in a possible attack against Johnston.

As for the Union perspective, Thomas’ victory was minor, but it potentially saved Sherman from being stripped of his command, and also was enough to please Lincoln for the moment. The president still wished that a campaign against East Tennessee be recommenced as soon as weather allowed it, and for that he asked Sherman to left Thomas’ army there. He also telegraphed Lyon and Sherman, reminding them that while the Confederates might have an advantage due to their capacity to shift troops through their interior lines, the Union had greater numbers and should use them to pin enemy troops and launch attacks at the same time. If successful, attacks of this nature would negate the Confederate advantage and stretch their already thin forces even thinner. Basically, the President asked his commanders to answer to Southern “concentration in space” with “concentration in time.” Nonetheless, he expressed some doubts to newly minted Secretary of War Stanton concerning Sherman’s panicky estimations of numbers.

In any case, the pieces were set for the confrontation. Johnston did not feel assured, however. For one, “Fort” Donelson could rather be described as a stockade formed by tents, and protected by artillery and trenches. Johnston had left 10,000 men there. Their objective was to pin a (hopefully large) part of Grant’s force. The defenses, though not really formidable, were expected to last at least some time. Enough at least for the rest of Johnston’s army, right then at the small village of Clarksville, to launch an attack. The commander in charge of the garrison was the mercurial S. B. Buckner.

S. B. Buckner. ​

Named after the legendary Venezuelan liberator Simon Bolivar, Buckner was hardly his namesake’s equal in either ideals or military talent. The first was obvious enough: whatever his flaws, Bolivar had always fought for liberty and despised slavery, while Buckner was fighting for bondage. The second would become apparent after the battle.

Following Lyon’s orders, Grant left around 15,000 men to siege Donelson while he searched for Johnston. Foote, hoping to achieve a success similar to that of Fort Henry, led his flotilla into an attack. Unfortunately for the Federals, the Confederate artillery men were more capable this time. Foote’s ships were unable to knock out even a single Confederate cannon, while these unleashed a volley of artillery that would finally force them to flee. However, and even though rebel morale soared, the defenders were still trapped and surrounded by a superior enemy force. But they had managed their objective of pinning down Union troops – Grant now had only 30,000 men, roughly equal to Johnston’s force. He set to cross the river south of Grant, so that he could surprise him.

But when the time of attack came, Johnston hesitated. His cavalry had been unable to determine whether Sherman was coming in his rear or not. The rebel general was ready to flee to Nashville if that was the case, which would entail abandoning the Donelson garrison. Sherman was dithering, his belief in superior Southern numbers not complete dispelled. Still, had Johnston remained at Bowling Green Sherman would have been there to give him battle; had he retreated to Nashville Sherman would be close enough to join Grant in an attack. It would have been almost impossible for Sherman to arrive at time to take part in the incoming battle. Nonetheless, it’s true enough that his dithering caused a delay.

Now that Foote had been driven away, Johnston finally acted in January 19th. Grant had remained above Fort Donelson, at Dover, waiting for Foote to come back and help him cross the river. Believing that there would be no battle unless he sought it, he instructed the officer holding Donelson, John A. McClernand, t simply hold his position. This would become a constant in Grant’s generalship – he often ignored what his enemies planned to do and focused on what he was going to do. Though such a pattern made him a dynamic and active general when compared with timid easterners, it also meant that sometimes the enemy could get the drop on him, like it happened at Dover.

In that day, rebel yells joined the howling winds of winter as the Southerners dashed forward. Johnston did manage to surprise Grant, but the Union general was just as steady and cool as always. He quickly realized that the Federal forces were strong enough to hold the terrain around Dover. That same terrain had allowed the Confederates at Donelson to resist a couple of probing attacks; now, they would allow Grant to resist the rebel advance. Johnston’s hope that the bluecoats’ commander would panic and flee did not materialize.

However, many Yankee boys did flee after all. They had been cocky and confident, despite the fact that almost none of them had “seen the elephant”, that is, actually fought the enemy. Many had heard stories of the carnage at Baltimore, but few could imagine what it really was like. Now they knew, and the experience was not a pleasant one. Many simply fled towards the rear. But this did not result in a Confederate victory, because most Dixie boys were just as scared.

While Johnston and Grant fought it out at Dover, Buckner tried to break-out of the Federal siege at Donelson. With Grant more focused on his battle against Johnston, and not believing that the besieged rebels would take action, he had neglected to give further instructions to McClernand. A political general who believed he ought to command the whole army instead of Grant, McClernand had earned nothing but the distrust of the Ohioan. That may be one of the reasons why he was left in Donelson, instead of accompanying the rest of Grant’s force. In any case, McClernand commanded around 5 brigades in the right of the Union line, where Buckner’s southerners attacked. Though his performance was actually quite good, McClernand was still driven back.

John A. McClernand​

Couriers rushed to find Grant, who could not go there in person. Grant, however, ordered the regiments to the left to join McClernand and retake the position. Those regiments had sat idly on account of Grant’s order to simply hold their positions. They came in time to fill the gap and stop Buckner’s advance. The Yankees then mounted a counterattack that inflicted heavy casualties on Buckner, who was forced back into the fort with a demoralized and weakened force. Some men did manage to escape as a result of the breakout attempt. Among them was the talented cavalry commander Nathan Bretford Forrest, who felt a burning hatred for both Yankees and free Black people. The Yankees, however, were not completely unbloodied. McClernand’s division had been badly whipped, even losing its commander – a stray bullet hit McClernand in the throat, killing him.

The Northerners fought similar success in the North, as Johnston turned cautious again. Perhaps it was fear of losing his reputation, or the reports that Sherman was finally coming. He also feared that Foote would come back and impede a river crossing, leaving him trapped at the wrong side of the Cumberland. That would mean the practical destruction of the Confederacy in the west. In any case, it was clear that Grant could not be broken. With coolness and bravery, Grant personally visited several of his division commanders and rallied back the stranglers. His right flank had been driven back, but General Prentiss’ men resisted bravely. The Confederates launched several disjointed attacks that were all repulsed. The advantage of terrain was especially helpful for the Federals.

Night fell over nightmarish scenes of human suffering and carnage. Wounded soldiers laid in the freezing snow – it is said that some Union and Confederate soldiers huddled together to keep warm. The night was miserable, a night “so cruel, so long” where the only company the soldiers had were the pained groans of their comrades, and the sounds of shelling artillery. Grant and Johnston both, to their credit, had shared their men’s discomfort.

Prentiss salient had resisted defiantly, and Grant maintained his determination. When some officers recommended a retreat, Grant refused: "Retreat? No. I propose to attack at daylight and whip them." Johnston, however, had lost his will. He had lost more men than the Federals had, and the news of the failed breakout attempt at Donelson had badly demoralized his command. More than anything, it seems that Johnston simply was not ready yet for the level of fighting seen that day at Dover. Bloody and terrible fighting had raged all day, wounding and killing thousands. Fighting as terrible as that of Baltimore had finally reached the West.

Grant fulfilled his plan and attacked the rebels at daybreak. The surprised and already depressed rebels were driven back to their original position. Some had hoped that Grant could be pined against the river and destroyed. Now it seemed that they would have that fate. The Southerners were tired, hungry and cold; Grant’s dashing Yankee boys, smelling victory, were eager to go forward and finish the job. At least some of them were, anyway. Whatever the case, Johnston decided that continuing the fight would only result in their destruction as he expected Sherman to arrive at any time. Some reports given by Forrest also showed that Lyon was sending fresh men from further west. An officer finally asked Johnston whether the men hadn’t had enough, and the general agreed. The rebels finally crossed the Cumberland, ending the battle of Dover.

Grant tried to pursue them, but his men were just as tired and demoralized. Realizing that a pursuit would be fruitless, and content with the victory, Lyon allowed Grant to continue the siege of Fort Donelson. Disgusted with Johnston’s “inglorious flight” and feeling that another attempt at escape would just result in senseless murder, Buckner decided to offer surrender terms to Grant in January 20th. The Confederate maybe hoped that Grant would have some mercy – after all, it was supposed to be a gentleman’s war, and Buckner had even borrowed some money to Grant when he was down on his luck. Only a blunt reply came: “No terms except immediate and unconditional surrender can be accepted.” Though he complained of these "ungenerous and unchivalrous" words, Buckner realized that he had no choice, and he surrendered the men that were left at Donelson.

Battle of Dover​

The Battles of Dover and Donelson made Grant go from an obscure captain to a celebrated war hero in just a couple of days. Northern bells chimed, and cannons gave salutes to the victory. For example, big celebrations were held in Chicago. “Chicago reeled mad with joy . . . Such events happen but once in a lifetime, and we who passed through the scenes of yesterday lived a generation in a day.” The press quickly adopted his words, and even nicknamed him “Unconditional Surrender” Grant, which coincidentally matched his initials. Counting both battles, the Union had lost 1,500 killed, 6,000 wounded, and 2,000 captured or missing, a total of 9,500 men, three times as many casualties as in Baltimore. The rebels fared worse, losing 1,600 killed, 6,200 wounded, and 12,000 captured or missing. Put together, the 19,800 represented a third of Johnston’s force in the Kentucky-Tennessee theater.

A man of honor, Lyon immediately admitted that all the laurels of victory were Grant’s. Lincoln recognized his efforts, and promoted him to Major General, making him only second to Lyon in authority. Lincoln was just was overjoyed as the rest of his people. After months of inaction and disappointment in the east, the news was more than welcome. A lieutenant wrote to Grant, telling him that “Uncle Abe was joyful, and said everything of your boys and spoke of you—in his plain, sensible appreciation of merit and skill.” A certain sense of regional pride seems to have taken over Lincoln, for he also wrote that “if the Southerners think that man for man they are better than our Illinois men, or western men generally, they will discover themselves in a grievous mistake.” Newspapers were also similarly sanguine. The New York Tribune, for instance, declared that "The cause of the Union now marches on in every section of the country. Every blow tells fearfully against the rebellion. The rebels themselves are panic-stricken, or despondent. It now requires no very far-reaching prophet to predict the end of the struggle."

The victory forced Johnston to retreat from Nashville a week after the battle. Despondency took over the people of the city as Johnston announced that he would make no stand to try and hold back Sherman. Perhaps sensing things to come, the soldiers warned the civilians of the “bloodthirsty abolitionists” and said that not even ashes would remain after they passed. Panic spread as everybody who could escaped the city. Columbus was similarly evacuated, and then taken by a Union Army commanded by John Pope. All of Kentucky, and a large part of Western Tennessee (though much to Lincoln’s chagrin, not East Tennessee) came under Union control.

The Battles of Fort Donelson and Dover​

The victory also resulted, indirectly, in Sherman being removed as commander of the Department of Ohio. Lincoln was not satisfied with his performance in East Tennessee, and believed that had Sherman been faster, the total destruction of the Confederates would have been achieved. This showed that Lincoln’s strategic thinking had already started to change, since he was focusing on the destruction of the enemy more than in the capture of their cities. Sherman instead was put under Grant’s command, to replace the fallen McClernand as division commander. Unwittingly, Lincoln did great favors to the Union cause for that change allowed Grant and Sherman to meet and form one of the great teams of the war. Lincoln also offered supreme command of the West to Lyon, who refused because he still wanted to keep an eye on his beloved Missouri. Instead, he appointed Don Carlos Buell as commander of the Sherman’s former Department.

While patriotic fervor and joy dominated the Northern press and mood, the Southerners despaired. Newspapers complained of the "disgraceful . . . shameful . . . catalogue of disasters”, while James Mason, minister plenipotentiary to Britain, said that "the late reverses at Fort Henry and Fort Donelson have had an unfortunate effect upon the minds of our friends here.” The demoralizing effect it had in the Southern mind cannot be discounted, for it meant that the Union troops marched with enthusiasm and energy in their next eastern campaign after months where everything had remained all quiet along the Susquehanna.

 

[Red_Galiray]

The long and restive months between the Battle of Baltimore and January, 1862, proved to be tortuous and difficult for President Lincoln. Baltimore had been retaken, but Washington remained in enemy hands. Since the Union could not even retake its capital, prospects for taking the rebel one seemed dim. McDowell, overwhelmed with his duties as commander of the Army of the Susquehanna, seemed unable or unwilling to actually use the army and go on the offensive. His general in-chief, Winfield Scott, remained steadfast against a hard war. He did not have the energy to pursue one anyway, due to his age and poor health. If the war had been only a contest between armies, the situation would not have been so worrying. But it was more than that – it was a war between peoples, one where political factors were more than mere abstractions, but constituted actual realities that had to be taken into account. Each month that passed without action, each inconclusive probing attack, all eroded support for the war and the morale of the Union.

These realities caused several problems for Lincoln in the political sphere. Since the US was a Democratic Republic with a strong tradition of military subordination to the civilian authorities, the election of commanders and their actions could not be separated from public opinion or the democratic process. This helps to explain why McDowell was not pressured into attacking. Lincoln believed that, with the rebels disorganized, McDowell could push on forward and destroy Beauregard’s army, thus ending the rebellion with a swift blow. But the general felt that his men were in no condition to continue. He may have had a point: most of them were exhausted due to the difficult and bloody fight. But the rebels were just as tired, and more demoralized to boot. An undertone of reproach colored McDowell’s reply, for he believed that Lincoln pressuring him into attacking before he was ready was to blame for the heavy casualties.

In any case, Lincoln for the moment was inclined to defer to professional military men. He was no military expert, that is certain. Neither was he some kind of genius, at least not when it came to learning and applying information. That is something people close to him recognized. Some people may be able to read a book and two and immediately grasp its meaning. But Lincoln needed to read it again and again to fully comprehend it. His greatest virtue in this regard was that he did not stop until he completely dominated the subject. “He was not a quick study but a thorough one,” in the words of McPherson. He had taught himself how to be a lawyer; now, he was determined to teach himself how to be a Commander in-chief. Lincoln burned the night oil in many occasions, reading books on military theory and analyzing maps.

He needed that studying, for he truly did not have much counsel. Precedent might be expected to shed some light on what he needed to do, but in truth it was not very useful. The Revolutionary War provided motivation to the masses and ideals to follow; but Lincoln could not follow the example of Washington. He had to quell a rebellion, not lead one to victory. The precedent of Madison in 1812 and Polk in 1846 were more promising. However, Madison had lost, or at the most achieved a tie. In the Civil War, a tie would be paramount to a Southern victory. How war was conducted had changed, anyway.

John Hay, one of Lincoln's two private secretaries, testified to the President's intensive study of the ilitary situation​

As for Polk, a Supreme Court ruling had disposed that the President could use the armed forces “in the manner he may deem most effectual to harass and conquer and subdue the enemy.” This was somewhat vague, mostly because it did not clearly delimit the President’s war powers. Besides, Polk’s challenge was not as great as Lincoln’s –subjugating the rebels would be much more difficult than defeating weak and divided Mexico had been. For better or for worse, Lincoln himself would have to define the national strategy and help develop the tactics necessary to achieve it.

Soon enough, he developed his own conception of war, coming to the conclusion that the Union and the Constitution had to be preserved at all hazards, even if that meant, paradoxically enough, stretching the letter or even outright violating the Constitution. One must not, however, go as far as Conservative opponents did and dismiss Lincoln as a tyrant with no regard for the Constitution. He recognized that some of his actions did not have “any authority of law” yet believed that they were necessary, for he was forced “to choose whether, using only the existing means, agencies, and processes which Congress had provided, I should let the government fall at once into ruin, or whether, availing myself of the broader powers conferred by the Constitution in cases of insurrection, I would make an effort to save it with all its blessings for the present age and for posterity.” At times, Lincoln had to use the justification of “war powers” to skip Constitutional restrictions, all in order to save the Union and the Constitution itself.

These actions generated much controversy then, and continue to be controversial even today. Besides the well-known judicial challenges, they became a rallying point for opponents of the administration. The virtual destruction of the Democratic Party was beneficial, for it meant that no effective opposition party existed in the first months of the war. This allowed Lincoln to focus on the military situation, which, lamentably, did not seem very promising.

Lincoln sought to reorganize and reinvigorate the Army of the Susquehanna following Baltimore. Butler was too important as a politician to simply dismiss, and he enjoyed some radical support thanks to his “contraband” policy. Thus, he was placed in command at Baltimore. To replace him, the popular McClellan was brought from the valleys of Kanawha to Annapolis. People who were dissatisfied with McDowell were quick to rally to him, and McClellan welcomed the move, for he believed that he ought to command the Army of the Susquehanna.

“I already see the main causes of our failure to follow on our recent successes—I am sure that I can remedy these and am confident that I can lead these armies of men to victory once more. I start tomorrow very early on a tour through the lines.” Though McClellan’s arrogance and his at times petulant belief that he was superior to all the men around him brought problems for the Union in the future, his self-confidence seemed justified during those months. An excellent organizer who often worked for 16 hours straight, he energetically and ably transformed the men of Annapolis from "a mere collection of regiments cowering on a small Peninsula" to a fine army. McClellan’s success seemed greater when compared with McDowell’s own meager results.

It wasn’t that McDowell was a bad commander. It’s just that he couldn’t match McClellan’s energy, passion and charisma. While McClellan’s men adored him and were ready to go and “carry this thing 'en grand' & crush the rebels in one campaign”, McDowell’s seemed depressed and weary. It also seems that McDowell simply had bad luck, and no skill at forging relations or playing politics; McClellan, on the other hand, had airs of a “man of destiny”, as a contemporary observed, and he was as good at building up political support as he was at building up armies.

McClellan would eventually develop a fanatic and very loyal following among the enlisted men​

McClellan’s first objective, rather than Stonewall Jackson’s gray-backs, seemed to be his own commander – McDowell. He criticized him, saying that “that villain, perfect at obstructing and delaying and nothing else” was the only thing preventing the destruction of the rebel army. Yet, ironically, McClellan also demanded thousands of men more to defend Annapolis, for he believed that Beauregard had triple his numbers and was preparing to crush him. McDowell couldn’t supply the men, so McClellan promptly charged that he was “condemning my gallant command to extermination by a foe clearly superior in numbers.”

However, the person who gathered the greatest criticism was General Scott. McClellan did not criticize him as openly, but he still disrespected him in other ways. Old Fuss and Feathers felt specially insulted when McClellan bypassed him (and McDowell for that matter) and offered a dazzling, if slightly unrealistic, plan to crush the rebellion. The plan greatly pleased Lincoln, for it fitted his view that the Union should use its superior numbers to attack several points at once and stretch the Confederates thin to the point of breaking. Using a backwoods metaphor, he compared the strategy with a man who can swat a wasp away, but would be defenseless if the entire nest attacked him. But McClellan’s plan did not involve a single nest – it required twice the number of men the Union had either trained or in training, and as a result it was not seriously considered for the moment.

But the fact that Lincoln listened to McClellan points to his growing disenchantment with Scott and McDowell. McDowell, the victor of Baltimore, was untouchable for the moment. Scott had laurels as large as his, but those were earned in a bygone era. McClellan was not the only one criticizing him, for Republicans in Congress also demanded a change in command. McDowell, though he respected Scott, was also disillusioned with him. Lincoln had come to believe that he needed a shake-up in the command if he was to win the war. Scott himself would welcome the change, since he was “unable to ride in the saddle, or to walk, by reason of dropsy in my feet and legs, and paralysis in the small of the back”, as he himself recognized. So, when he requested a leave of absence for motives of health (a resignation for all practical purposes) in October, Lincoln was tempted to accept it but ultimately persuaded Scott to remain because he had no replacement at hand.

McDowell seemed to be the natural choice for a new General in-chief, but he believed that the duties of that post combined with those he already had as commander of the Army of the Susquehanna would be too much, and Lincoln agreed. McClellan was presented as an option, but the Young Napoleon, unlike McDowell, believed that he could do it all and wanted to command for the Army of the Susquehanna and be General in-chief, and was not willing to settle for just one of those posts. There was also the fact that Scott opposed naming McClellan as his successor, partly out of personal dislike. Scott instead recommended Henry W. Halleck.

Called “Old Brains” due to his powerful intellect and his domed forehead, Halleck was renowned as an expert strategist. He had written the highly respected Elements of Military Arts and Science, a book which incorporated many elements of Jominian thought, the doctrine that dominated the strategy of many Civil War commanders. Pauchy and irritable, Halleck could not match McClellan’s charisma, but he had similar talents for administration and the training of armies. At the start of the war he was in California, but he was quickly commissioned as a major general, the fourth in rank after McDowell, Frémont and McClellan. At first it seemed like he was going to get command of the Missouri Department, but when Lyon got the post instead, he went to the East and assumed a command in the Army of the Susquehanna. There, he showed his administrative prowess, earning the admiration of the press, McDowell, and of the President. After discussing the matter with his cabinet, Lincoln decided to accept Scott’s resignation on October 27th, and appointed Halleck as the new General in-chief.

Halleck’s appointments raised the hopes many held for a victory before the Army was forced into winter quarters. Practically everybody already knew that McDowell did not have any big offensive planned. That “everybody” included, much to Lincoln’s chagrin, the rebels, who were free to rest and regroup. Under Beauregard’s direction, the defenses at the Patapsco and around Annapolis had been strengthened, and batteries planted in the rivers.

Henry Wager Halleck​

McDowell had not been completely inactive, however. Decided to prevent another bloody fight, he had drafted plans for a feint to be conducted against the position at Sweetser’s Bridge. The rebels would be forced to shift troops to that area, to the east of their main position. Afterwards, the feint would be followed by an all-out attack at the Annapolis defenses, which McDowell correctly identified as the weak link in the Southern defenses. Once McClellan’s army was free from its “corking” (as Lincoln had dubbed it), it would be free to attack the rear of the Confederates, who were expected to be at Elkridge’s Landing, contesting the Union crossing. The rest of the Union force would then attack at Ellicott’s Mills, and cross the Patapsco after brushing aside the (hopefully weakened) rebel force.

If successful, the plan would trap the main Confederate army, with the Chesapeake to its east, and Union forces to its north, west and south. It would decisively destroy the rebels and open the way to Washington. If Beauregard refused the bait and kept most of his men at Ellicott’s Mills, McDowell would still be able to get a large part of his force south of the Patapsco. Then he could attack at Ellicott’s Mills, pinning the Southerners there, and the force that had crossed could attack Beauregard’s rear. To prevent that Beauregard could withdraw, but he would find his way blocked by McClellan, who would have broken out of Annapolis by then. Either way, the plan seemed to secure either the destruction of the rebels or their inglorious retreat. But McDowell insisted on thoroughly preparing for the attack first. In the meantime, minor actions were conducted.

The first of these took place in the small village of New Market, east of the Unionist capital of Maryland, Frederick. Though Patterson had failed to pin the troops there back during the Baltimore campaign, the Southerners started to grow anxious and planned to move behind the Bush Creek, concentrating their forces behind a more defensible line. Union troops moved forward to discover that the “big cannons” there were actually painted logs. These “Quaker guns”, called like that because they were as threatening as the members of that pacifist religious sect, caused great embarrassment within the Union ranks. But it also made them realize that many of the batteries in the Patapsco might be Quaker Guns too.

An action took place on November 7th, when McDowell asked McClellan to probe the Annapolis defenses to test whether he would be able to break them when the time came. But McClellan failed, just like Butler had before him. It seems that the failure can be owed mostly to McClellan’s timidity, but newspapers and public opinion seemed more willing to believe McClellan’s denunciations that McDowell and Halleck had failed to provide him with enough men. The attack did have a positive consequence – for the rebels. The accolades Jackson received for repealing a second attack got Johnston’s attention. He concluded that McClellan was too timid, and that they could make better use of Jackson by employing him in the Patapsco, something that suited him better than playing defense.

Spoiler: McDowell's Plan

The lack of action caused the Northern press to be waspish and recriminatory. The Susquehanna River was not in the front lines, but the popular impression was that McDowell was simply sitting on his hands in Havre de Grace, without doing anything to advance the Union cause. Thus, the bitter saying “All quiet along the Susquehanna” came to be. A congressman expressed the people’s frustration when he demanded “Action! Action is what we want and must have.”

Even if the Army was not conducting any maneuvers during those last months of 1861, the politicians were. The main target was the inefficient and often corrupt Secretary of War, Simon Cameron. In his report of October 8th, 1861, which Lincoln had requested in order to determine whether he should replace Scott or not, Cameron had endorsed the enlistment of Black soldiers. Some have, as a result, interpreted his stepping down in middle December as a punishment for radicalism. But the truth is deceptively simple: Cameron was a bad administrator, and the War Department under him languished with corruption and inefficiency.

Cameron himself seemed to realize that he was way over his head. At first, he felt insulted, characterizing the dismissal as “personal degradation.” Nevertheless, after Lincoln had phrased the offer more tactfully, he accepted. Cameron followed Lincoln’s suggestion to frame the dismissal as him stepping down to the more comfortable post of Minister to Russia, so as to preserve his reputation. But Radicals in Congress were still dissatisfied with the move, and their dissatisfaction came at a bad moment for the Congressional session of December 1861 would treat several critical matters related to slavery.

To replace Cameron, Lincoln selected Edwin M. Stanton. Years ago, after Lincoln was elected as a Senator but before he would assume his new office, the important case of McCormick v. Manny was held in Cincinnati. Stanton, as a brilliant up and coming lawyer was contracted by Manny’s defense attorneys. Lincoln had been previously contracted when the case was going to held in Chicago; they neglected to tell him of the change of venue or to tell him that his services were no longer required. When Lincoln showed up at Cincinnati, he was rudely spurned and ignored by Stanton and the rest of the lawyers, who simply did not acknowledge his presence.

One of Lincoln’s greatest qualities as a statesman was his ability to see past slights like those. Others would be unwilling to move on; Lincoln would forgive if the good of the country required it. And so, despite Stanton’s difficult personality and his well-known criticism of the President, he was appointed as the new Secretary of War. Seward and Chase may have played a part. Chase’s role was obvious enough, for he and Stanton were friends and Chase believed that he would be a good ally. Seward, for his part, fondly remembered that Stanton had provided assistance as a Washington insider during Buchanan’s months as a lame-duck. Stanton had refused to serve in Buchanan’s cabinet, for he could still not accept the admission of Kansas as a slave state, but the intelligence he provided to Seward was very valuable, even if Seward’s maneuvers were ultimately unsuccessful.

Just 47 years old, Stanton's long bear made him appear older​

Stanton was efficient, energetic and incorruptible, as well as rude and brusque. But contractors accustomed to selling diseased horses or faulty weapons needed someone like him. Stanton brought to the War Department the same kind of energy that he brought to trials. “He puts his whole soul into any cause he espouses,” an observer said, “he toils for his client with as much industry as if his case was his own…as if his own life depended upon the issue.” Thanks to the new secretary, the War Department started to hum like a well-oiled machine, giving McDowell and Halleck the supplies they needed to build up their armies.

But whether they would use those armies remained to be seen. The months tickled by, and still no attack came. And so, the Army of the Susquehanna went into winter quarters. They hadn’t fought any battle since Baltimore, and Washington was still in the hands of the enemy. The new year was fast approaching, and Lincoln still had many woes. The lack of action and bickering of his generals was one, of course, but the actions of the Radical Republicans in Congress and the conservative reaction occupied most of his attention in December. And there was still the specter of foreign recognition, since the European Powers had not failed to notice that the Union seemed powerless and weak, its capital still occupied by its foes. Lincoln needed action and victories, especially in the East, but everything remained All Quiet along the Susquehanna during those trying months of the winter of 1861-1862.

 

[Red_Galiray]

One of Lincoln’s many woes in the winter of 1861-1862 was the conservative reaction to his policies and also to the proposals of Congress’ Radical Republicans. These Radicals continued to push forward with an agenda that had as goals not only the complete destruction of slavery, but also a gigantic social and economic transformation that would erect a new South based on the principles of Free Labor, Liberty and Equality. They had taken many steps forward during the session of July-August, and now Congress was back in session. Even if the President was not ready to embrace “the glorious Second American Revolution”, as one called it, they would have to drag him along.

The main reason behind the President’s reluctance was his aversion to “a violent and remorseless revolutionary struggle”. Yet, Lincoln commented that the worst had passed in the Border States. and that Unionism was firmly asserting itself. Moreover, he invited the Congress to further legislate on the subject of slavery, but asked them to avoid “radical and extreme measures.” Radicals hear him, but did not listen. They agreed with Moncure Conway when he declared that the Confederacy was “rebellion against the noblest of revolutions." Even before Lincoln had given his speech at the opening of the session, some Republicans had made it clear that they would take new steps to ensure the success of this new revolution.

As always, events or lack thereof in the military battlefield had an effect on the political stage. The lack of action in the Maryland theater frustrated Republicans, who demanded a harder war and accused Lincoln of expressing “too much tenderness for traitors.” Similarly, they had lost their faith in a secret Unionist majority in the South. For some, the only true Unionists in the South were the slaves, and even conservatives agreed that freeing them would be a hard blow against the rebellion. Lincoln agreed with them, not believing anymore that the Confederacy would be destroyed from within by hidden Unionists. But he still sought to apply a constitutional solution to the problem, and also to maintain command of the national policy regarding slavery rather than allow Congress to lead.

For that reason, Lincoln started to push for compensated emancipation in the Border States. Being that three of the four were under Unionists governments that opposed Confederate administrations, Lincoln had hopes that they would be more open to the abolition of slavery. Maryland and Delaware seemed the most promising choices. Delaware was obvious enough. Characterized by some as the “least Southern of the slave states”, it had also the lowest Slave population coupled with a relatively large community of free Blacks. In fact, Delaware had almost enacted gradual emancipation in 1847, failing by just one vote. Quakers and others in the Northern part of the state formed a nucleus of anti-slavery politics within Delaware.

Moncure Conway​

Maryland, for her part, was promising due to the fierce Unionism of the Frederick government and the fact that most Maryland slaveowners and plantations had declared their allegiance for the Confederacy. Resentment on the part of the Maryland Unionists against the Slavocrats could be expected and used for abolitionist goals. In any case, the institution had been suffering slow but sure erosion as thousands of slaves escaped to Army lines.

Unfortunately, Lincoln’s hopes were frustrated by prejudice and Negrophobia. As Senator James A. Bayard said, the main obstacle was fear that abolition would lead to the “equality of races.” Lincoln had drafted a proposal to abolish slavery along a ten-year period, with both states receiving Federal compensation. This was indeed a momentous step, which conservatives opposed as unwanted and unconstitutional Federal interference in state matters. Overzealous radicals also criticized the plan for failing to recognize the “great fundamental principle that man cannot hold property in man.” But Lincoln made it clear that compensated, gradual emancipation was the only constitutional measure that could be taken in the Border States, where the Constitution still operated. As historian Eric Foner points out, “the plan made slaveholders partners in, rather than opponents of, emancipation, and offered a way of ending the institution without violence or social revolution.”

Both plans, nonetheless, failed miserably. In November 1861, George P. Fisher, Delaware’s at-large Unionist Representative, drafted a bill putting the Lincoln plan into motion. Immediately, conservatives sprung to action and attacked the bill, crying that the government had “no authority to appropriate the treasure of the United States to buy negroes, or to set them free,” and that abolition would lead to Black suffrage and racial equality. The opposition joined and by a solid vote defeated the measure decisively.

The Lincoln plan found no better welcome in Maryland. Since the Chesapeake counties and Baltimore had been under the control of the Confederacy until August, they were not represented at the Frederick government. Instead, most delegates came from the Northern part of the state, an area with few slaves whose economic health was linked with the North. But once again hate of the Negro frustrated the Administration’s efforts. Governor Hicks went as far as declaring that talking of abolition was “treason”, an ironic accusation that gathered much mockery by Republican newspapers. “Treason!”, one exclaimed, “how can abolition be treason? Abolition is simply the instrument through which treason will be suppressed.” The Frederick government refused to even consider the bill, which never went up for a vote.

Some have said that the proposals failed because Lincoln refused to endorse a plan of colonization that would remove the slaves from the states, and perhaps the US as a whole. As an Illinois National Unionist said, the people were not ready to set the slaves “loose in their midst.” Even Lincoln’s intimate friend Joshua Speed warned that people would not allow “negroes to be emancipated and remain among us.” Colonization was favored by conservative Republicans and anti-slavery men who shrank at the idea of racial equality.

Joshua Speed​

As an idea, colonization was based on an oftentimes weird mix of racism, paternalist compassion and imperialism. It was advocated as a solution to the dangerous idea of racial equality by such men as Jefferson and Clay, the latter of whom had been described by Lincoln as his “beau idea of a statesman.” The American Colonization Society had founded Liberia in an attempt to put this plan into action, but it was clear that the effort was not going to succeed. The Blair family put forward another proposal for colonization in Central America and Haiti, which made the rounds before the war and during its first months.

Many colonizationists were motivated by open racism, saying that it "would relieve us from the curse of free blacks.” Underneath the idea of colonization was the belief that the United States should be a purely Anglo-saxon nation, and that the Negro was nothing but a “feeble and foreign” element. However, some Republicans supported colonization because they earnestly thought that prejudice could never be eradicated, and as such it was better for everyone if African-Americans left and build a respectable life for themselves elsewhere. One, for example, recommended Latin America because there “color is no degradation,” and Ben Wade also added that it’s "perfectly impossible that these two races can inhabit the same place and be prosperous and happy." Some, like the Blairs, also saw colonization as a way to advance American commercial interests and spread their culture and institution. Such praise is of course ironical and difficult to comprehend, for it subconsciously recognized that Blacks were thoroughly American in culture and customs, yet still supported their emigration, some going as far as proposing forced colonization.

Ultimately, colonization was not an attempt to solve a problem, but to sidestep it. Lincoln recognized as much when he said that “if all earthly power were given me, I should not know what to do, as to the existing institution,” back during his Senatorial campaign in 1854. Endorsing colonization was a way to ignore the difficult problem, but after he became a Senator he could no longer ignore it. Frederick Douglass would remark that Lincoln was completely free “from popular prejudice against the colored race.” But his experience with Black people was very limited. He had seen slaves while travelling down to New Orleans, and when returning home from Speed’s house at Kentucky, but it seems that neither experience left a deep mark. In the second, at least, he was wallowing in self-pity due to his breakup with Mary Todd, and would as a result comment that the slaves seemed “cheerful.” In small Springfield, his dealings with Black people were limited and brief, but he was always respectful.

Lincoln’s world-view started to change after he arrived at Washington D.C. For the first time in his life, he met Black leaders, and could see the horrors of slavery in person. True, he had served in Congress as a Representative, but his stint was brief and the sectional tensions were not as inflamed as in 1855. Now he returned as a more experienced man, in the middle of a great controversy. He met with important leaders of the African-American community, such as Harriet Tubman and Frederick Douglass, who would become a friend and frequent advisor. He also saw firsthand the great opposition of the South towards any kind of emancipation or legal equality, and their praise for the institution he so despised undoubtedly left a deep and negative impression.

Colonization focused on Africa at first but then shifted towards Central America​

Lincoln would mention colonization again during the 1856 campaign, when he became one of Frémont’s foremost speakers in Illinois. But Radical and Black leaders made it clear that they would not support any such scheme, and thus Lincoln’s opinions started to change. He did not mention colonization publicly again, though for obvious political reasons he could not come against it either, especially in a state like Illinois, where many disliked slavery but hated the Negro even more. As a result, Lincoln was forced to meet the issue of the future of African-Americans after emancipation, and he articulated his view of legal and civil equality that would allow for future economic equality, though he remained apprehensive about the prospect of social equality. Come the Civil War, Lincoln outright refused to entertain the Blair plans for colonization. This has been blamed as the main cause for the failure of compensated emancipation in Maryland and Delaware, but it’s unlikely that either state would have implemented the plan even if it went hand in hand with colonization.

Either way, it was becoming increasingly clear to the President that the Border South would not undertake emancipation by itself, and that the war could not be fought with “rose-water stalks” anymore. Criticism from the radicals also rose to a crescendo. Gideon Welles commented that the rebellion “rapidly increased the anti-slavery sentiment everywhere”, and he was right. Indeed, at the very start of the war, abolitionists were persona non-grata in several cities, their lives threatened by people who blamed them for the war. But “a wondrous change” took place after the fall of Washington. Part of it was, of course, the desire of revenge of many. But it also signaled a veritable shift in public opinion against slavery. "Never has there been a time when Abolitionists were as much respected, as at present," commented one in a letter to the veteran abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison.

An Illinoisan thought “that the people are far ahead of the leaders today in their readiness to take the proper steps to put down this rebellion.” But in truth, agitation in Congress matched and even surpassed the agitation of the people. Wendell Philipps gave many speeches before the Senate, demanding a “permanent Union, founded on permanent Freedom, that knows neither black nor white,…[and] holds an equal sceptre over all.” There was also great discontent over the President’s perceived lack of action over the slavery question. Garrison commented that Lincoln had “evidently not a drop of antislavery blood in his veins,” and a constituent wrote to his Republican congressman saying that “If this struggle ends with slavery still in existence, the Battle of Liberty has been only half-fought.”

The Radicals were also skeptical about the Lincoln plan for emancipation in the Border South. When the December session had just started, the plan had already failed at Delaware but there was some hope that Maryland could adopt it. Lincoln then asked Congress to appropriate federal funds to aid any state that undertook gradual emancipation, though he specified that the government was recompensating the states, not the slaveholders.

Wendell Phillips​

Centrists praised the plan, some as a stroke against slavery, others as a policy that would deflate radical plans. Though the Radicals did not talk against it as openly as Conservatives did, they did see it as a half-measure that lacked the vigor needed. Stevens, for example, considered it “it is about most diluted, milk and water gruel proposition that was ever given to the American nation.” Others had little hope for its success. “I have never been able to discover a difference in views or feelings between a man from Maryland and a man from South Carolina or Alabama,” commented a congressman, who felt validated after the Frederick government refused to consider the plan.

In any case, the session of December 1861 passed or considered several bills that took greater action against slavery. It even annoyed Lincoln at times, making the President complain of “Jacobinism”, and other Republicans similarly chafed at how the Radicals considered themselves “the representatives of all righteousness.” But Lincoln also took meaningful action against slavery, such as negotiating and enforcing an anti-slavery treaty with Britain. It’s pretty telling that Lincoln, a man of great compassion, allowed a slave trader to be hanged as a pirate despite conservative pleadings for him to interfere.

He also worked together with Congress to pass many anti-slavery measures. After refusing to renew the Johnson resolutions, Republicans voted to partially repeal the Fugitive Slave Act, disposing that it could only be enforced in areas in peace away from the theaters of combat, which practically limited it to Delaware, and giving the protection of court testimony and habeas corpus to Blacks. A bill to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia and all territories was signed by Lincoln, though it liberated almost no slaves since the capital was still under Confederate occupation. It did provide compensation for Washington slaveholders who had fled to Maryland, and many accepted it because “slave property had lost so much value as to be worthless.” An abolitionist celebrated saying that “hen the army of freedom takes back the Federal city, it will also become a city of Freedom.” A law forbidding Army officers from returning slaves under threat of court-martial gave a final coup de grace to the Fugitive Slave Act for all practical purposes.

The most radical measure passed by Congress was the Second Confiscation Act. It confiscated all slaves of all persons engaging in rebellion or aiding it, thus going much farther than the First Act had gone. Some legislative fights had taken place over its wording and scope. The Radical Henry Wilson, for example, wanted the act to not merely authorize the President to confiscate the slaves, but to also require him to. Ultimately, the measure that was passed and signed into law gave Lincoln discretion over how and when he should enforce it. It also declared that the slaves liberated by the act would be forever free, a disposition that caused considerable conservative backlash. The government may take the enemy’s property, “burn his cities, devastate his fields, deprive him of his life, all of which are great intrinsic evils, but it is said that we may not perform that intrinsically righteous act— emancipate his slaves,” complained one of the act’s supporters.

The act originally also included a measure that had potential for great change – the confiscation of real property. Republicans could agree that liberating slaves was not a bill of attainder, but moderates like Lincoln thought that no legislative act or military measure could take a person’s estate. The bill was amended to specify that the forfeiture of real estate by disloyal citizens would not extend beyond the person’s natural life, and authorized the President to restore property through pardons. Afterwards, Lincoln signed the bill. Basically, the Second Confiscation Act allowed the President to free all the slaves of disloyal owners through a military proclamation, and disposed the confiscation and emancipation of the slaves of rebels in areas where the courts were still operative, such as Maryland.

Henry Wilson​

These pieces of legislations are clear proof of the Administration's close and mutually beneficial relationship with the Radical Republicans. Despite his well-known moderate beliefs, many Radicals rejoiced as they saw that the President was coming closer to their side. "Mr. Lincoln," Stevens said, "has finally seen the light. He's now a wide-awake." Radical Republicanism has often been misunderstood, and this has led to misleading historical interpretations. Many portray the Civil War as the history of how Lincoln "evolved" and became a full-fledged Radical; others paint it as the tale of the wise Lincoln moderating these hot-headed Radicals in order to achieve real change. Neither interpretation is fully correct; one commits the fallacy of believing that there was always a predetermined end to Lincoln's growth, while the other sees him as a static figure that entered "the White House with a fixed determination to preside over the end of slavery and waiting for the northern public to catch up with him." This ignores the wider context under which Lincoln operated, and his own personal shortcomings. The truth is, both Lincoln and the Radicals influenced each others, and all of them were prey to events outside of their control, which shaped the next phase of the anti-slavery crusade and the ultimate destiny of the United States.

Thus, the moral arc of history, in this instance, bent towards justice. The circumstances of the time, such as the bitter failure of colonization and compensated emancipation, were one of the sources of the pressure that produced this bent. The Radical Republicans were the other great source. It is necessary, then, to fully comprehend their ideology and objectives. Radical Republicanism was, at its core, a form of political abolitionism, characterized by its moral sensibility and its, at times, single minded focus on slavery as the great challenge the American Republic would have to face. The Radical Republicans formed a much more cohesive group than their Moderate counterparts, being united by a common purpose and world-view. This enhanced their political influence, especially due to the uncertainty and fear created by the war. Ready to seize the initiative, the Radicals were seemingly the only Republicans with both a clear objective and a clear program to achieve them.

Radical Republicanism reflected, more than anything, the reformist spirit of many Northerners and their deep "commitment to reform the evils they saw in society". This "Yankee Puritanism" saw the government as an instrument for the enforcement of moral righteousness and firmly believed that "compromise with sin was itself a sin." Radicalism was born out of the religious revivals that swept the North in the 1830's, and as such it appealed mostly to the morality of the nation. However, this tactic was rather ineffective, and it would not be until the new conception of "political abolitionism" was developed that abolitionist became a coherent political movement. Salmon P. Chase, now Secretary of the Treasury, was the main architect of this new ideology, that focused not in moral appeals but in the threat of the Slave Power to the Constitution and the Northern way of life, a message that resonated much better with Northern voters who had no sympathy for the Negro but resented Southern dominance. Chase's invaluable contribution to the anti-slavery movement cannot be ignored, and when he passed away the New York Tribune would justly proclaim that "To Mr. Chase more than any other one man belongs the credit of making the anti-slavery feeling, what it had never been before, a power in politics."

Nonetheless, the main tenet of Radical Republicanism remained a firm belief that slavery was morally wrong. Radicals accepted arguments against the economic soundness of slavery, but for them the moral element always had to take precedence over other considerations. For example, the radical Joshua Giddings considered that opposition to slavery not fundamented on moral reasons was a "cold atheism", while James Russell Lowell believed that it was "in a moral aversion to slavery as a great wrong that the chief strength of the Republican party lies." Lowell's assertion was undoubtedly shared by the great mass of Radicals, men who put their ideology and their goals over their party and tradition. The result was that Radicals were not afraid to proclaim that they would simply bolt the party should the Republicans become too moderate, and since the Republicans could not rule without their support, they effectively became the political force that kept pushing the Republican Party to the left and prevented it from ever becoming a moderate movement built solely around Whiggish economic issues.

Joshua R. Giddings​

Anti-slavery propaganda was the Radical's main weapon. Characterized by Giddings as " the great and mighty instrument for carrying forward . . . reforms", political agitation was used by the Radicals as a way to influence public opinion. In the antebellum, they mostly focused on convincing people of the evils of slavery; in the midst of war, Radical agitation sought to push forward universal emancipation and, later, the acceptance of Black civil rights. Many moderates bitterly denounced the Radicals as irresponsible and incendiary, but rather than shaming them, the Radicals "readily admitted that they were political agitators; indeed, they were proud of the name." The anti-slavery agitation in which the Radicals engaged towards the end of 1861 has already been described at length in previous paragraphs. Suffice it to say that it was indeed very effective in pushing not just the Administration but the whole nation down the road of emancipation.

Radicalism, for the most part, had its home in New England and the areas of the North that had been settled by their Yankee immigrants. It was these "little New Englands", known by their high literacy, economic dynamism, and moralistic support for all kinds of reform movements from temperance to abolitionism, that provided the greatest support for the Republican party, which "from the moment of its birth, commanded overwhelming majorities" there. Whereas the Democratic Party and then the National Union had almost entire control of the great commercial cities, beyond them "wherever the New England people have sway, they came down like an avalanche" for the Republicans in all elections.

For a people that glorified free labor and saw the independent farmer and the respectable middle-class as "the only solid foundation of democratic government", the rural North was the true representative of American prosperity and democracy. This sometimes manifested in exaggerated contempt for the urban inhabitants of the Union, who were more moderate and willing to compromise than the people of the Northern countryside. These rural communities, "with their small towns and independent farmers", were centers "of Republican radicalism and heavy Republican electoral majorities." It was their support that guaranteed Lincoln's victory, and this meant that the opinions of the Radicals could not be merely disregarded as that of a few "ultras", but had to be considered as the will "of the mass of true and hearty Republicans."

Accordingly, the Radical leaders, with the notable exception of Stevens, "represented constituencies centered in New England and the belt of New England migration that stretched across the rural North." Many of them self-righteously declared that they were the only politicians guided by principles, but they were not entirely incorrect. Congressional Radicals ranged from the handsome and erudite, but egotistical and unlikeable Charles Sumner to the "perfect political brigand" Thaddeus Stevens, who exhibited a mix of idealism and pragmatism that led the young Clemenceau to declare him the "Robespierre of the Second American Revolution". United behind the goal of universal freedom, Radicals played a very important part in the developments that took place in the December session and would ultimately lead to a war for Union and Liberty.

Free Labor, for the Republicans, was not just an economic system, but the very model of a good society.​

Radical Republicanism has sometimes been interpreted as merely an expression of Northern capitalism. But in truth, the Radical were not united behind any coherent economic program. The divisions between Radicals and moderates were blurred in this regard, for all Republicans broadly supported a Whiggish program of economic interventionism that laid down a blueprint for national development. Measures of great popularity among the Northern people that had been stalled for decades by the South could finally be enacted thanks to the withdrawal of almost every Southern congressman. National Unionists continued this opposition, but the Republicans were easily able to overcome them and pass bills for the creation of a homestead program and the building of a transcontinental railroad.

The Homestead Act "never measured up to the starry-eyed vision of some enthusiasts" who wanted to "give every poor man a farm", but it, along with the transcontinental railroad, allowed thousands of families to settle millions of acres of Western land, contributing enormously to the economic expansion of the United States but also, sadly, increasing the suffering and injustice committed towards the Indian. These measures were supplemented with further laws that granted public land for the building of more infrastructure and of colleges that would teach "agriculture and the mechanic arts". The legislation, altogether, helped "to people a vast domain, sprinkle it with schools, and span it with steel rails."

Charles and Mary Beard concluded that this process was the true Second American Revolution, for it helped to fundamentally change the balance of power within the United States and laid down the "blueprint for modern America." Thus, the "planting aristocracy of the South" was driven away from power and "the capitalists, laborers, and farmers of the North and West" took the reigns and transformed the United States into a modern industrial nation that clearly followed the ideal of 19th century modernity. The Civil War, one can clearly see, changed the North as much as the South.

The Homestead Act paved the way for the settlement of the American West.​

The second session of the 37th Congress was one of the most active and important in American history. Aside from the enormous steps it took towards modernizing and industrializing the nation, the Congress managed through its actions to finally render “Freedom National, and slavery sectional” as Republicans had dreamed for so long. It also represented an enormous and significant turnabout at the Federal level, for now the government was actively working to undermine slavery. The session pushed forward the idea of emancipation, and contributed to a greater radicalization of the war. But it also caused a notable conservative backlash that would greatly distress Lincoln during the first months of 1862. Foreign diplomacy, McDowell’s next campaign, and how to deal with the reinvigorated National Union would keep Lincoln under constant pressure, as the war kept radicalizing.
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AN: One of the hardest things about writing a detailed TL like this is the fact that so much is going on at once. There are social, economic, political and military issues, and all take place in different theaters at different times. And of course, this is only the Union side. I will not sacrifice detail in favor of simplicity, but this does mean that I will sometimes have to left something to the side to explain another thing. Would you all prefer the next chapter to be about the conservative reaction and foreign diplomacy, or about McDowell's campaign?

 

[Red_Galiray]

The month of December 1860, was without a doubt one of the more consequential thus far. Aside from the radical policies that were born during the session of that month, and the military intrigues and maneuvering, Lincoln had to deal with foreign problems and a conservative reaction. In the first instance, John Bull seemed ready to join the war in the Confederate side, thus securing the end of the United States. As for the later, an old foe came back to haunt him: none other than Stephen A. Douglas, the Little Giant himself.

Douglas had pledged to support Lincoln in order to preserve the Union; he had never intended to support a Republican war for Abolitionist goals. Lincoln had been careful to keep the war from being seen as that, and thus did everything he could to rally support from the former Democrats, most of whom had now flocked to Douglas’ National Union and were now calling themselves “National Unionists”, “Continentals” (due to fighting for freedom) or “Chesnuts” (see below). Lincoln had commissioned National Unionists as commanders and tried to maintain the war as one for Union alone, but that was not enough, and both Douglas and he knew that it was quickly taking another different, more radical turn.

Douglas could not allow this. His rivalry with Lincoln had by then become legendary. Lincoln always mistrusted Douglas, and always suspected that the former Senator was secretly working to split the Republicans. For his part, Douglas recognized (privately) that Lincoln was “the most difficult and dangerous opponent that I have ever met.” They met for the first-time during Lincoln’s days at the Illinois State Legislature. Afterwards, Lincoln only won a term to Congress, where his only notable contribution was a speech against Polk and the Mexican War that earned him the scold of his constituents and the embarrassing nickname of “Spotty Lincoln” —which Douglas, of course, liked to use. For his part, Douglas went to the Senate and became a statesman of national reputation. Lincoln could not help but feel envious and bitter at times. “With me, the race of ambition has been a failure—a flat failure; with him [Douglas] it has been one of splendid success,” he said once, for instance.

Lincoln and Douglas faced each other for the first time after the debacle of Kansas-Nebraska had killed off the Whig Party and led to the rise of anti-Nebraska coalitions through the Union, including Illinois. Douglas feverishly toured the state, defending the bill; Lincoln followed him, attacking it. In one memorable occasion, Douglas gave a speech before the Legislature. When he had finished, Lincoln rose up from his chair and said that he would give a retort the next day, and invited Douglas to attend and defend himself if he so wished. The next day, Lincoln gave his response, Douglas sitting in the front row. At first, he had planned to not retort, but Lincoln’s remarks so incensed him that he shouted angry replies.

They would face each other in a proper debate in 1856. They held four debates in the 1856 campaign, and ultimately Frémont carried the state. It was then that Douglas stopped seeing Lincoln as a mere nuisance, and recognized him as a true opponent. As for Lincoln, he had often retorted to Douglas in his two years in the Senate, and his suspicions only increased. The Prairie Lawyer especially feared that the Republicans would abandon their ideals and join Douglas and his doctrine of popular sovereignty. When many Republicans portrayed the admission of Kansas a defeat of popular sovereignty instead of as a defeat of freedom, his fears increased. In the 1858 campaign, Lincoln did all he could to prevent Republicans like Horace Greeley from coming over to Douglas’ side. Some had even suggested that the Little Giant was going to join the Republicans, since the Lecompton disaster had destroyed the Democratic party in the North. Of course, at the end Douglas created his own party, but Lincoln still could not bring himself to trust him.

Stephen A. Douglas​

Their legendary eight debates in 1858 have gone down in history, and justly so, for both speakers brilliantly articulated their viewpoints. The difference between Lincoln and Douglas, between the Republican Party and the National Union, became clear: Douglas did not recognize any moral element in politics, and he and his men disregarded the basic humanity of the Negro. Though far from perfect when seen with modern lenses, Lincoln and his Party always upheld the rights of Black Americans, and saw slavery as a moral problem that had to be confronted and resolved. At the end, Lincoln defeated Douglas, who lost his Senate seat. This, no doubt, gave him great satisfaction. It is remarkable that Douglas often praised Lincoln’s intelligence and character at the start of the debates, but Lincoln could never bring himself to compliment Douglas back.

Douglas’ defeat sobered him –in more ways than one. A heavy drinker, Douglas somewhat moderated his abuse of alcohol. Not completely, of course, but it probably saved his life. He did not abandon politics, but continued to tour the West. In an ironic reversal that greatly embittered him, Douglas was now the one following Lincoln and offering replies to his speeches. The National Union had not taken flight as he had hoped. Many Northern Democrats remained loyal to Buchanan and the South, the so called “Danites.” Some of them had allied with Lincoln, even receiving funding from him, all to weaken Douglas. The fact that they preferred the election of a Republican to the reelection of Douglas is a testament to how virulently both groups hated each other. Douglas’ last-ditch effort to reunite the party, and his even more desperate attempt to win the Presidency in 1860, all failed due to the legacy of hate that Lecompton sowed.

But now circumstances had changed. Even among the Negrophobic “Butternuts” of the southernmost counties of the Northwest (many of them descended from Southern settlers), there was little support for treason and rebellion. The anemic National Union returned like a mighty Phoenix, absorbing what remained of the Northern Democracy, and also, worryingly enough, the Unionists of the Border South. Though Douglas was not in Congress to direct it personally, he had enough allies to know everything that was going on. After the burning of Washington, Douglas had travelled to Philadelphia and met with Lincoln, giving his famous declaration that there only were patriots and traitors now. As a good patriot, he pledged to support the war. And also as a good patriot, he stayed in Philadelphia to ensure that it would be a Constitutional, limited war, for he earnestly believed that the Radicals were as dangerous as the rebels.

The National Union thus took shape as an effective political force towards the end of 1861. Its influence was limited thanks to the overwhelming Republican majorities in the Senate and the House. But they could make their voices heard – and they were often very loud. The return of his opponent to politics, after he had believed him defeated, obviously distressed Lincoln. The Chesnuts also had an oversized representation in the Armed forces. Two out of every five soldiers were Chesnuts who loathed the mere idea of a war for abolition, but beyond them there were many influential officers who shared their idea of how the conflict should be conducted. Among them was George B. McClellan, who took a central role in the political maneuvers that took place within the Army of the Susquehanna during those months of winter.

The favorite weapons of the Douglasites remained the same as those used since 1850 at least: appeal to prejudice and negrophobia. They also charged that Lincoln and the Republicans were tyrants hell-bent on “subjugating the free American race just to satisfy their bloody fanaticism.” The National Unionists attacked the Lincoln administration for being engaged “in a radical and unholy crusade” that would bring “pestilence, famine, fratricide, and the death of American liberty” if they were allowed to continue. Lincoln himself was portrayed as a “vulgar and unprepared prairie lawyer . . . the fool of the court, who only speaks in riddles . . . a professional backstabber . . . the greatest friend of the Negro, and the vilest foe of the White man.”

The Radical Republicans, who had gained the nickname of Jacobins, received scathing criticism. “We will not fight to liberate the Negro”, a Chesnut meeting resolved, “our motto will be Freedom to the White Man, and the White Man only.” A newspaper printed a call to action that soon became the rallying message of the National Union. “Against traitors who seek to destroy the nation and radicals who want to tear apart the Constitution, we say: The Union as it was! The Constitution as it is!” Soon enough, in response to the radical actions of the session of December, they added another stanza: “And the Niggers where they are!”

Using another French reference, a young reporter referred to Lincoln as a “Robespierre” and Douglas as a “Danton.” He took that back when a reader informed him that Danton had lost. In any case, Republicans were inspired by the French revolution when it came to nicknaming their opponents. Just like the original Jacobins took their nickname from the place where they met, the National Unionist would be nicknamed after a place. In this case, the name “Chesnuts” became popular, after the affluent Philadelphia neighborhood where Douglas had rented a house. Magnified by Republicans into a “center of sedition”, a “second Richmond” from which Douglas coordinated the opposition, Chesnut was indeed the home of some old-line conservatives who disagreed with the government’s policies.

An example of Chesnut propaganda​

The nickname of Chesnuts quickly spread. One reason was because it sounded similar to “Butternut”, the name of the poor yeomen who populated the border areas of the Northwest. Described contemptuously by a Republican as “the perfect example of prejudiced White Trash”, the Butternuts were on average poorer and less educated than the Northern median. They had also been solidly Democratic in allegiance, and after the split of Lecompton they became firm Douglas men. A congressman said that National Unionists were strongest “in the areas where educated men receive scorn and where labor is seen as a degraded practice”, contrasting it with the centers of Radical Republicanism, which usually were populated by New Englanders and were known for their “intelligence and enterprise.”

The extremely strong prejudice of these Northwestern men has resulted puzzling. The area was generally known for its high degree of egalitarianism and opportunity, yet it showed the greatest Negrophobia, something the Chesnuts took advantage of. Eric Foner posits the theory that higher economic mobility alarmed White settlers, many of them of Southern origin, and as a result they found it necessary to deny legal equality to African-Americans. In New England, on the other hand, Blacks could be equal under the law because they represented no threat towards the social system already in place – despite their legal equality, they could never be socially equal. It also seems that White settlers found competition with Black laborers to be degrading, and that they firmly believed that the land of the West and its resources were for Whites only.

Consequently, Chesnut propaganda had great effect in the region. The main line of attack was similar to the rhetoric they had used in 1856 during the President election and 1858 during the debates against Lincoln: abolition would cause millions of freedmen to migrate to the Northwest. “The armies of abolition,” a National Unionist speaker said, “are ready to drive you off your land and invite their thick-lipped and bullet-headed Negro friends to take over your property and to vote alongside you.” Another called on men to “protect your sisters, sweethearts, and daughters! While our gallant soldiers lay down their lives on the altar of freedom, fanatical Black Republican preachers mount an invasion of their own, seeking to sacrifice our women to the hellish lust of the Negro.”

The conservative reaction should not be interpreted as a result of the National Union’s activities. Rather, the reinvigoration of Douglas’s party is a result of this conservative reaction. Nonetheless, the Douglasites and the Danites were not able to fully bury the hatchet on some occasions, and the ghost of Lecompton still haunted the fragile coalition. New York, at least, became a volatile center of agitation because the Buchanan administration and the Democratic split had destroyed the Party machine that had previously controlled the city. Sewardites, anti-Seward Republicans, Danites, and Chesnuts all competed for control, creating a powder-keg of racial tensions, nativist prejudices, and working-class discontent.

New York during the Civil War.​

Especially worrying were some seeds of anti-war agitation that would later germinate and transform the National Union into a peace party. For the moment, most Chesnuts still supported the war. As Douglas said “war is the quickest path towards peace”. However, as casualties increased and the war prolonged seemingly without the administration taking action to actually win it, more and more Chesnuts started to feel alienated. A point of contention was the National Union’s belief that the Army served as “the instrument of Lincolnite tyranny.”

This last accusation is due to Lincoln’s controversial actions in Maryland. Even after the Battle of Baltimore, Butler’s heavy-handed rule over the city earned harsh criticism. Though he did not use Black soldiers per the administration’s wishes, he did employ thousands of contrabands reconstructing the city and helping around in army camps. The White resident of Baltimore chaffed at being place under “Nigger rule”, and defied Butler and the Army, raising the Confederate flag, insulting Northern soldiers, or even attacking them physically. It did not help matters that Baltimore had become a destination for fugitive slaves. Butler responded with punitive measures. In one infamous occasion, Union soldiers broke down the door of a private home to take down the Confederate flags the owner had. The Confederate sympathizer (who did not fight in the rebel ranks as it has been rumored) and his neighbors resisted violently, and in the resulting brawl he lost his life.

The image of Union soldiers breaking into people’s homes and murdering them to “satisfy their wishes of vengeance and their brutal abolitionism” was a strong propaganda coup that greatly favored the National Unionists. “The people of the South are not our enemies, but our compatriots. They are not a conquered people, to be treated with an iron hand, but citizens of our common nation, and they must be treated as such”, trumpeted Chesnut editorials. By portraying the war as a Republican crusade for abolitionism and vengeance, the National Union was able to drain support from the administration, but also, sometimes unwittingly, from the war itself.

Another Chesnut favorite was charging that Lincoln was “shredding the Constitution before the nation’s eyes” with his suspension of habeas corpus. Seward worsened the situation somewhat. Tasked with maintaining order and ensuring domestic security, probably because Lincoln distrusted Cameron, the Secretary of State had organized a corps of specialized agents “whose zeal to ferret out treason brooked no restraint by rules of evidence”. The image of Seward sending people to Fort Lafayette for offenses as small as calling him a humbug was also spread far and wide. After Stanton took over, the situation relaxed slightly, but National Unionists still characterized the state of things as a “reign of lawless despotism.”

Clement L. Vallandigham​

Some Chesnuts had already started to openly talk against the war, though their influence was limited. Clement L. Vallandigham, who had lost his House seat in the 1858 Republican wave, returned stronger than ever as a speaker for peace. “This cruel war is nothing else but the Trojan horse of Tyranny”, he thundered. Others agreed with him, saying that “anything is better than a fruitless, hopeless, unnatural civil war.” For the moment these peace men, who would later acquire the name of “copperheads”, were small in number, but they threatened to take a more important role within the Party.

Finally, the National Union also demanded to have a voice in Army affairs. Following the fiasco of the Quaker Guns, Congress created a Joint Committee on the Conduct of War. Dominated by Republicans and decried as a “Jacobin committee” hell-bent on applying the guillotine to any Chesnut general, the Committee became a “powerful engine of criticism not merely of the generals but of their commander-in-chief.”

The unwavering opposition of the National Unionists forced Republicans to close ranks and work together. Personal and factional conflicts threatened to break apart their own coalition in many occasions. Few Republicans were as hostile as Senator Ben Wade, who refused to attend a White House gala because “the Wades, unlike the Lincolns, are aware that we are in a state of civil war, and thus refuse to fête.” But there was a large section of Republicans who wished the Lincoln administration were more energetic in its pursuit of the war, of abolition, or of both.

Nevertheless, the Republicans remained united for the most part. Since the great majority of Northern state governments were Republicans, and the Party had great majorities in both chambers of Congress, Republicans felt it necessary to present a united front to pursuit the war effectively. Two factors helped along: for one, since Lincoln was just 0.2% shy of an outright majority in 1860, Republicans felt like they had a mandate; second, the fact that Douglas led the opposition in such a systematically obstructive way made the Republicans band together because otherwise nothing could be accomplished at all.

Lincoln himself felt that it was “mere nonsense to suppose a minority could rule over the majority.” He was not going to purposely alienate conservatives, and it’s already been described how he tried to court the loyalty and support of former Democrats and Chesnuts. Nonetheless, Lincoln remained a firm Party man, and as such he could invoke party loyalty or patronage to gain support for the administration’s policies. Having won almost 60% of the total Northern vote, Lincoln felt justified in his actions, and it probably reduced his qualms about moving towards the left.

In any case, the National Union remained weak during the last months of 1861 and the first months of 1862. But it could easily grow into a great threat, that could realistically stop the wheels of government and hinder the progress of the war. By marshalling all the opponents of the government into a united front, Douglas created a vehicle of anti-war and anti-Negro agitation that would prove itself to be a formidable opponent of the Lincoln administration.

Benjamin Wade​

Another formidable opponent came not from within, but from without: the United Kingdom. To characterize the British as merely foes of the United States during the Civil War would be disingenuous and inaccurate, but the British were not exactly allies. The British government was often willing to entertain Confederate hopes for recognition and turn a blind eye to their propaganda and efforts to purchase arms and commission ships, thus earning the hostility of the Union. The first of these perceived insults was the British declaration of neutrality.

Issued by Queen Victoria, the proclamation resulted so insulting to the Americans because it implicitly recognized the Confederate States as a belligerent power. Under international law, that gave the Confederates the right “to contract loans and purchase arms in neutral nations, and to commission cruisers on the high seas with the power of search and seizure.”

Bitter recriminations followed. The Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Charles Sumner, whom Lincoln often consulted on matters of foreign diplomacy, declared it "the most hateful act of English history since Charles 2nd." The American minister to London, Charles Francis Adams, was more diplomatic when he told Lord Russell, British Secretary of Foreign Affairs, that the American government inferred from the proclamation of neutrality “an intention more or less marked to extend the struggle” between the North and South, and if that were the case, he was bound “to acknowledge in all frankness that I have nothing further left to do in Great Britain.”

Russell, however, answered that the "the question of belligerent rights is one, not of principle, but of fact." In response to another demand by Adams, Russell also said that the British government could not make “a perpetual pledge that we would, under no circumstances, recognize the seceding State. . . . Great Britain must hold herself free to act according to the progress of events and as circumstances might require.” Even if the Union wanted to ignore it, the Confederacy was an actual government with effective control of an army, a navy, and a population. Declarations such as this raised Confederate hopes for recognition and intervention. Lord Russell seemed to encourage them, for he met with Confederate agents on at least two occasions. The Richmond Enquirer said that those meetings constituted "a long and firm [step] in exactly the direction which the people of the Southern States expected,” while John Breckinridge was pleased that “our British friends don’t fall for the monstrous Yankee pretension.”

The possibility of British intervention seemed very real now. Seward reluctantly recognized that “on our part the possibility of foreign intervention, sooner or later, in this domestic disturbance is never absent from the thoughts of this government.” Lincoln has long been portrayed as man who largely deferred to Seward when it came to foreign policy, but he also took an active part in shaping the administration’s response to the threat of British intervention. He sent a memo to Adams saying that “as to the recognition of the so-called Southern Confederacy... [it will not] pass unquestioned by the United States in this case”, and added that Adams should break off diplomatic relations if the British insisted on meeting with “the domestic enemies of this country.”

Charles Francis Adams​

Seward was more bellicose. Declaring that he’d “give them hell”, he sent a note saying that if Britain recognized the Confederacy "we from that hour, shall cease to be friends and become once more, as we have twice before been forced to be, enemies of Great Britain." The astute Adams softened the message. The son and grandson of previous ministers to Britain, Adams had a reserved personality well-suited to British tastes, for the Britons stereotyped the Americans as vulgar and arrogant. Lord Russell and Adams respected each other, and Adams’s more diplomatic approach seemed to work better. Russell assured the American minister that he wouldn’t met anymore with the Confederates, and that the declaration of neutrality had the only goal of explaining “to British subjects their liabilities in case they should engage in war.”

More than the personalities of Adams and Russell were involved when it came to foreign diplomacy, however. A British MP had advised the Americans that “there is one way to convert us all–Win the battles, and we shall come round at once.” The initial Confederate successes probably convinced many Britons that the Southern Republic would be successful in its pursuit of independence. Believing that “the laws of nature dictate that any effort to subjugate millions of peoples united behind the same goal will be fruitless”, British diplomats and government officials thought a Union victory impossible. The capture of Washington and the months of Union inactivity (mistaken for impotence) that followed helped to reinforce this view.

Later, however, the Union achieved an important victory at Baltimore and minor triumphs in North Carolina. It’s unlikely that these victories were enough to convince the British – after all, Washington remained in enemy hands. But it probably made them think that the war would indeed be a long one, and thus they decided to withhold their judgement for now. Prime Minister Lord Palmerston was unwilling to interfere, saying that "they who in quarrels interpose, will often get a bloody nose." Regarding intervention as contrary to British interests, he declared that their only policy was "to go on as we have begun, and to keep quite clear of the conflict."

Still, some Britons were open to future recognition of the Confederacy, even if Old Pam was unwilling to actually go to war. The fact that they could not promise not to interfere infuriated the Americans. The British, for their part, were miffed by Seward’s “bullying”, which they regarded as “insolent.” But they were also angered by the “blackmail” that the Southern cotton embargo constituted.

The Confederate government never embargoed cotton, and Breckinridge in fact opposed the measure. Having visited England several times, Breckinridge concluded that such an embargo was more likely to gather the ire of John Bull rather than his good-will. Nonetheless, many Southerners earnestly believed that Britain would bend its knee if they kept the cotton from their markets. "Keep every bale of cotton on the plantation. Don't send a thread to New Orleans or Memphis till England and France have recognized the Confederacy—not one thread," demanded the Memphis Argus. Public opinion in this regard was so strong that the blockade “practically enforced itself.” Breckinridge did take measures to reduce the impact – he bought cotton with government credit and chartered blockade runners to get it to Europe. The measure, however, was not very successful, only managing to cause a negative reaction from his own opposition.

It also made the blockade appear stronger than it really was during the first year of the war. British and French businessmen demanded intervention. "England must break the Blockade, or Her Millions will starve," argued a newspaper. Unfortunately for the Southerners, King Cotton wasn’t as powerful as they thought, and Lord Russell would say that to intervene just for cotton "would be ignominious beyond measure. . . . No English Parliament could do so base a thing." He later clarified the Brtish position in regards to the blockade, stating that "The fact that various ships may have successfully escaped through it . . . will not of itself prevent the blockade from being an effective one by international law" so long as it was enforced by a number of ships "sufficient really to prevent access to [a port] or to create an evident danger of entering or leaving it." King Cotton diplomacy had failed, and soon enough Southerners focused on getting all the cotton they could to Europe, though as Breckinridge bitterly observed “the hour for that has long passed. The blockade is now stronger than ever.”

Lord John Russell​

The greatest crisis of Anglo-American relations was yet to come. After hearing that Breckinridge was sending Confederate agents to Canada, an American Army patrol decided to intervene, vowing to “make John Breck suffer for treason, and John Bull for intervention.” These were not only delusions – Breckinridge was truly sending agents to Canada to help the men who opposed Lincoln with arms and money. He was an avid reader of Northern newspapers, and the reports of the conservative reaction obviously interested him because it had potential to wreck the prosecution of the war. The Confederate agents did not meet much success, mostly because the anti-war movement was yet to gain strength. But it stoked the flame of anti-British and anti-Confederate sentiments.

The group of American soldiers crossed the frontier with Canada in September and took the supposed agents. Later, they would realize than aside from one real Confederate agent they also kidnapped a Canadian citizen. They quickly handed their captives over to Federal authorities, asking them “to be treated as traitors should”. The alarmed Lincoln administration quickly arrested the men, indicting them for violating the Neutrality Act. But the damage was already done.

While some Americans celebrated “taking John Bull by the horns” and threatened “to take the British territories as a punishment for aiding treason”, the British Ministry was furious. “You may stand for this but damned if I will!”, declared Old Pam. Britain seemed ready for war, as troops were mobilized towards Canada, ships were being readied, and an ultimatum was sent. The “American invasion”, a British corresponds told Senator Sumner, was “the maddest act that ever was done, and, unless the [United States] government intend to force us to war, utterly inconceivable.” The British demanded the release of the prisoners, whether they were Canadian or Confederate, a formal apology from the United States, and for all armed patrols to be removed from the Canadian border.

Lincoln believed that the Union could not win if Britain intervened. He wanted to engage in “one war at the time.” As such, he maintained “that the question was easily susceptible of a peaceful solution if England was at all disposed to act justly with us.” But the British public demanded a quick and sincere apology. Thurlow Weed, acting as an unofficial American agent, said that “if the taking of the rebels from under the protection of the British flag was intended, and is avowed, and maintained, it means war.” Jubilant rebels were looking forward to the British “clearing the sea of the American navy in a month; acknowledging the Southern Confederacy; and, by breaking the blockade, letting out cotton, and letting in British manufactures.”

Lincoln and the Cabinet regretfully came to the conclusion that they had no election but to submit to British demands, even if it caused the people to believe that they were “timidly truckling to the power of England.” After hours of discussion, the Cabinet resigned itself and approved to liberate the captured Confederates; issue a proclamation saying that they were not operating under the order of the American government and that they would be “prosecuted for their transgressions against the laws of nations”; and give a formal apology to Britain.

Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston​

British diplomats, who were happy not to interfere “if the present dispute were settled amicably”, accepted the apology, and war was averted. But this “surrender” still represented a humiliation. Fortunately for Lincoln, the people were relieved by the news that there wouldn’t be a war with Britain – George Templeton Strong observed that the settlement was necessary “for the sake of concentrating all our national energies on the trampling out of domestic treason.”

Though war had been averted, the whole episode greatly damaged Anglo-American relations and led to a legacy of bitterness that would continue for many years after the civil war. This surrender to the Union’s foreign foes also provided ammunition to its domestic foes, as the Douglasites were able to portray the administration as weak, indecisive and “a disgrace to the national honor.” Moreover, it also encouraged the rebels – Russell had at least another informal reunion with Confederate agents, while an impotent Adams was unable to carry out his threat of breaking off diplomatic relations in fear of worsening the already delicate situation. As a whole, months of military inaction, political struggles and foreign problems had greatly weakened the government. The victories of Grant in the West restored some enthusiasm to the people and honor to the government, but as a whole it was clear that a big victory in the East was necessary for the administration to be truly secure. Whether McDowell could rise up to the occasion remained to be seen.
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AN: I think this is the longest update thus far. I just wanted to be through, and I really wanted to include both these subjects in the same update. Now we can go back to military affairs. By the way, I don't want to shy away from the horrors of war or the nasty rhetoric of the age. Just remember, those are not my words. Some are quotes taken from my sources; others are supposed to be quotes from the characters within the TL, and as such do not reflect my own personal views. But I don't want to sugarcoat the racism of the Civil War, and will consequently add phrases that may result shocking to some.

 

[Red_Galiray]

Despite the difficult winter, 1862 seemed to be a bright year for the Union cause. The news of Grant’s great victory over Forts Henry and Donelson had raised Union morale. Everyone believed that a final push was all that was needed for the Confederates to be driven out of Washington. Afterwards, “it’s just a question of marching and licking the rebels”, as an overconfident soldier said. Many recognized that the war would not be over even if McDowell’s campaign succeeded beyond their greatest expectations. But a “sanguine trust in victory” had taken hold of the people. Singing battle songs and cheering, McDowell’s troops marched forward in January 30th, hoping to equal and surpass Grant’s achievements in the west.

On the Confederate side, gloom and despair seemed to rule the day. Breckinridge, known for his oratory, tried to rally his people. Before a Richmond crowd, he talked of the gallant Southern soldiers and his trust in eventual victory. A man shouted then: “Liar! The truth will prevail!” “The truth will prevail,” Breckinridge agreed, “You may smother it for a time beneath the passions and prejudices of men, but those passions and prejudices will subside; and the truth will reappear as the rock reappears above the receding tide. I believe this cruel war will end, and our Confederacy will walk by the light of the sacred principles upon which she was founded. Bright and fixed, as the rock-built lighthouse in the stormy sea, they will abide, a perpetual beacon, to attract the political mariner to the harbor of liberty and peace."

But privately, Breckinridge was also expressing doubts about the future of his Confederacy. In many ways, Breckinridge led a life similar to Lincoln’s, but in each crucial crossroads they had chosen opposite paths. Both came from immigrant families that sought Virginia for a new life, and later migrated to the bluegrass of Kentucky. But while Lincoln felt disinterested on and perhaps a little shamed for the history of his plebian family, Breckinridge was proud to come from a legacy of important men. Lincoln’s father had led Kentucky for Indiana, and later Lincoln himself made a life for himself in Illinois. Breckinridge’s family remained one of Kentucky’s most important ones, and though he also lived for some time in Iowa, Breckinridge eventually returned home. Lincoln was largely a self-made man who gravitated towards the Whigs; Breckinridge had the help of his family, and he was a “glorious Democrat.”

Lincoln achieved relatively scarce success before his nomination as a dark-horse. Breckinridge was a very prominent Democrat, and his nomination was assured from the start. Lastly, Lincoln had chosen to fight for the Union, while Breckinridge chose to side with the South, with rebellion, and slavery. The choice was a painful one, and like with many other Confederates, Breckinridge was ultimately compelled due to personal honor and a sense of duty.

He did not believe secession to be justified, but sincerely thought that states had a right to secede because “the election of a foe to a state’s rights ends the Federative system; all the delegated powers revert.” He was a true moderate, and he fervently wanted to preserve the Union. Just like many Northern moderates voted for Lincoln because there was no better option, many Southern fire-eaters voted for Breckinridge because he was the only option. Though Breckinridge was the candidate of the South, he was not the candidate of the Slavocrats.

Just like moderates had accused him of being a secessionist previous to the actual secession crisis, Southerners accused Breckinridge of being a free-soiler who did not care about protecting slavery. Many were having second thought about his election as the President of the Confederate States. His expertise, fame, moderation, and popularity were the main reasons behind his nomination and eventual victory. But it seemed that he had outlived his usefulness. Most of the Upper South was in the Confederacy, while the Border States were contested. A far cry from the promise that Breckinridge secured them for the Confederacy. Likewise, many were alienated over his handling of the war.

Breckenridge remained clean shaved before the war. After it started, he grew an impressive mustache. Here he's depicted in a Confederate general's uniform.​

Like Lincoln, Breckinridge had to face a staunch opposition. Some even whispered that a challenge should be mounted for the elections of November 1861. None did, and at the end those elections only ratified Breckinridge’s position, which officially changed from provisional president to a regular one. Breckinridge’s position was not altogether disastrous. There were still high hopes on the diplomatic front, and the Confederate economy seemed to hold just fine for the moment. But nothing would matter if McDowell’s campaign was successful.

The “Western disaster” had caused “the President to lose the confidence of the country,” declared a newspaper. Many were doubtful that the young man, who didn’t even come from a state under effective Confederate control, could meet the challenge. Thomas Bragg noted that Breckinridge “seems a good deal depressed—and though he holds up bravely, it is but too evident that he is greatly troubled.”

Breckinridge was, luckily for the Confederacy, a man of administrative talent who was able to endure long work-hours and harsh criticism for the cause. His greatest sin was his love of the bottle, but he was mostly able to set it aside. He unhealthily worked until he was completely exhausted, then would sleep for long hours until some important affair demanded his attention. If left unchecked, he could sleep entire days.

When it came to criticism, he said to “the venomous men who attack me – pour on, I can endure.” Despite the lack of arms and food, Breckinridge did his best to supply the troops, who in turn started to gain affection for “Johnny Breck.” A charismatic man, Breckinridge was adept when it came to balancing the inflated egos of many Confederate politicians and military men, but he was not afraid to replace incapable officials, such as Lucius B. Northrop, though that action wounded the sensibilities of Secretary of War Jefferson Davis.

Breckinridge’s relation with Davis, not always the easiest man to get along with, is perhaps proof of his talents as a statesman. Davis was proud, humorless, and stubborn, though he also could be attentive and cordial. He did not suffer fools gladly, and lacked the tact to hide this. “In his manner and language there was just an indescribable something which offended their self-esteem and left their judgments room to find fault with him,” commented Secretary of the Navy Mallory. But Davis was also capable, and he formed a friendship with Breckinridge based on mutual respect. Similarly to Lincoln and Stanton, Davis often was tasked with rejecting the demands of politicians and generals, thus saving Breckinridge from their animosity.

Breckinridge’s trust on his generals was not as unwavering. He was really disappointed with the cautious Joe Johnston, and though he liked Beauregard better, he also had his doubts. When Albert Sydney Johnston offered to resign over his failures, Breckinridge almost accepted, but decided against it in part thanks to Davis, who told the President that “if Sidney Johnston is not a general, we had better give up the war, for we have no general.” Davis was not willing to come out to defend the other Johnston and Beauregard, and the tensions between the “triumvirate of petticoats” only served to harm the Confederate cause.

Nonetheless, just like Lincoln was developing a strategy to win the war, Breckinridge also started to rethink his own plans. Together with Secretary Davis, he concluded that it was a mistake “to attempt to defend all of the frontier, seaboard and inland.” Instead, the Confederate army would be concentrated in strategic points, the two most important theaters being, of course, Maryland and the Mississippi. Though he acknowledged that it “brings great pain to me and the country”, Breckinridge also decided that retaking Kentucky would not be a priority until “the perfidious invader is expulsed from the vital regions of the Confederacy.” He also listened attentively to the demands for action. “The people demand an advance into the enemy’s territory. Will the voice of the people again be denied?”, asked the Richmond Enquirer.

The offensive-defensive strategy having finally crystallized into a rational doctrine, Breckinridge started to look for generals who could apply it and achieve victories. He found two officials, both from Virginia. One was a promising man, who he decided to send to North Carolina. The other had seemed to be promising, but he had failed thus far; nonetheless, Breckinridge still saw talent within him. The President, however, did not call Longstreet and Lee to Richmond yet, but he kept his eyes over them, should he need to replace Johnston and Beauregard.

The pressing issue was how to meet McDowell’s advance. Happily for Breckinridge, the Confederate Congress had followed its Union counterpart and required three-year enlistments. Otherwise, the army may have melted away. But the rebels still desperately needed men and arms. Breckinridge appealed for those resources from the states “to meet the vast accumulation of the enemy before him.” At one point, he even accepted the knives and pickets offered by Governor Brown of Georgia.

Louis Wigfall​

These shortcomings probably resulted in Breckinridge changing his personal convictions. He had always been a friend of internal improvements and reform, rare opinions for a Southern Democrat. But he also believed in small government and states rights. However, he started to believe that a powerful central government would be necessary if the Confederacy wanted to survive, paradoxical as that may be. Donning “the mantle of Hamilton to achieve the goals of Jefferson”, Breckinridge became the leader of a Confederate faction that supported measures such as conscription and the suspension of habeas corpus.

This last point was very contemptuous. Breckinridge had denounced Lincoln’s actions "to impair personal liberty or the freedom of speech, of thought, or of the press" by throwing people in “vile Bastilles.” But the actions of Unionist partisans in Eastern Tennessee and Texas had forced Breckinridge to throw people into Southern Bastilles as well. Worried about Unionist spies and other potential dangers to the defense of Maryland, Breckinridge suspended the writ of habeas corpus on his own authority, much like Lincoln did.

Just like in that case, there were grumblings about “military despotism” and how “it’s impossible to retain our cherished liberty if our President acts like the Philadelphia tyrant.” Breckinridge dismissed these complains, and although Congress tried to assert its authority, Breckinridge successfully convinced them that the suspension of habeas corpus was a “necessary measure to preserve the security and liberty of our country.” Fiery debate followed, until the imposing Texas Senator Louis Wigfall demanded retroactive approval of Breckinridge’s actions. “No man has any individual rights, which come into conflict with the welfare of the country,” Wigfall thundered. It was the beginning of a close relation with the administration, but also the birth of antagonistic political parties within the Confederacy.

Breckinridge, thus, also took the necessary political and military maneuvers to be ready for the next battle. As winter gave way to spring, he realized that the hour for that battle was fast coming. He accompanied Davis, who went through a religious revival as a result of the war, to Church. Breckinridge highly respected the Lord and the Church, but he was not a devout follower. Nevertheless, he prayed for victory.

On January 30th, McDowell and the Army of the Susquehanna set forth in the campaign. Their objective was Sweetser’s Bridge, near Baltimore. After Beauregard’s main force was distracted, McClellan would break out of Annapolis, forcing the rebels there to either retreat to Washington or join Beauregard, who would be trapped between McDowell’s and McClellan’s forces. If successful, the campaign would be a deadly blow to the rebellion.

Beauregard’s scouts reported the movement just hours after it had started. One of the few advantages the rebels possessed was a superior cavalry. While Union cavalry was divided in small regiments assigned to each unit, Confederate cavalry was consolidated into a unique division that was tasked with reconnaissance and protecting the flanks of the armies. They also possessed great human talent, most Southrons being able to ride better than the urban Yankees could.

The leader of the cavalry corps was the best example of this superiority. Jeb Stuart was a gifted leader with the airs of a dashing cavalier. Clad in a shining uniform with knee-high boots and a hat with an ostrich feather, Stuart craved fame and martial glory despite his young age of 28 years. Breckinridge, whose competence was similarly questioned due to his youth, took a liking to Stuart. While most rebels were probably apprentice about facing the enemy once again, Stuart and his troopers were eager.

Johnston and Beauregard formed an informal war council to discuss the course of action. “The Bold Beauregard”, as friendly press called him, wanted to seize the initiative and cross Ellicott’s Mills. Though risky, the action could potentially force McDowell to go back to stop the enemy from invading his territory. But the cautious Johnston was not convinced by the proposal. At the end, and after some considerable bickering, both Generals decided to simply defend until McDowell’s purpose became apparent. Their greatest fear was what McClellan could do, since he would be in their rear if he managed to break out of Annapolis.

Stonewall Jackson was tasked with stopping McDowell’s advance. A harsh disciplinarian who pushed his men as hard as he pushed himself, Jackson was also a very eccentric man. A religious fanatic who believed Yankees were the devil, Jackson was humorless and secretive. “His rule of strategy—"always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy"—seemed to apply to his own officers as well”, comments historian James M. McPherson. Some of his own soldiers doubted that “Old Tom Fool” could beat back the Northerners, but he proved them wrong.

Jackson contested the crossing as he was ordered, his greybacks fighting against the bluecoats valiantly. Both sides were rather sluggish in their actions at first, but eventually the Union troops started to gain enthusiasm. The edge of their attack was blunted by Jackson’s effective defense, but the Federals had a greater number of men. McDowell, however, was reluctant to commit them all to the battle until the crossing was successful. The choice was not irrational – built in a marshy area with heavy forests, the bridge was thin, and thus sending the entire force at once would not help, but cause confusion and bottlenecks. McDowell, nonetheless, can be faulted for fixating on taking the bridge, instead of fording the Patapsco elsewhere.

James Ewell Brown "Jeb" Stuart​

In any case, it seemed like the rebels would soon be forced back. Another part of the Army of the Susquehanna was further to the west, pinning down the other half of Beauregard’s force. But the burning question was one: what was McClellan doing? Indeed, though McDowell had provided a diversion, the troops at Annapolis hadn’t moved yet to escape their “corking.” The reason McClellan gave was the “overwhelming numerical superiority of the foe.”

This kind of wild exaggeration of the enemy’s strength became a consistent flaw in McClellan’s generalship. Some have blamed the head of his intelligence service, Allan Pinkerton, who often assumed that Confederate regiments were all in the same place at full strength, which obviously never happened. But McClellan’s own timidity and fear of failure also played a part. In this particular case, rebel wits also served to stall him. John B. Magruder, left with only 15,000 men to face McClellan’s 25,000, decided to stage a theater show. He had his soldiers march in circles and loudly move artillery cannons, giving the impression that he had a much larger force. McClellan took the bait, and refused to move until he could be assured that he had greater numbers than the rebels.

A distraught McDowell agreed to send some 5,000 soldiers more to McClellan, bringing his force down to 60,000, of whom half were engaged with Jackson’s 25,000 and the other half were pinning Beauregard’s 30,000 down. Dissatisfied with his inability to make McClellan act, McDowell decided to take the initiative again. But the Federal and rebel forces were almost completely equal now, and Jackson still resisted admirably. Decided to breakthrough no matter what, McDowell recalled most of the force at Ellicott’s Mills, to attack again at early the next day. The result was that Beauregard actually outnumbered the Federals there.

During the night, Jackson conferred with Beauregard. Jackson proposed a bold plan that seemed crazy, but promised a great victory if executed correctly. Believing that McClellan was bound to see through Magruder’s theatrics eventually, and that Jackson would be unable to resist much longer at the bridge, Beauregard approved the plan. Knowing that Johnston would not agree to it, he hid it from his General in-chief.

In the middle of the night, Beauregard quietly sent fresh troops towards the bridge, while Jackson and his men moved towards Ellicott’s Mills. For Jackson’s tired men, the forced march was torture, but their commander had no tolerance for human weakness. The men slept for a few hours, while the better rested Federals woke up, ready to finish the rebels. They were surprised when instead of Jackson’s equally tired Southerners, they found Beauregard’s fresh brigades. McDowell had lured Beauregard and his reinforcements out of Ellicott’s Mills, but there were no Federals there to advance and attack his flank. There weren’t any Federals to keep an eye on Jackson either.

While McDowell and Beauregard faced each other for the second time, Jackson’s Brigade, guided by a Confederate Marylander, crossed Ellicott’s Mills. After a daring forced march, these men suddenly appeared on McDowell’s right flank. At first it seemed like they were going to the village of Catonsville. McDowell detached 20,000 men to wait for the 15,000 Jackson had. But some 7,000 thousand rebels suddenly changed direction and went North to Franklin. Splitting on the face of a superior enemy so far away from their base of operations seemed insane, so the Union commander believed it was a trap and sent only 10,000 men to go for them. The other half of the force remained in Catonsville like a sitting duck.

At Franklin, Jackson quickly forded the small stream and waited for the Federals, who launched piecemeal attacks that he repealed easily. Then his rebels went forward with a mighty yell, scattering the Federals, who retreated back to Baltimore. Then he returned to Catonsville, reunited his force, and defeated the Union force there, which in turn fled west toward Frederick. Thus, Jackson managed to defeat a superior force by splitting his force, and took some 20,000 soldiers out from McDowell’s force. After this magnificent performance, Jackson and his men wearily crossed the Patapsco further west and returned to their comrades.

While Jackson was maneuvering behind him, McDowell and his 60,000 men battled Beauregard’s 40,000. Towards the end of the day, the Federals imposed themselves and forced Beauregard back in chaotic retreat behind the Little Patuxent. McDowell’s tired men were barely able to continue, and Jackson’s stunt had reduced them to 40,000, equal to Beauregard’s force. But they pressed on, and on the third day they again came to blows. By then, frantic telegrams from Halleck and Lincoln forced McClellan to finally go forward. Magruder’s theatrics, which included several Quaker cannons, were discovered. Rather than try to resist on the unsuitable terrain of the little peninsula, Magruder retreated and joined Beauregard. For his part, McClellan decided not to pursue the Confederates, but instead went North to join McDowell, much to his superiors’ displeasure.

The Second Maryland Campaign​

After two days of brutal and bloody fighting, the Confederate and Union forces were finally consolidated in a single place, the Little Patuxent separating them. From his initial 70,000 men, Beauregard was down to 55,000; McDowell had gone from 100,000 to 60,000, having lost 20,000 men in battle and also counting the 20,000 Jackson had managed to mislead and mystify. The result was deadly frustrating to Lincoln, and also to the people, who anxiously waited for results. But now it seemed like victory was within their grasp. With the addition of McClellan’s fresh troops, the Yankees seemed to be in better shape as well. Even though McDowell complained of his subordinate’s timidity, and was miffed when newspapers praised him for escaping the “corking” without really fighting, the Union commander was ready to put that aside and work together for to give the final coup to the rebellion.

But the rebels once again got the drop on the Federals. As soon as dawn broke, they went forward with a chilling rebel yell that took the Yankees by surprise. Tired Union soldiers scattered, until McDowell himself came forward and tried to rally them back. In that moment, a stray shot hit him in the leg. The general was rushed to the medical station and had his leg amputated, but he would not survive the operation, dying the next day. The Confederate side was also struck by disgrace, Beauregard being also hit. Unlike McDowell, he survived, but his wounds still left the Confederates without a commander.

With McDowell unable to command, McClellan took the reigns of the operation. The rebels had decided to retreat all the way to Washington. Seeing the sorry state of the men, and still believing that the many outnumbered him, McClellan decided to not pursue. The Second Maryland Campaign, which included the Battles of Sweetser’s Bridge, Ellicott’s Mills, Catonsville, Franklin, and Little Patuxent, had come to an end.

The results of those three bloody days were 17,000 casualties on the Confederate side, which included almost 3,000 deaths, and 25,000 casualties on the Union side, including 4,000 deaths. The victory wasn’t as great as expected – Washington remained on the hands of the enemy, after all. But, despite the high prize, the rebellion had been dealt a hard blow. It seemed now that just one effort more was needed to destroy what remained of Beauregard’s force, retake Washington, and then march on to Richmond.

Time would prove that these expectations were too sanguine. The greatest and most direct effect of the Second Maryland Campaign was how it changed the goals and methods of both sides. Now firmly convinced that this was going to be a hard and long war, both the Confederate and Union government took new measures that some months ago would seem unthinkable. Breckinridge would increase the power of his government to pursue the war effectively, and he called Longstreet and Lee to Richmond, to replace the ineffective Johnston and the wounded Beauregard, respectively. For his part, Lincoln became more willing to adopt radical measures to end the war, and his thoughts turned towards an Emancipation Proclamation as the best way to do so. The Second Maryland Campaign had not been the decisive battle; rather, it set the stage for the Battle of Washington, which would indeed have much greater effects upon the war and the country.

​

 

[Red_Galiray]

The causes of the Civil War are many, but at the center of the conflict there is just one big cause from which all else derive: slavery. The “monstrous injustice” had been protected for decades by the Federal government, which wanted to prevent a bloody civil war from taking place. Outsized and undeserved Southern influence meant that most Presidents and Supreme Court Justices were Southerners, while Congress usually had Democratic majorities, which pushed forward measures that protected their peculiar institution. The first great crisis occurred after the Mexican War, when the future of the territories had to be settled. Ultimately, a compromise seemed to save the Union, but sectionalism continued.

Tensions grew inflamed again when Senator Stephen A. Douglas pushed forward the Kansas-Nebraska Act, which opened the previously free territories to slavery. The Whig Party was irremediably split, and in its place new anti-slavery coalitions appeared – the Republican Party. The 1854 midterms were a harsh rebuke of the measure, especially in Douglas’ home state of Illinois, where the Republican candidate Abraham Lincoln won a Senate seat. In that particular case, the appalling assassination of the respectable Lyman Trumbull probably helped Lincoln seize victory.

Free Soilers and pro-slavery Border Ruffians poured into Kansas, decided to take the territory for their side. The brutal bush war quickly received the name of Bleeding Kansas. The pro-slavery legislature at Lecompton stopped at nothing to get accepted into the Union as a slave state, even overlooking acts of political terrorism such as the sacking of Lawrence or engaging in dishonest electoral fraud. In Congress, violence increased, with the radical Senator Summer being brutally beaten by a pro-slavery Democrat. These acts fueled the tensions of the 1856 election, where the Republicans fielded their first candidate: the romantic John C. Frémont, who faced the timid James Buchanan. Despite a valiant showing, even carrying Illinois, Frémont would be defeated by Buchanan.

Buchanan further aided the slavocracy by appointing governors that seemed agreeable to Kansas’ slave traders. But Governor Geary was unwilling to condone the electoral fraud, and when Border Ruffians tried to sack the small town of Osawatomie, he faced them and drove them off. Buchanan vowed to Southern demands and arrested Geary, but abolitionists broke him out and speeded him to Canada. The new governor was similarly unable to stop the bleeding.

Soon after Buchanan assumed office, the Supreme Court decided in the case of Dred Scott v. Sandford that slavery was legal in all territories, that Congress had no power to regulate or abolish it, and that Black people were not and could not be citizens of the United States. The decision was seen as the result of a corrupt Southern Cabal, the Slave Power, aided by Buchanan who tried to convince Justice Grier to vote. But Grier abstained, and at the end the decision was a purely sectional one, made by five Southern Democrats, for Southern Democrats.

This bad blood between the two wings of the Democracy caused Douglas to rebel when the Lecompton Legislature tried to get Kansas admitted as a slave state. Northern Democrats and Republicans united, but at the end the South triumphed and Kansas entered the Union, despite the fact that the great majority of Kansas opposed slavery. This final aggressive act of the Slave Power killed the Democratic Party in the North. The remnants tried to unite behind the new name of National Union Party, led by Douglas. Nonetheless, the 1858 elections were a big victory for the Republicans. Senator Lincoln faced Douglas, up for reelection, in 8 legendary debates, and Douglas would lose his seat, further weakening the new National Union.

Stephen A. Douglas, the Little Giant.​

The most dramatic moment was yet to come. John Brown, a fanatical veteran of Bleeding Kansas, decided to attack the Federal Armory at Harpers Ferry to hopefully spark a slave revolt that would result in universal emancipation. Brown managed to take the Armory and recruit some slaves, but he ultimately was driven away. After a chase through the mountains, he was captured and sentenced to death for treason. The discovery that a group of radical Northerners, the Secret Six, had aided his raid caused furor in the South, as well as Republican insistence in a fair trial for Brown.

Brown was executed, but his last words and his aptitude awoke a profound anti-slavery sentiment within the people of the North, who crowned him as a Martyr to Liberty. Believing that the North was united against them, Southerners grew increasingly paranoid. Many Northerners were lynched or driven out, and militias were formed as the South was gripped by fear and hostility.

This directly caused the Democratic National Convention at Charleston to fail, as Southerners refused to accept the Douglasites and instead nominated John C. Breckinridge, the vice-president. The dispirited National Unionists nominated Douglas, in a desperate attempt to keep a Republican from the White House. A Constitutional Union ticket headed by John Bell was also put forward, but it gathered little support. By contrast, the Republican National Convention moved with energy and enthusiasm, and selected the dark horse candidate Abraham Lincoln. Pledging to limit slavery, the Republicans campaigned on freedom for the territories, and attacked the corruption of the Buchanan administration.

In election day, Lincoln carried the entire North with 60% of the vote, while Breckinridge carried the entire South except for Missouri, carried by the slaveholder Bell. The stage was set, and South Carolina seceded in December 1860. Soon, the lower South joined and they formed a new nation in Montgomery, Alabama – the Confederate States of America, funded with the sole purpose of protecting slavery and White Supremacy. They elected John C. Breckinridge as President and prepared for war, despite assuring everyone that they only wanted to be left alone.

The timid Buchanan did not do anything as the rebels seized armories, custom posts, and forts, including Fort Sumter off Charleston harbor. Republicans tried to pressure Buchanan into doing something, and started the impeachment process, more as a symbolic act than anything. Virginia, still haunted by the shadow of John Brown, would secede in February, 1861. North Carolina soon followed, while other Southern states had conventions active, ready to secede.

Now in charge, President Lincoln did support attempts at peace, but he was unwilling to unconditionally surrender by granting all Southern concessions, including the territories. After the secession of Virginia, Washington was surrounded by hostile territory, including Maryland secessionists. Lincoln tried to call Federal troops to defend Washington, but they were stopped by violent riots in Baltimore. Maryland finally seceded from the Union, though a rival Unionists government was created in Frederick. Rebel troops took Washington, burning down the city for the second time, while Lincoln escaped down the Potomac, arriving at the new Union capital of Philadelphia. From there, he called for 150,000 volunteers, and the North answered with enthusiasm.

The call for volunteers, however, also impelled Tennessee and Arkansas out of the Union, and led to small civil wars within Missouri and Kentucky. In Missouri, the bold Nathaniel Lyon stood up against the secessionist governor, though the state would remain bloody ground. In Kentucky, a policy of neutrality remained for anxious weeks, until the Confederate commander invaded the state, awakening fiery Unionism within the Kentuckians.

President of the United States Abraham Lincoln​

An Army was organized to retake Washington, which was put under the command of General Irvin McDowell, and baptized the Army of the Susquehanna. In Baltimore, the rebels under General P. T. G. Beauregard waited for several months until chaotic “do-it-yourself” recruitment had formed true armies. They finally faced each other in August, 1861. The Federals were able to retake Baltimore and drive off the rebels, but they remained corked in Annapolis, where the talented Thomas Jackson resisted all attacks, earning the nickname Stonewall.

Previous to this battle, the Unionists of West Virginia met in a convention and, calling themselves the Restored Government of Virginia, approved the creation of a new state, Kanawha. The good performance of the Young Napoleon, George B. McClellan, earned him respect and a transfer to the Army of the Susquehanna. For his part, Robert E. Lee, who only sided with the Confederacy to protect his home state, failed and was exiled for the moment.

In the West, the Federals under the command of Ulysses S. Grant, an apparently unpromising but cool and decided general, drove most Confederates out of Kentucky and took Fort Henry. The soldier-like rebel, Albert Sidney Johnston, retreated to Bowling Green. In the meantime, Lincoln pushed for an advance into East Tennessee, but William T. Sherman, who had fought admirably at Baltimore, refused due to wildly overestimated rebel numbers. An advance took place later, with George Henry Thomas facing the rebels at Logan’s Crossroads, defeating them but being unable to continue any advance.

Shortly after the new year, Grant prepared to take Fort Donelson, but was attacked first by Johnston at Dover. Grant did not panic, and instead drove Johnston back, forcing the rebel commander to retreat, leaving behind the garrison at Donelson. The commander tried to talk terms with Grant, but he demanded immediate and unconditional surrender. Unconditional Surrender Grant thus became a popular war hero in the North, and he prepared to continue his advance down the Mississippi, while Johnston lost a third of his army and had to leave Nashville and the entire Kentucky.

While this happened, Lincoln had to deal with judicial challenges against his decision to suspend the writ of habeas corpus to try and contain treason in Maryland, and also had to establish a blockade as part of General in-chief Winfield Scott’s Anaconda Plan. Scott, and also the corrupt Secretary of War Simon Cameron, proved to not be up to the task, and would be replaced by Henry W. Halleck and Edwin M. Stanton as General in-chief and Secretary of War respectively.

At the start of 1862, General Burnside conducted a series of highly successful amphibious campaigns around the North Carolina sounds, which closed many rebel ports. The only silver lining was the discovery of the talented James Longstreet, but it was clear that despite flirting with privateers and doing his best in logistics, the Confederacy was vastly inferior at sea and in material advantage.

In January 1862, after months of inactivity, the Army of the Susquehanna launched a second campaign. But McClellan did not move because he believed the enemy was greatly superior. A magnificent campaign by Stonewall Jackson took 20,000 men from McDowell’s force, and although McDowell eventually forced Beauregard behind the Little Patuxent, a sharpshooter hit him after a rebel charge that reached his headquarters. Beauregard was also wounded, but unlike McDowell, he survived. Though the result was a Union victory, the Army of the Susquehanna was now under the command of McClellan, and the heavy prize of 25,000 casualties did not seem to be justified by the relatively small victory.

As the war grew harder, it also grew in radicalism. Radical Republicans wanted the war to also spell the end of slavery and the old South, and as a result agitated in favor of emancipation and anti-slavery measures. Lincoln was reluctant at first, countermanding a proclamation by Frémont that liberated all slaves in Missouri, which had a considerable conservative backlash.

Eventually, due to his expanded horizons and his slow realization that the war could not end if slavery did not end first, Lincoln started to cooperate with Congress, outlawing slavery in the territories and in D.C. However, he was not prepared to enlist Black soldiers or issue an Emancipation Proclamation yet.

First, he pushed for compensated emancipation in the Border States, but they firmly opposed the measure. The President did not push for colonization because he had been convinced that it was an inhumane solution. When escaped slaves started to arrive to the Union lines, the so-called contrabands, he at first did not set a policy, but later disposed that they could not be returned to their owners, liberating them for all intents and purposes.

Radical agitation grew as more people pushed for universal emancipation and war for both Union and Freedom, with abolitionists becoming respected figures. The vital role of Baltimore’s Black population in the capture of the city caused many to change opinions. However, conservatives started to rally to Douglas’ National Union. Now called Chesnuts, these conservatives opposed the radical measures, the Lincoln administration, and sometimes the war itself. They were still divided by grudges from Lecompton, but were nonetheless an effective if virulent opposition.

President of the Confederate States, John C. Breckinridge​

The greatest challenge was probably the Canadian Incident, when a group of Americans crossed the border with Canada and kidnapped Confederate agents together with one Canadian citizens. The British, who preferred to sit out of the war instead of aiding either the Union or the Confederacy, were outraged, and at the end the Lincoln administration had to bow down to their demands, preventing war.

Following the Second Maryland Campaign, the war started to grow in intensity and radicalism, with both sides turning towards harder measures while political polarization reigned in the North. Lincoln prepared to issue an emancipation proclamation, which would radically change the character of the war. He was now ready for such a measure, because it was clear that the Civil War would last for many more arduous and bloody years.

 

[Red_Galiray]

The Second Maryland Campaign was not the magnificent success that people were hoping for. It was a severe blow against the rebels, that is true. However, the Union Army had not managed to take Washington, and the Southern Army could still fight. The war would go on, and it was time for reform and change. Now it was clear that a lot of blood and treasure would have to be spent to put down the Rebellion. All Americans, whether National Unionist or Republican, Black or White, Southern or Northern, knew that a Union victory would not and could not result in the restoration of the Union as it was. At the very least, slavery would have to die. But to assure such a result, the Federal arms had to emerge victorious from the struggle. And increasingly, President Abraham Lincoln became convinced that an Emancipation Proclamation would be needed to secure victory.

This conviction was born out of the political failure of Lincoln’s Border State strategy, his lack of faith in McClellan and Halleck, and military failure, or at the very least the fact that military operations didn’t fulfill his sanguine expectations. The pressure of Radicals and Abolitionist for immediate military emancipation also contributed, as well as the actions of Black people themselves, who continued to flee to the Union Army, thus resulting in the slow but sure erosion of slavery as an institution. Events in Kansas and Baltimore would also contribute, as the people didn’t wait for Lincoln to make up his mind but instead fought against slavery with renewed vigor.

Maryland, now almost completely under Union control, was of special interest. The President’s plan for compensated emancipation with Federal assistance had failed in the face of fiery conservative opposition. It was clear that the Administration could find no cooperation in the current Maryland government. But the prospect for bringing a new Southern Republican government into power in the Old-Line State seemed brighter than ever. The idea of creating a Southern Republican party that could reform the Slave States from within was a cornerstone of the Radical Plan for Constitutional abolition. Now such an organization was being formed, composed of artisans, professionals, small independent farmers, and enlightened reformists – the Republican’s base constituency.

Marylander Republicanism was embodied in the figure of the Radical Henry Winter Davis. Like most Maryland Republicans, he was firmly against the pre-war elites, whom he regarded as slavocrats who preferred “aristocratic privilege over republican equality”. The disdain these Southern Republicans (soon to be known as Scalawags) showed towards the slaveholders of the Chesapeake counties was intensified by the fact that it was them that pushed half of Maryland towards secession and thus made their state a battlefront. “Each fallen tree, each devastated farm, and every drop of blood spilt over our soil, is because of those traitors”, acerbically declared a Baltimore newspaper. Pre-war resentments also played a part, for, as one slaveholder noted, “it seems to give great satisfaction to the laboring whites, that the non laboring slave owners are losing their slaves, and they too will be reduced to the necessity of going into the fields.”

Henry Winter Davis​

The experience of slavery’s disintegration and the presence of the Union Army also led to greater support for abolition and a complete reform of the state. An anti-slavery leader remarked that the “great army in blue, comes together with a great army of ideas.” Events in Baltimore contributed to this internal revolution, for the brief period of Confederate rule followed by Union occupation caused a profound impression. “Should the rebels triumph,” a speaker loudly exclaimed, “aristocracy and privilege will rule the day. The laborers of this city have already experienced such a despotism. Are you ready to suffer through it again?” A newspaper agreed, declaring that Confederate rule had “been a disaster for the working man.”

The pivotal role that Blacks played in the capture of the city aroused different, confusing feelings. Some, perhaps a majority, of Maryland’s Republicans were ready for emancipation not because they felt any sympathy for the Negro, but rather because they believed that the introduction of free labor into Maryland would result in a booming economy and social development. Baltimore, under the direction of General Benjamin Butler, became a focal point of racial tensions. As contrabands flocked to the city, the inhabitants saw their worst nightmares come true – “an infestation of African savages”, a resident described it.

However, the presence of the Union Army and interaction with the Black population, even as it strengthened prejudice in some people, weakened it in others. Some came to the natural conclusion that without the assistance of the Black population during the assault on Federal Hill, the rebels would have won, and Baltimore would have remained under the control of traitors. Others worked side by side with Black people reconstructing the city, or observed the success of teachers and other Northern philanthropists. Mostly women, these idealist reformers flocked to Maryland to help educate the freedmen and assure the success of the Revolution in Maryland.

In any case, even if the formation of a Republican Party in Maryland gave hope to Republicans, it also showed that the way for reform and abolition laid not through appealing to the pre-war elites. Rather, it would have to be accomplished by forming a coalition of laborers and artisans, people committed to the complete Reconstruction of the South in all aspects. While these people were ready to embrace change, the slavocrats clung to slavery. In areas already liberated by the Union Army, they were quick to pledge loyalty in order to gain trading permits and do business with the North. But the ones that remained in Confederate areas were ardent supporters of the rebellion. “Our vilest foes,” an army officer said with evident disgust, “now proclaim themselves to be true and loyal friends.”

Whether on the side of the government or the rebellion, these slavocrats had something in common – their total, unified and unconditional opposition to emancipation or any kind of reform. They were convinced by the development of Radical ideas in the North that it would not stop at emancipation, and feared racial equality or Black suffrage. Their stern refusal to accept Lincoln’s proposal for compensated emancipation or create their own plan for gradual abolition resulted, eventually, on the uncompensated destruction of slavery in Maryland. But that laid in the future, and for now Maryland slaveholders clung to the hope that the Union could be restored with slavery untouched. However, this hope was frankly seen by Northerners as disloyalty, for they had come to believe that a Union victory could not result in the “Union as it was.”

Political cartoon showing Butler's administration of Baltimore​

The beginnings of Maryland’s Republican Party taught Lincoln that he could not rely on the pre-war Southern leadership if he wanted to assure the end of slavery, for they would fight tooth and nail to conserve it, spurning every attempt at compensated emancipation. Lincoln had pleaded with them to adopt his emancipation plan, saying that if they did not it would be “impossible to foresee all the incidents which may attend and all the ruin which may follow.” “You can not if you would, be blind to the signs of the times”, the President implored, but the Border State leadership remained willingly blind. If the South was to be Reconstructed and slavery abolished, the rebellion would have to be defeated first, and new leadership brought to power.

Under normal circumstances, the events in Maryland would probably renew Lincoln’s commitment to compensated, gradual emancipation instead of pushing him towards military measures. Some moderates had hoped that leniency and a pledge not to touch the South’s institutions would allow Unionists to reassert themselves and Reconstruct the Confederacy from within. If it had seemed like the Union was about to defeat the Confederacy, such a plan would have been practicable. However, after a year of war, Lincoln and most Republicans had stopped to believe in the existence of a secret Southern Unionist majority. The war was still far from over, and Lincoln increasingly viewed the liberation of the slaves not as something to be done after its end, but as a weapon to assure a Union victory.

The early Reconstruction of Kansas, on the other hand, taught important lessons about the potential of Black people as soldiers. After years of living under a Slave State government that they saw as corrupt and illegitimate, Kansans had become committed Radicals dedicated to the destruction of slavery and its social system. Thus, they had no qualms in employing Black troops. Lincoln ignored the existence of these Black regiments because he did not want to meet the issue of Black soldiers yet. Likewise, he did not execute the provisions of the Second Confiscation Act, which allowed the use of Blacks in "any military or naval service for which they may be found competent."

But the Negro regiments still proved pivotal in expulsing the final vestiges of the old slave government. The well-publicized deeds of these Black soldiers increased the pressure on the Administration and probably helped convince many Northerners that Blacks could be employed to suppress the rebellion. As Hunter commented, "no officer in this regiment now doubts that the key to the successful prosecution of the war lies in the unlimited employment of black troops.” In the South Carolina sea islands, where an experiment on free labor was being conducted with the help of the same Northern philanthropists that now crowded Baltimore, the prestigious writer Thomas Wentworth Higginson took part in the quiet organization of a Black regiment, something that the New York Tribune declared would weaken American’s “inveterate Saxon prejudice against the capacity and courage of negro troops.”

As a result of these events, Lincoln stopped pushing for compensated emancipation with Federal assistance, and decided to instead allow erosion and the rising new political classes to Reconstruct the Border States. But he would also take a more active role in the destruction of slavery in the Confederate States. An Emancipation Proclamation would enormously weaken the rebels, allow for the rise of new Unionist leadership, and assure the destruction of slavery – all goals dear to Lincoln’s heart. This was something that all Republicans recognized. George Julian, for example, declared that the slaves "cannot be neutral. As laborers, if not as soldiers, they will be the allies of the rebels, or of the Union." Other Republicans declared that "the mere suppression of the rebellion will be an empty mockery of our sufferings and sacrifices, if slavery shall be spared to canker the heart of the nation anew, and repeat its diabolical deeds."

George Washington Julian​

Due to this, Lincoln and the rest of the Party became “prepared for one to meet the broad issue of universal emancipation”, as Senator John Sherman said. Even a conservative Republican journal admitted "a year ago men that might have faltered at the thought of proceeding to this extremity [emancipation] are in great measure prepared for it now." Republicans also supported the harsher war measures that the Lincoln Administration now sought to adopt. The time for “white kid-glove warfare” was over, and, an officer added, "the iron gauntlet must be used more than the silken glove to crush this serpent.” Yet, if they wanted a General to enact this hard war measures, they had mistaken their men, for neither Halleck nor McClellan were the ones for this task.

Halleck, despite his reputation for being an intelligent and capable officer, turned out to be “little more than a first-rate clerk”, as Lincoln would later say bitterly. He was a cautious man, who, John Hay declared, “hates responsibility; hates to give orders.” Instead of the active General in-chief Lincoln had hoped for, he had a military bureaucrat who did little to assist him in winning the war. Instead of being able to focus on the political and social aspects of the war while Halleck managed its strategic and tactical sides, Lincoln was forced to oversee all aspects – an enormous pressure for a man untrained in the military sciences. Halleck’s incapacity probably did much to erode Lincoln’s early deference to professional military men.

McClellan, however, was worse in many respects. For one, he resented the fact that he had not being appointed General in-chief, despite his political maneuvers. When he received scathing criticism due to his performance at the Second Maryland Campaign, he dismissed it as the work of “deceitful and conceited men”, instead of accepting it and improving. For yes, it was true that McClellan’s slowness had probably limited the success of the Union Army. Some even whispered that McClellan had purposely held back to make McDowell would fail, thus securing the command of the Army of the Susquehanna for himself. At their worst, some critics even called him a murderer, asserting that McClellan’s failure to act had resulted in the death of one of the Union’s premier commanders.

Lincoln, though saddened by McDowell’s demise, was at first willing to accept McClellan as the new commander of the main Union Army in the East. He hoped that Little Mac would bring energy and strength to a command that seemed to lack both under McDowell. And at first, it seemed like he would. The dispirited and tired soldiers welcomed McClellan with enthusiasm:

“Men threw their caps high into the air, and danced and frolicked like school-boys. . . . Shout upon shout went out into the stillness of the night; and as it was taken up along the road and repeated by regiment, brigade, division, and corps, we could hear the roar dying away in the distance. . . . The effect of this man's presence upon the Army of the Susquehanna . . . was electrical, and too wonderful to make it worth-while attempting to give a reason for it.”​

Indeed, McClellan brought dynamism to a broken army. McDowell was capable, but McClellan was a superb organizer who quickly obtained a devoted following among the soldiers. The fighting men hoped that McClellan would break the bloody pattern of months of inactivity followed by hellish battles established since Baltimore. At first, his leadership seemed to instill pride and discipline in the men. “McClellan forged the Army of the Susquehanna into a fighting machine second to none—this was his important contribution to ultimate Union victory—but he proved unable to run this machine at peak efficiency in the crisis of battle”, comments historian James McPherson.

Time would show that McClellan was not the “man of destiny” that he believed himself to be. It’s possible that his early success convinced him that Providence had brought him to the world to save the Union. Raised by an affluent family, he had been admitted to West Point by a special permit, for he was two years under the minimum age. He would proceed to find success in all his endeavors, earning distinction in the Mexican War and success as a civil engineer and businessman. Now that he finally assumed an important command, McClellan was convinced that he was the only man that could win the war. "By some strange operation of magic I seem to have become the power of the land," he commented to his wife. The adulation of newspapers and National Unionists, and the seemingly friendly intentions of the Republicans only bolstered his ego.

After McClellan's death, his wife published their correspondence, which paints a rather unflaterring portrayal of McClellan. Some have suggested that she actually resented her husband, especially because they married only due to her father's insistence. Previous to their wedding, she had wanted to marry A. P. Hill, who would join the Rebellion as a Confederate officer. ​

Despite all this, Republicans would quickly grow disillusioned. McClellan “had never known, as Grant had, the despair of defeat or the humiliation of failure. He had never learned the lessons of adversity and humility.” He was arrogant and sometimes downright insubordinate. He was paranoid, believing that everybody was arranged in a vast conspiracy against him. He especially grew to detest Stanton and Halleck, and although his relation with Lincoln could sometimes be more cordial, McClellan still had little faith in his Commander-in chief, whom he called a “baboon” and “gorilla” behind his back. Infamously, when Lincoln, Seward and Hay visited McClellan to confer with him, McClellan refused, leaving them to wait in his living room. The President and his entourage were only told that the General had gone to sleep, without even the courtesy of greeting them.

More worringly, McClellan was a Conservative National Unionist who wanted simply to "dodge the nigger—we want nothing to do with him. / am fighting to preserve the integrity of the Union. . . . To gain that end we cannot afford to mix up the negro question.” McClellan’s commitment to his old Whig ideals of moderation and his distaste for Radical Republicanism would show time and time again, as he refused to become the instrument through which emancipation and the destruction of the old South would be enacted. He was not the man to carry out into execution these plans for a Radical, hard war. His first orders to his men showed this, for he reminded them “that we are engaged in supporting the Constitution and the laws . . . we are not engaged in a war of rapine, revenge or subjugation; that this is not a contest against populations; but against armed forces and political organizations.” Her laid the greatest flaw in McClellan’s generalship – he never managed to grasp that the conception of the war had fundamentally changed, and that it was now a War between Peoples.

Active and aggressive commanders were especially needed in the face of apparent lack of success. Aside from the West, where the dynamic Grant kept pressuring the rebels, the Union Army did not meet much success in the aftermath of the Second Maryland Campaign. Plans were being drawn for the capture of New Orleans, but there was no telling whether they would succeed. The Union did achieve a relatively small victory, driving back Sterling Price’s Missourians out of the state and into Arkansas. They then proceeded to win another small victory, that is worth mentioning because it was one of the few occasions on which the Confederates outnumbered the Federals.

In early March, the hardened rebel Earl Van Dorn had arrived to take command of the Confederate troops there, intending to "make a reputation and serve my country. . . . I must have St. Louis—then Huzza!” But he ran into the Union Army of Samuel R. Curtis at Pea Ridge, which, although smaller, was better equipped and trained. Imbued with Lyon’s hate for the rebels that had brought so much devastation and chaos to Missouri, they shattered Van Dorn’s line and scattered the Southerners, bringing Van Dorn’s raid to an early end. The troops, however, managed to regroup and head to Corinth, where Albert Sydney Johnston was waiting for them.

Earl Van Dorn​

Even if their commanders were rather conservative and ineffective, the experience of war also brought changes within the Union ranks. Many of them were farm boys who were now widening their horizons and learning about the world, and encountering contrabands was their first experience with Black people. Rare was the soldier that declared, as a Wisconsin private did, that he had “no heart in this war if the slaves cannot be free.” Most probably felt like a New York private who wanted to “first conquer & then its time enough to talk about the darrid niggers.” An officer in the Army of the Susquehanna echoed his feelings when he wrote that if Lincoln made it “an abolition war [,] . . . I for one shall be sorry that I ever lent a hand to it. . . . This war [must be] for the preservation of the Union, the putting down of armed rebellion, and for that purpose only.”

The differing opinions of the Union soldiers show in how they treated contrabands, both before and after Congress produced legislation to guide the process. In Maryland, many slaveholders bitterly denounced the hostility they found whenever they tried to retake their slaves. One, for instance, described how the soldiers “threatened me and applied opprobrious Epithets such as Negro stealer until I was obliged to leave the ground, without finding my servant.” Another Maryland slaveowner was stopped by “a large crowd” that “got around him and knocked him about throwing small stones and dirt at him and otherwise ill treating him and finally driving him out of the camp without allowing him to take his Negro.” A Missouri “gentleman” was forced to desist from his attempt to take back his slave by “an officer who threatened to shoot him if he persisted.”

On the other hand, Billy Yank often also engaged in acts of abuse or contempt against the contrabands. Some soldiers welcomed them so that they would have “Negroes to do all fatigue work, cooking and washing clothes." But other soldiers were downright monstrous. A soldier described an incident that made him “ashamed of America”: "About 8 - 1 0 soldiers from the New York 47th chased some Negro women but they escaped, so they took a Negro girl about 7 - 9 years old, and raped her." Officers, especially Democrats from the Border State, also abused the contrabands. A Kentucky officer, for example, expulsed contrabands from his camp just before the winter, a “cruel and barbarous treatment” that, Stanton reported, “greatly grieved” Lincoln. In some cases, Negroes suffered due to the fact that the Army was simply not equipped to serve as a welfare agency. A colonel, inquired by Butler about reports of the bad condition of the contrabands, responded that he had “been trying to-day to secure suitable shelter for them, but they have come in upon me so fast I have found it very difficult.”

Despite these missteps and the often tragic consequences that arose from them, finding contrabands also served to weaken the prejudice of the soldiers and convince them of the necessity of Emancipation. An Iowa private became convinced that it was necessary. "I believe that Slavery (the worst of all curses) was the sole cause of this Rebellion, and untill this cause is removed and slavery abolished, the rebellion will continue to exist.” An Ohio comrade agreed, saying that "We are now fighting to destroy the cause of these dangerous diseases, which is slavery and the slave power. The war will never end until we end slavery.” Soldiers who had gone South already arrayed against slavery had their opinions reinforced, such as a Pennsylvania man who declared "I thought I hated slavery as much as possible before I came here, but here, where I can see some of its workings, I am more than ever convinced of the cruelty and inhumanity of the system.” Seeing the horrors of slavery also converted many soldiers, such as an Indianan who confessed that he was “no abolitionist," but “the more I see of slavery in all its enormity the more I am satisfied that it is a curse to our country. . . . It’s a cruel system, an insult to God, and a curse to progress and civilization."

Some soldiers expressed these opinions because they also had become convinced of the need for a hard war. "We have been . . . playing with Traitors long enough. We have guarded their property long enough, now is the time for action”, said one. A colonel fierily declared that "we [must] teach these ingrates that we can punish with a rod of iron, that we can not only meet and vanquish them on the field but that we have the nerve and the will to sweep them & all they hold dear clear off from the face of the earth. . . . Slavery is doomed.” In general, although there was still a large group of soldiers who opposed emancipation in all its forms, the Army, soldiers and officers both, were starting to believe that universal military emancipation would be needed to win the war.

Contrabands of war​

Just as the thinking of the people, soldiers and politicians was evolving with regards to the slavery question, so was Lincoln’s. The failure of his Border State strategy and the realization that unless slavery was killed first it would survive the war convinced Lincoln that a general Emancipation Proclamation would be needed to suppress the rebellion. In February 18th, a fortnight after the end of the Second Maryland Campaign, President Lincoln met with his full Cabinet and presented three orders, all of which executed the provisions of the Second Confiscation Act. The first allowed military commanders to seize civilian goods to live off the land; the second authorized the use of Blacks as military laborers and to garrison forts; the third was an early draft of the Emancipation Proclamation.

The move was not completely unexpected. After the passage of the Second Confiscation Act, Secretary Stanton had assured Charles Sumner that “a decree of Emancipation would be issued within two months.” After the Second Maryland Campaign, Lincoln told Secretaries Seward and Welles that he would issue an Emancipation Proclamation, liberating all slaves held by rebels in accordance with the Act’s dispositions. Lincoln declared that he had come to the decision that Emancipation was “a necessity, absolutely essential to the preservation of the Union. We must free the slaves or be ourselves subdued.” He went on, saying that the Border States “would do nothing”, and that it would be unfair to ask them to give up slavery while allowing the rebels to keep it. Thus, "the blow must fall first and foremost on [the rebels]. . . . Decisive and extensive measures must be adopted. . . . We wanted the army to strike more vigorous blows. The Administration must set an example, and strike at the heart of the rebellion”.

Lincoln started that fateful cabinet meeting with one of the funny anecdotes that he loved. Everybody laughed, or at least chuckled, except for the perpetually serious Stanton. Then he adopted a serious tone, and read his three orders. The draft for the Emancipation Proclamation was brief, barely two paragraphs. It cited the authority of the Second Confiscation Act, and then proceeded to threaten that it would go into operation unless the Rebel states agreed to “cease participating in, aiding, countenancing, or abetting the existing rebellion.” If they did not, Lincoln, under his authority “as Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States,” would, “as a fit and necessary military measure”, proclaim “all persons held as slaves within any state ..., wherein the constitutional authority of the United States shall not then be practically recognized,... forever ... free”, effective as soon as the Proclamation was issued.

The President was quick to inform his cabinet that he had “resolved upon this step, and had not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject-matter of a proclamation before them.” Speed and Stanton urged “immediate promulgation.” Chase was surprisingly cold, admitting that the plan went “beyond anything I have recommended,” and that he would have preferred emancipation by local military commanders, but he still pledged to support it. Blair was opposed; Welles remained silent, though he recognized later that the Proclamation would bring “a revolution of the social, civil, and industrial habits and condition of society in all the slave states.”

James Speed​

Secretary Seward, an ardent opponent of slavery, was the only one that managed to change the President’s opinion. The Union Army had achieved success, but after a year of war the Federal capital still remained in the hands of the enemy, the economic position of the government was shaky, and the rebellion seemed far from over. To issue the Emancipation Proclamation from such a position would be an “act of desperation”, that would embolden the rebels, demoralize the Border States and the Army, and possibly bring about foreign intervention. “Our last shriek on the retreat”, Lincoln described it, saying that “the wisdom of the view of the Secretary of State struck me with great force.”

Lincoln adjourned the meeting, resolving that he would issue the Emancipation Proclamation after a great victory had been achieved. It would then be the final strike of a victorious government, a final blow against the rebellion. Lincoln hoped that General McClellan would be able to mount a campaign and retake Washington, from where he could issue the Emancipation Proclamation. The Proclamation, after the great victory that Lincoln would hope for, would demoralize the rebels, perhaps make them surrender, and would set the stage for a harder, Radical war for Union and Liberty. Thus, Lincoln set aside the Proclamation and waited. But the wait would prove to be a long one.

 

[Red_Galiray]

John C. Breckinridge had technically been serving as merely Provisional President until February 9th, 1861, when he was formally inaugurated as President of the Confederate States of America. That day was appropriately bleak, for the mood of the Southerners had sunk to its lowest level yet. Dressed in solemn dark suits, Breckinridge, Davis, and several Negro manservants attended the inauguration. A woman asked why everyone was dressed like that. “This, ma’am, is the way we always does in Richmond at funerals,” replied dryly the Negro coachman. Indeed, following the Second Maryland Campaign and the fall of Fort Donelson, it seemed like a funeral for the whole Confederate cause would soon be held.

But Breckinridge refused to surrender. He had pledged to achieve the independence of his country no matter what challenges he had to face. The President acknowledged that “after a series of successes and victories, which covered our arms with glory, we have recently met with serious disasters”. But their forebears in the American Revolution had suffered similar defeats before achieving ultimate victory. “Let us remember, that we are the inheritors of the heroic title of rebels, a name used by tyrants to denigrate those who struggle for the holy cause of Constitutional Liberty”, the President said. “For the sake of our country, and with the blessings of Providence, we must continue with patriotism and faith, and if need be part with our lives in the altar of freedom. Only then can be prove that we are truly worthy of this glorious inheritance.”

But the rebels still had many challenges before them, and many somber days would pass before victory once again revealed itself. Despite Breckinridge’s inspiring words, most Southerners remained sad and pessimistic. Mary Boykin Chesnut reported “nervous chills every day. Bad news is killing me”, while a soldier in Virginia talked of the “utter lack of patriotism that affects our men. Another disaster, and our perdition is assured.” Despite attempts by newspapers to argue that the twin defeats were for the good of the Southern people because “they have taught us the price of our freedom, and thus impel us to work with greater earnestness for it”, most Confederates felt anything but enthusiasm. Even Albert Sidney Johnston recognized that the loss of Fort Donelson “was most disastrous and almost without remedy”.

Having rejected Johnston’s resignation at the behest of Secretary of War Davis, now Breckinridge demanded action from the General. “I have defended you from attacks that have proved to be painful to the cause, and to me personally”, he wrote to Johnston, “the rule of war is that victory is the only thing that can earn respect and support.” “I think it’s a hard rule”, Johnston agreed, “but a fair one. In my profession, success is my only test of merit.” With that in mind, Johnston prepared for a new offensive. He had retreated towards Corinth, where soon the forces of Polk, who had abandoned Columbus, and Van Dorn, who had been recently beaten at Pea Ridge, joined him. These meager reinforcements could not replace the armies that had surrendered at Fort Donelson, but they did bolster Johnston’s command to around 40,000 men, who were joined by a further 15,000 rebels, taken from the defenses of New Orleans.

Johnston thus had 55,000 rebels to face the 80,000 Yankees in Grant and Buell’s united command. General Lyon, following President Lincoln’s wishes, wanted to cooperate with Buell to assault Corinth before Johnston was able to rebuild his army. Buell had been appointed to head the Department of the Ohio after Sherman had failed to advance fast enough to trap Johnston. A West Point graduate who had followed glory at Mexico with years at the Adjutant General’s department, Buell was a close ally of McClellan, and although he did not share McClellan’s charisma, Buell was his equal in administrative prowess and, unfortunately, slowness and timidity. Buell’s appointment is owned to the influence of Little Mac, who, expecting to be appointed General in-Chief, had worked to fill the departments with his supporters. Grant had accidentally offended the ambitious Buell by insisting on pursuing the Confederates and dismissing Buell’s fears of a Confederate counterattack to retake Nashville. This did not augur well for future cooperation.

Don Carlos Buell​

Nonetheless, even if Buell couldn’t be counted as an ally, Grant had the confidence of General Lyon. Both had much in common – neither was particularly worried about military protocol, and both were aggressive and dynamic. Lyon never polished his boots, used a faded uniform, and often was found spreading a lot of mustard, a condiment he was very fond of, into slices of bread, even in the middle of battle. Grant similarly gave off a disheveled appearance, using a simple uniform, often caked with mud, and leading chaotic headquarters. These characteristics had earned them the scorn of many military men who were more preoccupied with playing the part of a modern general than winning the war. An example was Halleck, who had such contempt for Lyon and Grant that he often spread rumors of both being irresponsible drunkards.

Grant, always too trusting, was unable to see Halleck’s machinations and praised him as “a man of gigantic intellect, and well studied in the profession of arms.” Fortunately, Grant counted with a host of loyal allies. Aside from his loving wife Julia, Grant had the sincere friendship of John A. Rawlins, a young man who continuously defended Grant from sharp criticism and proved his best guardian against the allure of alcohol. Congressman Elihu Washburne, to whom Grant owned his appointment, served as his representative before the administration. Lincoln himself had come to appreciate Grant, reportedly saying that “I can’t spare this man – he fights”, when some people criticized the loss of life at the Battle of Dover. Lincoln had also provided Grant with another ally when he transferred William T. Sherman to his command.

An Ohioan like Grant, Sherman was a tall and lanky man, with reddish hair and a leathery face that showed his hardy nature. Cultured and capable, Sherman had a restive but passionate mind that never rested. Sherman’s upbringing in a respectable family that included his father, a Justice of the Ohio Supreme Court, and his brother, now a U.S. Senator, seemed to prepare Sherman for greatness. But he had floundered under stress, and was denounced as insane by a waspish press, despite his good performance at Baltimore. Disheartened by his dismissal as commander of the Ohio Department, Sherman fell into deep depression, even entertaining thoughts of suicide. But now he had a second chance, and meeting Grant would allow him to grow into one of the great heroes of the Union.

Both men would come to deeply respect each other. Sherman even remarked once that Grant “stood by me when I was crazy and I stood by him when he was drunk, and now, sir, we stand by each other always.” Grant, for his part, praised Sherman as “not only a great soldier, but a great man.” Their mutual admiration was probably due to their shared outlook of the war, both being some bold officers who were not afraid of battle. Sherman was probably more literate when it came to the art of war, even saying that “I am a damned sight smarter man than Grant; I know a great deal more about war, military history, strategy, and grand tactics than he does.” But he admitted that Grant “knows, he divines, when the supreme hour has come in a campaign of battle, and always boldly seizes it.” Later, Sherman would pronounce Grant “the greatest soldier of our time if not all time”, a great tribute coming from a man who would eventually become a legend himself. The Battle of Corinth was where this great friendship was forged.

Albert Sydney Johnston was waiting at this critical rail junction, where two essential north-south and east-west railroads could be found. Breckinridge considered the defense of Corinth so vital that he approved the movement of troops from New Orleans to bolster Johnston’s force. But besides concentrating his forces, Johnston didn’t have a clear plan of action. The wounded Beauregard argued loudly in Richmond for a second offensive-defensive stroke, proposing to attack Grant’s men at Pittsburg’s Landing before Buell could join him. "We must do something," the former commander of the Army of Northern Virginia said, "or die in the attempt, otherwise, all will be shortly lost.” But Beauregard’s failure at the Second Maryland campaign had shattered Breckinridge’s faith on him, and neither Joe Johnston nor Davis were really predisposed to argue in his behalf.

Taking advantage of Beauregard’s injuries, Breckinridge stripped the General of his command and reduced him to an insignificant post as a military adviser. Adding insult to injury, Breckinridge refused to listen to the advice Beauregard provided. The Confederate President was shrewd enough to avoid insulting or humiliating Beauregard, and in fact took pains to praise him publicly, even asking the Confederate Congress to give Beauregard a promotion to a proposed rank of “Marshal of the Armies of the Confederacy”. However, Beauregard recognized that he had been reduced to little more than a clerk, and that his chances of retaking the reigns of the Army of Northern Virginia were slim. When Breckinridge trusted command of this army to Joe Johnston, who also remained General in-Chief, Beauregard definitely broke with the President, and would soon enough denounce him “the very essence of egotism, vanity, obstinacy, perversity, and vindictiveness.”

Elihu Washburne​

In truth, Breckinridge wasn’t happy with Joe Johnston either, and would soon seek to replace him with Robert E. Lee as commander of the Army of Northern Virginia. The President was even considering James Longstreet for General in-chief. Since Longstreet was yet to forge his reputation in the battles for the North Carolina sound, and “Granny Lee” still hadn’t earned back the trust of the Southern people, Breckinridge for the moment was stuck with Johnston. But there is proof that he had already started to consider bringing both Virginians home for those important commands. It’s very noteworthy that Breckinridge was willing to ignore seniority and the usual chain of command, because Longstreet was outranked by Lee, Johnston and Beauregard, all of whom he would command if he were made General in-chief.

In the West, the practical result of these developments was that there was no one left to argue for an offensive against Grant, while both Johnstons argued for defense. Joe Johnston was being his usual cautious self, while Albert Sydney was chastised by the monumental failure of his attempt to attack Grant at Dover, and there was little reason to expect that an attack at Pittsburg’s Landing would go any different. On the other hand, the aggressive temperaments of both Grant and Lyon seemed to assure that an attack against Corinth would soon take place. Out of options, Johnston was forced to simply reinforce his position at Corinth and wait for Grant’s bluecoats.

Confederate prospects seemed bleak – many of Johnston’s reinforcements were green troops who “barely knew how to use a spade”, and his officers were inexperienced. Still, Johnston vowed to defend Corinth against all threats, vowing that the Yankees would never take the city “even if they were a million.” He soon issued a grandiose proclamation to his men, calling on then to defend “against agrarian mercenaries, sent to subjugate and despoil you of your liberties, property, and honor. . . . Remember the dependence of your mothers, your wives, your sisters, and your children on the result. . . . With such incentives to brave deeds . . . your generals will lead you confidently to the combat.”

The Union generals were also leading their men confidently. Believing the rebels shattered and afraid, Grant would even fall into overconfidence, telling Lyon that “the temper of the rebel troops is such that there is but little doubt but that Corinth will fall much more easily than Donelson did.” Preparations for the Battle of Corinth had taken a couple of months, and it would not be until March 10th that Grant had moved most of his troops to Savannah, Tennessee. Meanwhile, General Lyon conferred through telegram with President Lincoln to decide on a strategy. Lyon, who had come to trust and even admire Grant, believed that the Ohioan would be able to take Corinth himself, without Buell’s help. Besides probably saving months of effort and wait, this would allow Buell to focus on liberating East Tennessee. If Buell succeeded in this objective, the Reconstruction of Tennessee could start in earnest. A preview of it was given when Lincoln appointed the fiery Unionist William G. Brownlow as Military Governor of occupied Tennessee.

Brownlow was an “honest, fearless, vociferous man” that didn’t drink, smoke or dance. The editor of the Knoxville Whig, Brownlow had earned the nickname of Fighting Parson on account of his determination. Considered “the most dangerous enemy” by many Tennessee Confederates who feared his courage and rhetoric, Brownlow wasn’t limited to mere words, for he took part in a partisan attack that burned several bridges in East Tennessee, and when Confederate authorities showed up to arrest him, he managed a daring scape to the Federal lines of General Thomas. These events made him a celebrity in the North, and a leading figure of the new Southern Unionism that Lincoln was fostering in Maryland and Kansas – fiery, determined Unionists who didn’t just love the Union, but also hated the Confederacy and the Slavocrats that led it and were committed to a complete Reconstruction of the South.

William G. Brownlow​

The personal shortcomings of Tennessee’s other prominent Unionist, Senator Andrew Johnson, made Lincoln decide to appoint Brownlow. On the surface, Johnson seemed like the better option, for he was established politician who had served as Governor of Tennessee already and also expressed contempt for slaveholders, who he believed were “not half as good as the man who earns his bread by the sweat of his brow.” But Johnson was self-absorbed, lonely and stubborn. As the only Southerner left in the Senate, he had presented resolutions to assure that the war was only for the maintenance of the Union, and though the Senate approved them at first, it later rejected them, which Johnson took as a personal insult.

The Radical actions of the Senate in following sessions further outraged Johnson, and soon enough he became a National Unionist who openly criticized the Lincoln administration and took failure to consider his more conservative measures as personal attacks. Johnson’s inherent racism also came to light, as he openly declared “Damn the Negroes, I am fighting those traitorous aristocrats, their masters,” on the Senate floor. These flaws soon became apparent to Lincoln, who finally settled on Brownlow. Partisanship also played a part, for the opposition of the National Union was hardening and the Republicans needed to stand together in response. Thus, Brownlow, a former Whig, seemed more promising that Johnson, a former Democrat and current National Unionist. However, the Brownlow regime would have to be secured by military success first.

Thus, even though East Tennessee was not a strategic priority, it became a political one, and Lyon and Grant were given the go ahead for an attack on Corinth. They would only have to wait for around 20,000 reinforcements from the Army of the Ohio, which would bolster their force to around 65,000. Grant would be leading the attack, and he proposed a bluff on the left and center of their lines before an all-out assault was launched, overrunning the Confederate right line and taking the railway hub. Sherman was trusted with the bluff, while General Charles F. Smith, who had once been Grant’s instructor at West Point but now was a trusted subordinate with a deep sense of respect for Grant, was to carry out the assault. In March 20th, Grant and his men marched forward to Corinth’s defenses, hoping for a glorious victory to follow their past successes and put an end to the rebellion in the West. But alas, as Grant was to declare later, “Providence ruled differently.”

The reason behind Providence’s change of opinion was that the stroke of genius that avoided Johnston at Dover finally arrived at Corinth. Instead of attacking Grant at Pittsburg Landing, or waiting for him like a sitting duck at Corinth, a strategy that offended his pride and his conception of the war, Johnston settled for a mixed strategy, allowing Grant to come to Corinth and attacking him after the initial Union attack had been repealed. That attack finally came in a rainy day on March 22nd, when, after a couple of days of skirmishes, Grant’s troops went forward. The idyllic forests near Corinth, which an Iowa soldier described as “delightful scenery, fit for a gigantic picnic”, soon became the scenery of one of the war’s most brutal battles, pitying 65,000 Yankees against 45,000 rebels.

As planned, Sherman buffed along the Confederacy’s left and center. But Johnston refused to take the bait, and instead engaged in much the same theatrics that had dazzled McClellan at Annapolis, such as dressing scarecrows in grey uniforms or using Quaker guns. It’s doubtful whether Sherman fell for such tricks, but since he had only been tasked with buffing and not with attacking, Sherman only launched a minor attack that Johnston’s defenses were able to withstand. Ultimately, most of the rebels remained in the Confederate right, where Smith led the attack. Soon enough, the battle degenerated into a “free-for-all of death in which brute force trumped tactical subtleties.” Yankee soldiers showed their pluck by fearless assaults upon the rebel positions, and in turn the Southerners answered with courage and endurance, resisting all attacks. When night fell, the Union Army had nothing to show for their attacks except thousands of deaths. Johnston now seized the initiative.

In the rainy night of March 23rd, Johnston’s rebel pickets advanced under the cover of the dark through a terrain they knew as well as the palms of their hands. The Federals had retreated to a small river called the Philipps Creek in March 21st, in order to gather their troops for an assault the next day. Grant did not believe a rebel counterattack possible, and indeed he decided not to build any kind of defenses or retrenchments, believing that the men “needed discipline and drill more than they did experience with the pick, shovel and axe.” Though he did warn his generals to be ready in response to reports of rebel maneuvers, he did not expect a general attack, and instead focused on what he planned to do the next day.

In respect to his breezy aptitude, historian Ron Chernow comments that “only a fine line separated immense self-confidence from egregious complacency and Grant had probably crossed it here.” Indeed, he wrote to his wife Julia saying that “in the morrow we will renew the attack on the defenses of Corinth, which I expect to be the greatest battle fought on the War. I do not feel that there is the slightest doubt about the result.” Grant was not caught completely by surprise as malicious newspapers later claimed, but Johnston and his screaming rebels did manage for once to get the drop on the Federals. When General Prentiss, legendary due to his defense of a salient at Dover, advanced as part of the renewed Union attack, he found rebel advance units near enough to hear the drums of Sherman’s men. Prentiss fell back as the rebels surged with a mighty battle cry.

Charles Fergunson Smith​

Soon enough, they emerged into Sherman’s camp, where the General and his men were having a quick breakfast before launching their attack as planned. Sherman came forward with an orderly to see what was happening – and the orderly promptly fell, shot death by a rebel musket. “My God, we’re attacked!” cried Sherman. But instead of giving into panic as opponents expected due to his reputation as a madman, Sherman coolly rallied his troops into an effective defense line. “The next twelve hours proved to be the turning point of his life,” says historian James McPherson, “what he learned that day at Philipps Creek—about war and about himself— helped to make him one of the North's premier generals.” Soon enough, Johnston had committed all of his six divisions to the battle, while Grant in turn concentrated all his seven in a second bloody slog. By midafternoon, it seemed like the rebels would triumph, for they had managed to drive back the Union lines at least two miles.

But just like in Dover, Grant refused to retreat. Whereas a timid Easterner might have decided to flee after such a showing by the Confederates, Grant resolved to fight it out. The terrible casualties meant that night fell upon a horrible scene, of thousands of wounded men who suffered under the rain, unable to find any kind of solace for thunder and shells kept them awake. “This night of horrors will haunt me to my grave”, commented one of the Confederates who had to lay in mud and blood. Always cool under fire, Grant seemed insensible to the butchery around him, but in reality, he keenly felt the plight of his men. He was repealed by the sight of human suffering and the bloody carnage of the makeshift Union hospital, where amputated limbs were stacked in big stinking piles. A man who was so disgusted by blood that he could only eat meat burned to a crisp, Grant sought refuge from the rain in a hay bed under a tree.

Sherman joined him there, finding him wrapped in a greatcoat and chewing a cigar. “Well, Grant, we’ve had the devil’s own day, haven’t we?”, Sherman said. “Yes,” replied Grant. “Lick’em tomorrow though”. Johnston, who once again shared his men’s discomfort by sleeping under a simple tent instead of Sherman’s comfortable headquarters, which he turned into a hospital, was decided to prevent his. A “vigorous, inspirational presence to his men”, Johnston itched for more battle and martial glory, but he recognized that in having driven Grant back from Corinth’s defenses and securing the important railway hub, he had already achieved a victory. But it was not the total victory he sought. Realizing how weary his soldiers were, Johnston decided to remain in the defensive the next day. By then he already knew Grant well enough to predict that he would attack at daybreak. And indeed, Grant ordered an attack at 4 a.m., remarking that “it is always a great advantage to be the attacking party. We must fire the first gun tomorrow morning.”

Consequently, in March 24th, at first light, Grant went forward. This time, the Federals gained the advantage, retaking the territory they had lost and driving the rebels back to their original defenses near the forests of Corinth, now covered by dense smoke. The rebels were unable to make a stand, but Johnston didn’t expect them to. Soon enough, he and his men retreated back to Corinth. After three days of battle, and with losses of 16,000 men in the Union side and 10,000 for the Confederacy, the result was status quo – Grant camped just outside Corinth, but the city still being in Confederate hands. Since Grant’s objective was taking Corinth, while Johnston’s was defending it, the battle can only be considered a Confederate victory. "After a fierce struggle of three days, thanks be to the Almighty, our troops have gained a complete victory, gloriously defending Corinth,” Johnston reported to Richmond.

The Battles of Corinth and Philipps’s Creek only continued the pattern of bloody fighting started by Dover and continued by the Second Maryland Campaign. They did much to give their final blow to the romantic innocence that characterized the first year of the war. While both Johnny Reb and Billy Yank had seen the war as a glorious and short endeavor, they were now cured of war, as Sherman remarked. Coming so soon after the Second Maryland Campaign, Corinth finally destroyed the conception of the war as a limited one and definitely set the country on the path towards a total war, one that sought the complete destruction of the enemy’s will and capacity to fight.

Both Grant and Sherman would be the main leaders of this new kind of war. Like a soldier who had said that the war would be over in just six more months but now prepared to “continue in my country's service until this rebellion is put down, should it be ten years”, Grant also realized that the war could not be ended with just a gigantic battle, but with “complete conquest.” Though newspapers begged to differ, for him Corinth had been a victory. “It would have set this war back six months to have failed and would have caused the necessity of raising . . . a new Army”, he declared, reflecting upon the consequences of complete Confederate success. But for most people, Corinth had been a failure, since the railway hub remained under Confederate control.

The Battle of Corinth​

Another contemporary draw did little to improve the moral of the Union, when the iron behemoths CSS Virginia and USS Monitor faced each other at Hampton Roads. The CSS Virginia was built with the engines of the old USS Merrimack, captured by the Confederates soon after Virginia seceded. Those engines were old and had even been slated for replacement; nonetheless, they would have to do for the Confederacy was unable to build any engines herself. Covered with two layers of iron plate put at an angle so that enemy projectiles would ricochet, the Virginia was a formidable ship, even if it was slow and “so unmaneuverable that a 180-degree turn took half an hour”. The Virginia, also, was unable to operate in either shallow water or the open seas. But still, Southerners staked great hopes on their first Ironclad, as a secret weapon that would allow them to break the harmful blockade that so constricted them.

In response to reports of this rebel superweapon, Congress directed the construction of three proto-ironclads in August 3rd, 1861. Secretary of the Navy Welles, who at first was reluctant to experiment, set a board to examine several proposals. Jon Ericsson, the “irascible genius of marine engineering” known for several innovations, at first refused to submit a design, but he was finally convinced to by a friend. Aside from an iron plate that protected the vital machinery of the ship, Ericsson’s proposal, which resembled a giant raft, incorporated a revolving turret which “along with the shallow draft ( 1 1 feet), light displacement ( 1 , 2 0 0 tons, about onefourth of the Virginia's displacement), and eight-knot speed would give Ericsson's ship maneuverability and versatility”. Overcoming early skepticism, Ericsson managed to complete his Ironclad two weeks before the Confederates completed theirs, despite the fact that the development of the Virginia had started at least three months earlier. Christened the Monitor, the new ship would have no time for tests, for its help was urgently needed in Hampton Roads, where the Virginia was wreaking havoc.

On March 8th, the Virginia sailed for its test run, only to find the Union ships Minnesota, Roanoke, St. Lawrence, Congress, and Cumberland guarding the mouth of the James River at Hampton Roads. All those ships, totaling 219 guns and including two steam frigates and three sailing ships, had been alerted that the mighty Virginia was ready to sail, and they were decided to stop it. But the Virginia would soon enough show that Ironclads had made simple steam ships obsolete. Indeed, the guns of the Cumberland and Congress had “no more effect than peas from a pop-gun”, simply bouncing off the Virginia’s plating. In reality, the guns did manage to knock over at least two guns and damage the smokestack. But no gun managed to penetrate its armor, and the rebel iron beast managed to sink the Cumberland, blow the Congress up, and force the Minnesota to run aground. Thus ended “the worst day in the eighty-six-year history of the U. S. navy”, which took 2 ships and 240 Yankee sailors.

But the next day, and after fighting a storm on its way from Brooklyn, the Monitor arrived to face the Virginia. The Monitor, fast and easy to maneuver, was able to circle the Virgnia “like a fice dog”, hurling shots upon her all the while. A fierce battle developed:

For two hours the ironclads slugged it out. Neither could punch through the other's armor, though the Monitor's heavy shot cracked the Virginias outside plate at several places. At one point the southern ship grounded. As the shallower-draft Monitor closed in, many aboard the Virginia thought they were finished. But she broke loose and continued the fight, trying without success to ram the Monitor. By this time the Virginias wheezy engines were barely functioning, and one of her lieutenants found her "as unwieldly as Noah's Ark." The Monitor in turn tried to ram the Virginia's stern to disable her rudder or propeller, but just missed. Soon after this a shell from the Virginia struck the Monitors pilot house, wounding her captain. The Union ship stopped fighting briefly; the Virginia, in danger of running aground again, steamed back toward Norfolk. Each crew thought they had won the battle, but in truth it was a draw. The exhausted men on both sides ceased fighting—almost, it seemed, by mutual consent.​

The duel of the Ironclad was so impressive that the London Times would comment that “there is not now a ship in the English navy apart from these two [Britain’s experimental ironclads Warrior and Ironside] that it would not be madness to trust to an engagement with that little Monitor.” Both iron giants would warily eye each other, instead of fighting. But their legendary duel would also contribute to a further radicalization of the war effort in the seas as well as in land, and start a Revolution in terms of naval warfare – no longer the wooden ships of Nelson, but iron behemoths would patrol the seas and battle to control them. During the Civil War proper, this Revolution would be evident in the use of Ironclads by both sides, a total of 21 by the Confederacy and 58 by the Union, though for the most part wood warships remained the main enforcers of the blockade.

Battle of Hampton Roads​

A couple of months later, the perception that wooden ships were obsolete was reinforced by the failure to capture New Orleans. Under the command of David G. Farragut, a sixty-year-old who had first gone to sea at the tender age of nine, a Union task force and around 15,000 men commanded by General Burnside approached New Orleans. By early April, Farragut had managed to reach the forts that protected that important city, and when that failed to subdue them completely, Farragut daringly ran the gauntlet and created an opening by cutting a chain. On April 24th, Farragut’s warships penetrated the river, but there they faced the Ironclad CSS Louisiana, which, fortunately for the rebels, had just been finished. President Breckinridge had pushed for its completition after seeing the success of the Virginia and being forced to remove troops from New Orleans to reinforce Johnston. He had also managed to kept this under wraps, so the appearance of a second rebel iron monster was indeed a surprise for the Union warships. Despite heavy bombardment, the Louisiana resisted, and finally the rebels managed to repulse the Union assault – for the time being.

Three draws that had accomplished nothing in the West joined inaction in the East to cause a downturn in Union morale. The great victory Lincoln had hoped for had not materialized at Corinth, Hampton Roads, or New Orleans, and the Emancipation Proclamation remained in his desk. These events did much to improve Southern morale, which had sagged extremely low after Second Maryland and Dover. The rebels would indeed need this morale boost, for it was in June, 1862, that McClellan and the Army of the Susquehanna finally marched forward, with the intention of giving the final blow to the rebellion.

 

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Following the Second Maryland Campaign, General George B. McClellan was called to Philadelphia to face the Committee on the Conduct of War, which wished to inquire why he had failed to energetically follow up McDowell’s successes and break out of Annapolis. Republican Senators, fed up due to lack of success and inaction, sharply attacked the Young Napoleon. When McClellan explained that he wanted secure supply lines and a route of evacuation should the rebels manage to overwhelm him with their supposedly superior numbers, the Radical Zachariah Chandler of Michigan pointedly replied “If I understand you correctly, before you strike the rebels you want to be sure of plenty of room so that you can run in case they strike back?” Senator Ben Wade sardonically added that McClellan wanted that in case he gets scared.

McClellan promptly launched into a winded speech about the art of war and the necessity of supply lines and evacuation routes. After he finished, Wade simply told him that what the people wanted and needed was “a short and decisive campaign”. McClellan then left, and although he told a friend that Wade had been courteous and that the Committee was “anxious to sustain him, and to cooperate”, the reality was other. Indeed, after Wade asked him what he thought of the “science of generalship”, Chandler frankly admitted that he did not know much, “but it seems to me that this is infernal, unmitigated cowardice”.

Lincoln probably agreed. The months between March and June, 1862 represented his low point as commander in chief. During these months, the only major Union actions ended in defeat: Grant failed to take Corinth, Farragut to take New Orleans, and both Buell and McClellan refused to act. The Emancipation Proclamation remained in a drawer. His messages to his generals reflect Lincoln’s profound discouragement. He practically begged Buell to move into East Tennessee, where “our friends . . . are being hanged and driven to despair, and even now, I fear, are thinking of taking rebel arms for personal protection. In this we lose the most valuable stake we have in the South.” Buell’s failure to do so “disappoints and distresses me”. Grant also had to deal with a barrage of criticism following the Battle of Corinth, and a weary Lincoln seemed less eager to defend him.

Nonetheless, the greatest sign of Lincoln’s despairing mood is his comment to Quartermaster General Montgomery Meigs. “General, what shall I do?”, the President said, “The people are impatient; Chase has no money… No general will act. The bottom is out of the tub. What shall I do?” Indeed, what should he do? McClellan, again showing his timid behavior, perhaps afraid of tarnishing his reputation by defeat, refused to move until meticulous preparations were set in place. This earned the ire of Congressional Republicans, who had hoped that McClellan could live up to his vainglorious promises and, as a Radical newspaper had once predicted, “infuse vigor, system, honesty, and fight into the service.” But the image of McClellan as God’s instrument to save the Union, which partially appeared as a reaction to McDowell’s supposed slowness, was crumbling away.

Republicans had once expressed similar impatience with McDowell, but the fallen general’s delay was often well-founded, and though neither of his campaigns were spectacular successes per se, he had achieved something, retaking Baltimore and setting the stage for a campaign for Washington. But McClellan seemed to simply differ, always asking for more troops and expressing fears of secret rebel legions. " 'Young Napoleon' is going down as fast as he went up," observed an Indiana Republican, and indeed, people who had once supported McClellan now vilified him. A bitter press started to assail him more harshly as well. Perhaps the most damaging fact was that McClellan’s relationship with the Administration was now strained.

In special, Secretary of War Stanton and McClellan quickly grew to detest each other. Stanton was growing closer to the Radical Republicans, and he shared their vision of McClellan as a coward and wanted the war to be pursued with more vigor. “We have had no war. We have not even been playing war . . . this army has got to fight or run away . . . the champagne and oysters on Havre de Grace must be stopped”, he declared. Whereas McClellan had at first been delighted with Stanton’s appointment, saying it was “a most unexpected piece of good fortune”, now he denounced Stanton as “without exception the vilest man I ever knew”, a traitor “willing to sacrifice the country & its army for personal spite, allied with abolitionist hell hounds.”

Zachariah Chandler​

McClellan’s relationship with the President was also deteriorating. At first Lincoln was willing to give McClellan an opportunity. When the General asked that the President protect him from public pressure that would “push me and this noble army into hasty and disastrous action,” Lincoln assured him that McClellan would have his support, though he added that the demands of Republican politicians were "a reality, and must be taken into account”. But soon enough, Lincoln was convinced that he needed to “take these army matters in his own hands”. The main factors behind this were the fact that Lincoln’s confidence on professional military men had been eroded, thus he was more willing to assert himself, and also that he did not believe McClellan’s reports of Confederate numbers anymore, which was mostly due to the Annapolis disaster.

The opinion of the Committee of War, which declared that the Commander in chief “must, by law, command” and not continue “this injurious deference to subordinates”, spurned Lincoln into action. Saying that he “would like to borrow the Army of the Susquehanna, if General McClellan would not use it”, Lincoln drafted Special Orders No1 and No2 on April 2nd. These orders called on the “Land and Naval forces” to move against the “insurgent armies” before or on June 14th – the anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill. Lincoln then summoned McClellan to an informal council of war, and inquired for his plans of action against the rebel army. Sullen and almost insubordinate because he felt attacked, McClellan simply declared that “the case was so clear a blind man could see it”, and, he whispered to Meigs, he feared Lincoln would leak his plans to the press if they were revealed.

By then, McClellan had formed a thoroughly negative opinion of the President and the entire Administration. "I can't tell you how disgusted I am becoming with these wretched politicians,” he wrote to his wife, adding several denunciations of the Cabinet members that culminated with an attack on Lincoln himself as “nothing more than a well meaning baboon . . . 'the original gorilla.'” Nonetheless, and as a response to Lincoln’s special orders, McClellan finally submitted a memorandum detailing his plans for the campaign for Washington. McClellan advocated for loading the Army of the Susquehanna into ships and then going up the Potomac to Washington, thus bypassing Johnston’s supposed impenetrable defenses and many small streams. This would, he argued, break the ineffective and costly pattern McDowell had established of advancing a few miles, fighting a bloody battle, and then setting to rest for months until the Army was ready to do it again.

More than anything, the plan revealed McClellan’s aversion to a decisive battle and the fact that he still considered the war to be one of maneuver, where the capture of enemy cities mattered more than beating enemy armies. Indeed, McClellan believed that the Union could not destroy the Confederate Army outright, and even if it did, taking Washington would take many months of “difficult and tedious” marches, and then going to Richmond would take many more. Capturing Washington, and ostensibly then Richmond, through McClellan’s plan would save thousands of lives and protect Virginia and Maryland from destruction, thus leaving open the possibility for peaceful settlement and the restauration of the Union as it was. In a climate where Radical Republicanism seemed ascendant, these goals were dear to McClellan’s heart. The plan also had the added benefit of providing a “perfectly safe retreat” should the Army of the Susquehanna be bested by the rebels.

But political and military realities were against McClellan. Lincoln favored an advance along the railroad to Washington. It was true that it was perpendicular to several small rivieres, but Beltsville, the headquarters of the Army of the Susquehanna, was only 12 miles away from Washington, and the railroad provided an easy path for invasion, supply, and, if absolutely necessary, retreat. Halleck and Stanton both favored Lincoln’s plan, the greatest benefit being that a successful battle would end with the Confederates with their backs to the Potomac, thus assuring their destruction. Moreover, McClellan plan would leave nothing but a few regiments between the Confederates and Baltimore, thus presumably they would be able to strike against the North. This quick, aggressive campaign against Washington would cripple the rebels, retake Washington, and force what remained of the Confederate Army to Richmond, thus completely liberating Maryland.

This plan was also more practicable because the railroad provided easy transportation. Daniel McCallum, superintendent of the U.S. Military Rail Roads, is to thank for this. This organization had been established by Stanton in order to execute the Congressional provisions that allowed the President to take over any railroad “when in his judgment the public safety may require it.” In the North, Stanton mostly used this as a way to coerce Northern railroads into providing fair rates and priority for the military. But in the occupied South, “the government went into the railroad business on a large scale”, starting on January 1862, when Congress approved the Act. The U.S.M.R.R. took over many railroads, built miles more, and maintained them against rebel raids. In Maryland, the maintenance of the Washington Railroad was tasked to Herman Haupt, the “war’s wizard of railroading.”

Herman Haupt​

Similar to Stanton in his brusque but extremely capable personality, Haupt brought order out of the chaos of Virginia’s and Maryland’s railroads, but his greatest achievement was his capacity to rebuild destroyed rails in record time. His corps of engineers was able to “build bridges quicker than the Rebs can burn them down”, and even when he lacked material and human resources, Haupt was able to create wonders, such as building a rail with green logs with inexperienced soldiers in less than two weeks. Lincoln was so awed that he pronounced it “the most remarkable structure that human eyes ever rested upon. That man, Haupt, has built a bridge . . . over which loaded trains are running every hour, and upon my word, gentlemen, there is nothing in it but beanpoles and cornstalks." As in other areas of the war, the logistical power and human talent of the Union overwhelmed the poor capacity of the rebels. Soon enough, Haupt had rebuilt all the railroads and bridges the rebels had burned in their retreat, and the Washington railroad became a solid route for the next campaign.

With that in mind, Lincoln then pointed out that McClellan’s plan would “involve a greatly larger expenditure of time, and money, than mine”, and under the political circumstances of the time, the Union could afford neither. The sinews of war must be considered separately; suffice it to say that the Union was in a bad economic shape because the war seemed to have no end in sight and this eroded the confidence of investors in bonds and the finances of the Treasury. Time was a more pressing matter. After more than a year, the capital and Harpers Ferry both remained in the hands of the enemy, and that constituted a constant humiliation for the nation in general and the Administration in special. If the rebels in Washington were driven away, the ones in Harpers Ferry could hardly make a stand, and both groups would be forced to retreat. But although both places had a high value, strategic, significative and political, for Lincoln the most important objective was destroying the enemy forces.

Refusing to defer to the supposed professionals any longer, Lincoln overrode McClellan and ordered that his plan for a direct attack on Washington be carried out. However, Lincoln wished to still cooperate with McClellan, and thus, to both soother the General’s ego and provide a blueprint for future operations, they settled on a direct attack against Washington first, and then an amphibious operation against Richmond. The Richmond Plan was markedly similar. It entailed loading up the Army into boats and steaming up the York River to the town of West Point, Virginia, under 40 miles away from the Confederate capital. In truth, Lincoln was also skeptical about the York Plan, but he recognized that if he refused to go along, McClellan would resign, thus resulting in “fatal demoralization within our ranks and, perhaps more fatally, further delay.” It seems that Lincoln also acquiesced because he had no one with whom he could replace McClellan.

The Committee on the Conduct of War recommended their new darling, Frémont, but his military failure and political blunders had tarnished his reputation. At one point, Lincoln summoned the 63-year-old Ethan Allen Hitchcock, grandson of the Revolutionary War hero Ethan Allen, to Philadelphia, to inquire if he wanted to replace McClellan as commander of the Army of the Susquehanna. Hitchcock had served with distinction for many years until a spat with Jefferson Davis, who served as Secretary of War then of US and now of the Confederacy, made him resign. Though Hitchcock said he “felt positively sick” about McClellan’s actions, he declined the command on the grounds of his age and health. No other options presented themselves – Grant, the only general who had achieved actual victories, was busy in Corinth; Burnside was working with Farragut to take New Orleans; and though Lincoln considered bringing John Pope to Maryland as a way to export Western puck, he ultimately decided against it because Pope hadn’t distinguished himself yet.

Lincoln, however, did heed the Committee’s recommendation to reorganize the Army of the Susquehanna into four corps. Previously, there were 9 divisions that had reported directly to McDowell, and the Annapolis Corps, under McClellan. Now, all 12 divisions answered directly to McClellan, and most of them were now staffed with his supporters. Lincoln and many others were offended by “McClellan’s purge”, which aside from disrespecting McDowell’s memory, had filled the ranks with former Democrats and Chesnuts. Perhaps this was inevitable – since the Democrats had dominated Congress, the great majority of West Point recruits were Democratic in allegiance. But amidst rumors that McClellan actually didn’t intend to crush the rebellion and whispers of traitors within the Army, reorganization was urgently needed. Most of the generals who would become corps commanders under the new scheme would be Republicans as well, though this was because of their seniority, rather than their partisan inclinations.

John Pope​

Consequently, Lincoln issued an order reorganizing the Army of the Susquehanna into four corps. To protect his “left political flank”, he also brought Frémont to command a new Army in Kanawha. Though McClellan fumed about these decisions, the important fact was that the York Plan had been approved, and thus he suddenly changed his tune and now declared that “The President is all right—he is my strongest friend.” The plan, in McClellan’s mind, would result in a crushing victory over the rebels, by forcing them to abandon their defenses and fight in the terrain McClellan had chosen. Its success was “as certain by all the chances of war”, and it would result in the evacuation of Virginia, Tennessee and North Carolina. Then a Union juggernaut would be able to advance into the Deep South. But first, Washington had to be liberated.

The task of preventing this fell on the shoulders of Joseph E. Johnston. Now that Beauregard had been removed, Johnston was given command of the Army of Northern Virginia. Confederate success at repealing Union attacks at Corinth and New Orleans had imbued sullen Southerners with renewed hope, however, as in the North, the Virginia theater obtained the lion’s share of public attention. The Confederate prospects still seemed bleak, and Johnston, who like McClellan feared a failure that would destroy his reputation, seemed ready to give up Washington and retreat to Richmond. The decision, Breckinridge conceded, was militarily sound, but coming after many reverses it would be politically disastrous. Robert E. Lee, who Breckinridge had brought as a military adviser, and Secretary of War Davis concurred, and the President ordered Johnston to defend Washington with all the means at his disposal.

Yet, all the Confederate leaders recognized their present weakness. “Events have cast on our arms and our hopes the gloomiest shadows,” wrote Davis, and Breckenridge tended to agree. Decided to prevent the destruction of his army and his Confederacy, Breckenridge made careful preparations to allow Johnston to safely retreat should the situation turn for the worse – thus, preventing the army from being driven with their backs to the Potomac as Lincoln wanted. But, as already detailed, Breckinridge’s confidence of Johnston had suffered. That’s why Lee had been brought to Richmond. Deploring the “politicians, newspapers, and uneducated officers” who had denigrated Lee for “failing at a task that no man could have succeeded at”, Breckenridge expressed his faith in Lee. Davis’ opinion mattered a lot as well, since, unlike Beauregard or Johnston, Davis trusted Lee.

In March, 1862, Breckinridge relieved Johnston of his position as General in-chief, writing the General that this decision “does not reflect any lack of confidence in you, or express any waning of the warm sentiments with which the country and I regard you,” but was rather a measure designed to allow Johnston to “concentrate on the defense of our territory, and carry our arms to further victories.” For the moment, Johnston, who had always wanted to take field command of the main Confederate army, was gratified enough that he did not raise any protest. Lee was not promoted to the position, partly because Breckinridge wanted to test him first, and also due to political problems within the Confederate Congress.

Indeed, in 1862 Congress had submitted a bill to define more clearly the office of General in-chief. The title was borrowed from its US equivalent, and Breckinridge had created it because he believed he needed someone to oversee Confederate mobilization, but it was not defined by law. In order to grant the position more power, Breckinridge had pushed for a bill, but his enemies in Congress amended it and also combined it with the bill that would grant Beauregard the rank of Confederate Marshal. The resulting bill would not only allow the General in-chief to take command of any army without the President’s authorization, but it would also estipulate that Beauregard would be superior to the General in-chief by virtue of his new rank. Breckenridge could not accept such a bill, and when the Congress passed it, he vetoed it.

Joseph E. Brown​

The debacle contributed to the polarization of the Confederate Congress, and indeed the Confederacy as a whole, into two distinct political parties: a pro-administration one, that came to be known as Nationalists, and an anti-administration one, who called themselves the Constitutionalists but quickly came to be denigrated as Reconstructionists or Tories. At first, Confederates had gloried on their lack of formal political parties. This was because by 1860 the South had effectively become a one-party region under the complete control of the Democrats, and also the need to create a united front for secession. Thus, the members of the First Congress were congratulated because "the spirit of party has never shown itself for an instant in your deliberations." But Breckenridge recognized that political parties were a way to channel support from the public for his policies and invoke the whip of Party discipline in order to make politicians fall in line.

Coming from one of the few states where other parties retained strength, mainly the Constitutional Union as a form of revived Whiggery, Breckinridge believed that in order to lend vitality to his administration and defeat enemies who opposed him due to factional or personal reasons, he needed to create an effective political party. Many months more would pass before Breckinridge formally created the National Party, but signs of change abounded, as he started to exercise his patronage powers to fill the ranks of the Army and the Bureaucracy with his supporters. The fact that he had been the 1860 Presidential candidate helped, for the die-hard supporters who had campaigned for him were eager to return to the fray. “Those who, merely for spite or for the callous expectation of political advantage, attack our beloved President shall receive no mercy or charity from us,” declared one of these loyalists.

Breckinridge was careful not to antagonize those that opposed his policies, and the fact that he could not run for reelection once his six-year term expired probably prevented the full realization of a partisan system, but Breckinridge had by then started to rally supporters around himself in a pro-war, pro-administration, pro-centralized power Party. The Nationalists attracted mostly those who felt strong patriotism for the Confederate cause, such as Robert E. Lee, and those who realized the need of “centralized, decisive action . . . in the face of armies vastly superior in numbers”, like Davis or Senator Louis Wigfall. The Nationalists were, for the most part, stalwart Democrats, and though they ranged from moderates like Breckinridge to fire-eaters, most shared a common commitment to achieving Confederate independence by all means necessary, even if it was necessary to violate States Rights or civil liberties.

The first test of this new Party was a second vote for the General in-chief bill. This time, Breckinridge brought patronage and the expectation of future favors to bear. The President’s methods were denounced as “profoundly corrupt . . . a bad faith effort to compel politicians to betray their constituents and their country, yielding our rights for some loaves and fishes”. But they bore results, and the final bill created a General in-chief position that was completely subordinate to the President, ascended Beauregard to Marshal but made the rank completely symbolical, and included a highly suggestive passage regarding the war powers of the President: “the Chief Executive shall have the exclusive power to command the armies of the Confederate States, and shall be able to take any action he may regard as necessary for the public good, the welfare of the people, and the successful prosecution of the war.”

This outraged the President’s opponents. Former Whigs formed the greatest basis of opposition. After the Whig Party had died in 1854, most Whigs had turned towards the Democrats in order to protect slavery and States Rights, but many of them found it hard to completely relinquish their former allegiance, and wanted compromise and moderation. The myth of the moderate Southern Whig would plague the Republican Party and its efforts at Reconstruction, since they were as committed to Confederate independence, white supremacy and slavery as their opponents. Their main division was over methods, not goals, and they consistently opposed the Administration and its efforts to centralize power for the effective prosecution of the war. The most bitter opposition was aroused over the Conscription Act.

The Confederate States Congress​

The Confederate Armies were running out of men due to the rigors of war, and the simple fact that it did not seem to be such a glorious enterprise anymore. After Lincoln’s first volunteer call had been for three years of service, Breckinridge had pushed for a law extending the service of the first Confederate volunteers, who had only enlisted for a year. At first, the Congress rejected this solution and instead tried to entice men to reenlist by granting then bounties, a 60-day furlough, and the right to form new regiments and choose new officers. Breckinridge quickly realized just how terrible the law could be, declaring that “any Yankee law would be hardly worse for the morale of our armies and the welfare of our country”. Indeed, furloughs would weaken the army just as much, and allowing for the creation of new regiments would result in fatal disorganization. Lee, too, declared it “highly disastrous”, and proposed a draft instead. Davis at first considered that extending the service would be a breach of contract, but he came around as well. Thus, in September 1861, in the immediate aftermath of Baltimore, the Confederate Congress extended the service of the one-year volunteers.

But by April 1862, Breckinridge had become convinced that a stronger measure was needed. On April 11th, 1862, Breckinridge sent a message to Congress asking for the conscription of all able white men, between 18 and 35, for three-years of service. More than two thirds of the Congressmen voted in favor of the first Conscription law in American history, though many advocates of States Rights cried out against the measure. For example, Governor Joseph Brown of Georgia denounced it as a “dangerous usurpation by Congress of the reserved rights of the States” that was “at war with all the principles for which Georgia entered into the revolution.” A soldier called it “so gross a usurpation of authority . . . [that it] would go far to make me renounce my allegiance", and a comrade agree that "when we hear men comparing the despotism of the Confederacy with that of the Lincoln government—something must be wrong”. Yet, Breckinridge considered it essential for Confederate survival, especially when McClellan finally moved forward on June 22nd, 1862.

As proposed by Lincoln, the plan called for an advance from Beltsville to Washington. Johnston decided to make a stand in the Anacostia River, in a part where this tributary of the Potomac forked into two branches. The river ran towards Washington, thus providing an easy venue for invasion. Entrenchment behind the West Branch of the Anacostia seemed the Confederates’ only hope. As it in other battles of the war, the Federals and the Rebels know the ensuing battle with different names – Anacostia for the Union, Bladensburg for the Confederacy. As he often did, McClellan issued a Napoleonic declaration, hoping to boast the morale of the soldiers who idolized him. “For a long time I have kept you inactive,” he said, “but not without purpose; you were to be disciplined, armed and instructed . . . A manly fight on the decisive battlefield is ahead of us, but I shall watch over you, as a parent over his children . . . I know I can trust you to save our country, and, if necessary, follow me to our graves, for our righteous cause.”

Against McClellan’s 120,000 Federals, Johnston was able to field near 70,000 men. Unbeknownst to the Yankees, Harpers Ferry had only a small skeleton force. Instead of attacking immediately, McClellan stopped in Bladensburg and gathered his forces for a well-calculated assault the next day. Since the battlefield was an area of woods with several small lagoons, the main assault would have to go through the bridge of the Washington Railroad – a structure that would be immortalized as the Bloody Bridge. Rebels had, of course, destroyed the original bridge, but Union engineers had built a replacement in record time, without being harassed by Johnston, who thought an attack imminent. Two of the corps were to cross the bridge, while a corps in the Union left was going to try to ford the river in a less woody area. Even if it failed, it would be able to create a distraction, thus sowing doubt and disorganization within the rebel ranks. A corps was held back in reserve, to exploit any breakthrough. Though McClellan was still under the delusion that Confederate numbers matched his at the very least, he expected that General Fitz John Porter, his protégé and the one tasked with spearheading the attack, would be able to roll up the Confederate defenses. After some preparation, the attack started early on the morning of June 25th.

The theater of operations​

But instead of all corps going forward on a massive attack, McClellan launched the attacks on three stages, one corps after the other. Fortunately for the Federals, the battles were “phenomenally mismanaged” by Johnston. For one, he was unable to see the talents of Stonewall Jackson, who, despite the fame he had acquired for his highly mobile campaign during Second Maryland, was once again relegated to defense, a role that ill-suited the Virginian. Second, he also launched his attacks in piecemeal style. Johnston did achieve a small success by sending troops to ford the river on the Confederate right, a feat they could achieve because they were guided by scouts who knew the territory well. But Yankees under the command of Edwin “Bull” Sumner were able to drive them back, though McClellan, cautious as ever, kept Sumner from fording the river as well to follow up his attack.

The fighting around the Anacostia was some of the harshest in the war. Most of the men were forced to fight “in small clusters amid thick woods and flooded clearings”. If they fell wounded, they had to be propped up against fences or stumps, because otherwise they would sink deep into the mud. Soldiers, both Confederate and Union, fought desperately. Despite how editors and generals proclaimed that the army was “eager to be led against the enemy”, most soldiers admitted that they were actually terrified, and what kept them in their lines was the “moral fear of turning back”, and the painful awareness that they would be betraying their comrades. Thus, and despite their fears, regiments did not falter and went forward as ordered, and suddenly “the whole landscape for an instant turned slightly red”. This kind of “fighting madness” allowed the soldiers to fight on despite their fears. "The men are loading and firing with demonaical fury and shouting and laughing hysterically," wrote a Union officers many years later, undoubtedly remembering the images of Anacostia vividly.

The following day, the most brutal scenes of battle took place in the Bloody Bridge, where the corps of Porter and Joseph Hooker, an egotistical and aggressive man who would earn the sobriquet of Fighting Joe that day, attacked the forces of Stonewall Jackson and A. P. Hill. Convinced that no attack would take place in Harpers Ferry, the few divisions there were ordered to Anacostia, while Jeb Stuart, who had dazzled McDowell at Second Maryland, started another daring action in McClellan’s rear. For many difficult and horrifying hours, the Blue and the Gray contested the bridge. “At the end of the day,” said the young captain of the 20th Massachusetts, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., “the river was running red with our blood.” With neither commander willing to try to ford the river elsewhere, conquering the bridge became indispensable.

Finally, after the bloodiest day in American history, broken Confederate brigades fell back to Washington. Superior Union numbers and the relentless assault of the Yankee commanders resulted in heavy casualties for the Confederates, who, one observed said, “had gone down as the grass falls before the scythe”. But McClellan was shaken by the carnage, and he decided against sending General William B. Franklin’s corps to finish the job. McClellan apparently believed that Johnston held infinite reserves back for some reason, and that if he crossed the Anacostia and attacked, those hidden rebel legions would surge and finish him instead. Thus, he decided to prepare for another attack.

The final day of the battle, June 27th, Hooker attacked and managed to drive back the greybacks and establish a bridgehead on the other side. Now the Union troops were well position to launch a final, massive thrust that would drive the Confederates to the Potomac, where their destruction could be assured. A well-executed maneuver could even cut the only fords over the Potomac, thus trapping the rebels. But after two days of heavy fighting, Hooker’s divisions were unable to continue. McClellan was about to send in Porter’s corps, which had had time to rest, but then Porter shook his head. "Remember, General," Porter said, "I command the last reserve of the last army of the Republic.” McClellan did not renew the assault, and despite the arrival of new reinforcements, he did nothing to help Hooker when a sudden Confederate counterattack started and saved the Confederate center from disintegration.

Joseph Hooker​

Finally, night fell. The casualties were actually less than those of Second Maryland: 15,000 in the Confederate side, and 14,000 in the Union side. The combined total of fatalities from both armies was around 8,000. Losses of more than 50% were reported on several Southern regiments, and there was little hope of being able to counterattack. Realizing that any concentrated Union assault could probably destroy them, the rebels yielded to the inevitable, and during the night they evacuated their positions and retreated several miles to the Manassas Junction, near another small stream named Bull Run. Breckenridge’s magnificient organization allowed them to retreat without losing any of the supplies that the Confederacy could ill-afford. McClellan feebly tried to pursuit, but Jeb Stuart was able to easily hold him at bay. The rebel army had, once again, escaped to fight another day. But the facts were clear – Washington was now in Union hands.

“Maryland is entirely freed from the presence of the enemy, who has been driven across the Potomac,” McClellan wired to Philadelphia. “The National Capital has been retaken by our arms.” This was the victory the Northern people had waited for, and, after a year, Washington was finally liberated from the “odious presence of the slaveholder crew.” Declaring that “Waterloo is eclipsed”, the people celebrated jubilantly. A crowd of serenaders approached Lincoln in Philadelphia, and the President declared with just pride that the “gigantic Rebellion”, made to overthrow the principle that “all men are created equal” was dealt a hard blow.

In hindsight, the Battle of Anacostia doesn’t seem like a giant success, mainly because McClellan failed to pursue Johnston across the Potomac and actually dealt the final blow to the Rebellion as he had promised. He had only intended to “drive the enemy from our soil”, which made Lincoln exclaim that “the whole country is our soil”. Indeed, the strategic effect of Anacostia seems to be low, since the Confederate army was still intact and able, and there were still many miles and many rivers between the Army of the Susquehanna and Richmond. McClellan wanted to execute the York Plan, which promised to capture Richmond quickly, but the preparations for the plan definitely would not be quick. Furthermore, Anacostia only reinforced McClellan’s arrogance, and this meant that when he launched his next campaign he was completely assured of his own success, a hubris that would lead the Union to disaster.

Battle of Anacostia​

Still, the liberation of Washington was of extremely symbolic and sentimental importance, and it had far reaching effects for the entire war. On the Confederate side, Breckinridge finally had had enough. The President dismissed Johnston and appointed Lee as commander of the Army of Northern Virginia, and he also brought James Longstreet from North Carolina to Richmond. The most important development, however, is that Lincoln finally issued the Emancipation Proclamation. After he “fixed it up a little”, Lincoln called for the cabinet to hear it on July 1st. Once again, he read from a comedy book, before turning to business. “I think the time has come now,” he told them, “the recent successes of our arms must be followed up with this strike against the South’s pillar of strength. This is the weapon through which we will end the rebellion.”

In the Fourth of July, 1862, Lincoln entered Washington for the first time since April 19th, 1861, when he had been forced to flee the city. Only charred ruins remained, but hundreds of contrabands and many cheering Maryland Unionists gathered to receive the President. In front of the fallen White House, Lincoln announced that, in order to “end this great Civil War” and “bring back the insurgent states under the authority of the National government”, he declared that “all persons held as slaves” within any state or part of a state still in rebellion would be “then, thenceforward, and forever free,” effective July 4th, 1862. Thus, by this ”act of justice”, described as a “fit and necessary war measure for suppressing said rebellion”, Lincoln transformed the war into one for Union and Liberty.

 

[Red_Galiray]

Oh, darkies have you heard it? Have you heard the joyful news?
Uncle Abraham's gonna free us, and he'll send us where we choose!
Cause the jubilee is coming, don't ye sniff it in the air?
And Sixty-Two is the Jubilee for the darkies everywhere

Oh, the jubilee is coming, don't ye sniff it in the air?
And Sixty-Two is the Jubilee for the darkies everywhere

Ol' Massa he had heard it, don't it make him awful blue?
Won't ol' Missus be a' raving when she finds it coming true?
Reckon there'll be a dreadful shaking, such as Johnny cannot stand
Cause Kingdom come is a' moving now, and a' crawling through the land!

Oh, the jubilee is coming, don't ye sniff it in the air?
And Sixty-Two is the Jubilee for the darkies everywhere

There'll be a big skeddadle now that the kingdom is a' come
And the darkies they will holler 'til they make the country hum
Oh we bress Ol' Uncle Abraham, we bress him day and night
And pray the Lord bress the Union folks and the battle for the right

Oh, the jubilee is coming, don't ye sniff it in the air?
And Sixty-Two is the Jubilee for the darkies everywhere

-Sixty-Two is the Jubilee​

President Lincoln travelled to Washington D.C. his mood pensive. Three times had he travelled to the Federal Capital under tragic circumstances: The first time, the assassination of Lyman Trumbull had allowed him to be elected a Senator; the second, several Southern States had seceded and Civil War loomed over the United States. Now, he returned to the ruins left by one of the battles of that Civil War, which still raged on. Reminiscing of these journeys, and his escape when the rebels took the city more than a year ago, Lincoln reached Washington on the Fourth of July. In less than a year a lifetime of events had taken place, and with the end of the war still far away, more change was sure to come. Some Maryland Unionists, all of them fiery Unionists and supporters of the President, returned to the city and cheered him, while Black Contrabands timidly stood by, filled with hope for the liberation the Union Army promised.

Stopping before the ruins of the White House, Lincoln took a piece of paper from the inside of his iconic stovepipe hat. He briefly glanced at the smashed Statue of Liberty that was supposed to crown the Capitol, before starting a brief speech that was in actuality a broad declaration of the principles for which the Union fought. “We meet today in the battlefield of the Great Civil War we face, in the ruins of the capital of the Union we all cherish. The recent victory of our arms has advanced the cause for which thousands of our compatriots have given their last full measure of devotion. But the occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise -- as our case is new, so we must think anew, and act anew. The dogmas of the quiet past, are inadequate to the stormy present. We must disenthrall ourselves, and then we shall save our country.”

His high pitched but clear voice continued. “Fellow-citizens, we cannot escape history . . . The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation. We say we are for the Union. The world will not forget that we say this. We know how to save the Union. The world knows we do know how to save it. We -- even we here -- hold the power, and bear the responsibility. In giving freedom to the slave, we assure freedom to the free -- honorable alike in what we give, and what we preserve. We shall nobly save, or meanly lose, the last best hope of earth. Other means may succeed; this could not fail. This way the world will forever applaud, and God must forever bless.”

Then, Lincoln proceeded to invoke the “considerate judgment of mankind and the gracious favor of Almighty God”, a passage previously suggested by Secretary of the Treasury Chase, before announcing the Emancipation Proclamation as the policy the Union would follow from that moment on. The legalistic, boring language of the Proclamation confused the spectators for a moment, but as it became clear that this meant a war for Union and Liberty, they broke into open cheers. “Glory to God! Glory! Glory! Glory!", "Bless the Lord! The great Messiah!” cried the Contrabands, profusely thanking God and Father Abraham, while the Marylanders, convinced by then that emancipation was needed to put down the rebellion, started to sing the Battle Cry of Freedom. Some even forgot their prejudices, and Americans, Black and White alike, sung together.

Lincoln then retired to a nearby building, one of the few that were still standing after the Confederates chaotically retreated, taking everything they could and burning everything they could not. Some of his colleagues, including members of the Cabinet, were present as Lincoln wearily sat down, physically tired from the journey and emotionally tired due to the war. He picked up a pen, but his hand trembled slightly. He put it down again, observing that “all who examine the document hereafter will say ‘He hesitated.’”, and that would not do because “I never in my life felt more certain that I was doing right than I do in signing this paper…. If my name ever goes into history it will be for this act, and my whole soul is in it.” The President then took the pen and, with firm, confident handwriting, he signed the document.

A famous painting commemorating the Emancipation Proclamation​

“God Bless Abraham Lincoln!” the covers of the New York Tribune exclaimed joyously the next day, while throughout the North people held “huge rallies to celebrate the proclamation, marked by bonfires, parades with torches and transparencies.” "We shout for joy that we live to record this righteous decree," said Frederick Douglass, adding that “the cause of the slaves and the cause of the country” was now one and the same. A Pennsylvania man wrote Lincoln to tell him that “All good men upon the earth will glorify you, and all the angels in Heaven will hold jubilee,” and, in less eloquent but still heartfelt words, General Richard Oglesby called it “a great thing, perhaps the greatest thing that has occurred in this century”. Critical Radicals such as Stevens or Wade and supporters of the President such as Lovejoy or Sumner proclaimed their intention to stand “with the loyal multitudes of the North, firmly and sincerely by the side of the President.” The Proclamation, a “sublime act of justice & humanity,” thus arose all Americans to fight with renewed vigor for the Union.

This included, of course, Black Americans. Before the Emancipation Proclamation had been issued, Secretary of the Treasury Chase had asked Attorney General Speed whether “for the purposes of policy, colored men [are] citizens of the United States.” Speed then produced a document that constituted a harsh rebuke to “Dred Scottism”. First, it declared that, since the Constitution “says not one word, and furnishes not one hint, in relation to the color or to the ancestral race” of citizens, then all Black people were citizens of the United States once emancipated, thus entitled to all the privileges and protections furnished by that citizenship, which in turn “cannot be destroyed or abridged by the laws of any particular state”. Emancipated slaves were, consequently, “immediately entitled to the rights and privileges of a freeman”, and neither the Federal nor State government would have power to remand them to slavery because that “would amount to enslaving a free person.”

It’s possible that the legal foundations of the Emancipation Proclamation escaped many Blacks, but they plainly understood that in declaring emancipated slaves forever free and committing the Federal government to the protection of this liberty, the Proclamation had articulated, or at least implied, the big principles that would guide the Union throughout the rest of the war: Union and Liberty as war objectives, without which the war could not end; the creation of a national citizenship, with equality before the law regardless of color; and the creation of a benevolent national state, capable of enforcing emancipation and guaranteeing these rights. Thus, despite being founded on military necessity rather than morality, the Emancipation Proclamation provided both a basis for further attacks upon slavery and a pledge to sustain the ideals of the Declaration of Independence.

Recognizing this, Black Americans joined in the chorus of celebrations, and memorable scenes of jubilee were observed throughout the nation. In Beaufort, South Carolina, contrabands sung “the Marseillaise of the slaves”: “In that New Jerusalem, I am not afraid to die; We must fight for liberty, in that New Jerusalem.” Northern Blacks celebrated with “intense, intelligent and devout declarations”, as well as well as cheers and music, including the Year of Jubilee: “And it must be now that the Kingdom’s Coming in the Year of Jubilee!” The “mere mention” of Lincoln’s name “evoked a spontaneous benediction from the whole Congregation”, because they “believe you desire to do them justice”, wrote an abolitionist to Lincoln. In Boston, a Black Congregation cheered the news, before joining in song: “Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea, Jehovah hath triumphed, his people are free.”

“Throughout the Sunny South, all darkeys heard the proclamation” as well, a former slave reported years after the war, doubtlessly still remembering that historic moment. In a contraband camp, an elderly Black man remembered how his daughter had been sold, but now “Dey can’t sell my wife and child any more, bless de Lord!” A young Black woman named Charlotte Forten, serving as a teacher in the contraband camps of the South Carolina sea islands, thought “it all seemed … like a brilliant dream.” In Kentucky, an area excluded from the Proclamation, slaves marched shouting hurrahs for Lincoln. Even in the Deep South, areas where the Union Army had not penetrated yet, the “grapevine telegraph” informed the slaves of the coming of Emancipation. For example, slaves in Mississippi organized Lincoln’s Legal Loyal League to spread the joyful news. Reports of “insubordinate” behavior multiplied, as many slaves in areas near the theaters of war refused to continue working unless paid wages. “We have a terrible state of affairs here negroes refusing to work…”, despaired a Tennessee slaveholder.

Black slaves found out about the Emancipation Proclamation through their "grapevine telegraph."​

These slaves, far from meek victims who waited for their saviors, took an active role in the “friction and erosion” that Lincoln had warmed would fatally wreak slavery. W. E. B. Du Bois was right when he observed in his landmark History of the Second American Revolution that the United States government was merely “with perplexed and laggard steps . . . following in the footsteps of the black slave.” Black slaves, whenever they could, escaped to the Union lines, thus emancipating themselves, and further undermining the institution and the Confederacy as a whole despite the frantic efforts of the rebels to quiet the Proclamation. Even slaves who stayed behind “often demanded shorter hours, improved working conditions, and better rations”. As one citizen had predicted in a letter to Lincoln, the promise of freedom made the slaves “come to you by the 100,000,” a situation that disrupted the Southern society and economy and enormously contributed to the eventual Union victory.

Together with the Proclamation, the Lincoln Administration rescinded a policy that prohibited the enticement of slaves away from their masters. What one newspaper had called the “Revolutionary Congress” had decreed that contrabands could not be returned to their owners, but for the moment the Armies were ordered not to “entice” the slaves to run away. General Butler, for example, was ordered to “permit no interference, by the persons under your command, with the relations of persons held to service under the laws of any state”, even as he was also prohibited from returning contrabands. From the moment of the Proclamation on, the Union Army worked to actively undermine slavery by enticing slaves away from their plantations. Halleck so instructed Grant, who had dutifully followed the policy of no return and no enticement, telling him that the new policy was “to withdraw from the enemy as much productive labor as possible.” Henceforth, whenever the Union flag marched, liberty would come with them.

More than 200 War Department agents started to tour the South to bring the news to the slaves, and also to make sure Union commanders respected and enforced the Proclamation’s dispositions, which included an invitation for the slaves to flee to the Union lines and “labor faithfully for reasonable wages”. Adjutant General Lorenzo Thomas, the War Department agent in charge of overseeing the “humane and proper” treatment of contrabands and the effective implementation of the policy in the Mississippi Valley, explained the logic of the Proclamation, which would weaken the rebels and “add to our own strength. Slaves are to be encouraged to come within our lines.” Accordingly, Union generals started to issue orders to this effect, like Grant, who ordered “all negroes, teams, and cattle” found in a raid to be brought in, or General Hurlbut, who instructed a subordinate to “bring in all able-bodied negroes that choose to come.”

Consequently, by the end of 1862 Southern masters began “noting the wholesale capture of large numbers of slaves”. Soon enough even the mere approach of the Union Army resulted in the escape of dozens of slaves, while every Union raid or march liberated hundreds. “The Yankees lately made a Raid,” one Mississippian wrote, “they committed great destruction of property & carried off over 800 negroes. I begin to fear that we are not safe.” Together with the turn towards a harsher war, the new policy meant the complete subjugation of the South, and that the new aim of the Administration was for it “to be destroyed and replaced by new propositions and ideas." A Southerner ruefully acknowledged this, listing the two Yankee policies: “to arm our own Negroes against their very Masters; and entice by every means this misguided Race to assist them in their diabolical program.”

Kentucky, Maryland, Delaware and Missouri were exempted from the Emancipation Proclamation. This led some to bitterly complain that "where he has no power Mr. Lincoln will set the negroes free; where he retains power he will consider them as slaves,” as the London Times said. "This is more like a Chinaman beating his two swords together to frighten his enemy than like an earnest man pressing forward his cause”. But the idea that Lincoln did not liberate a single slave is factually wrong, for areas of Virginia, North Carolina, and the South Carolina sea islands were not exempted, and thus all slaves there were immediately emancipated. What’s more important, the Emancipation Proclamation accelerated the process of slave emancipation in the Border States, pushing them towards adopting abolition themselves, something that a military measure couldn’t have done without violating the Constitution.

For instance, a Kentucky man named Charles Hays felt compelled to liberate his slaves, and that he did, though it so disgusted him that he cursed Lincoln “for taking all you negroes away from me”, before skulking away and getting drunk while the freedmen celebrated. In Maryland, a gentleman told his slaves they were free to go if they so wished, but if they wanted to they could stay and work for him – for wages. Adopting a more paternalistic style, he gave each slave 10 dollars and told them to “Behave yourselves, work hard and trust in God, and you will get along all right. I will not hire anybody today, but tomorrow all who want to go to work will be ready when the bell rings.” Next day, all reported for duty, but now as freedmen, not slaves. Both of these examples took place in areas exempted from the Emancipation Proclamation.

Ornate copy of the Proclamation​

The Union Army once again served as an ally of freedom, for many soldiers paid no mind to the exemptions outlined in the Proclamation. When a regiment of the Army of the Susquehanna moved out of Maryland to prepare for the next campaign, they decided to help many slaves escape first. Indignant slaveowners tried to reclaim them, but they were repulsed by Union soldiers who declared they were “no slave catchers” and “treated them to a little mob law”. When the slaveholders tried again with a sheriff, the soldiers simply grabbed them, threw them into a blanket, and then threw them high into the air. One soldier wrote home of the events, relishing the image of a southern aristocrat “being tossed fifteen feet in the air, three times, by Union soldiers—northern mudsills.” The slaveholders “got no slaves”, while the Union troops left for “pleasant ride to Richmond” with “fifteen free men and women on board.”

These examples show that, as historian James Oakes says, “the proclamation increased the pressure on the Border States and extended emancipation into areas previously untouched by federal policy”. Many Americans recognized this, and thus hailed the Proclamation as an anti-slavery triumph. Moreover, the Proclamation linked Emancipation with military victory, thus committing the Army and the war effort as a whole to Emancipation and assuring that the end of the war would bring about the complete destruction of slavery in the United States. Thus, Wendell Philipps exalted it because it treated slavery as a system to be abolished, and the New York Herald declared that it inaugurated “a new epoch, which will decisively shape the future destinies of this and of every nation on the face of the globe.”

Giuseppe Garibaldi, the famous Italian republican, congratulated Lincoln, the “Heir of the thought of Christ and [John] Brown”, by telling him that “you will pass down to posterity under the name of the Emancipator! More enviable than any crown and any human treasure! An entire race of mankind yoked by selfishness to the collar of Slavery is, by you, at the price of the noblest blood of America, restored to the dignity of Manhood, to Civilization, and to Love”. A fellow revolutionary, Karl Marx, was more sober when he observed in a dispatch that “Up to now, we have witnessed only the first act of the Civil War—the constitutional waging of war. The second act, the revolutionary waging of war, is at hand.” So that such a Revolution may start in earnest, the Emancipation Proclamation also incorporated one very important measure – the enlistment of Black men as soldiers in the Union Army.

Though the Administration had allowed Black men, both free and contrabands, to serve in the Navy, and had turned a blind eye to the use of Black troops in Kansas and the quiet formation of some black regiments in the South Carolina sea islands, Lincoln remained hesitant about the idea of using Black soldiers, even Northern Free Blacks. He, for example, believed that “to arm the negroes would turn 50,000 bayonets against us that were for us.” But now he announced his intention to use this “great available and yet unavailed of, force for restoration of the Union.” “The bare sight of fifty thousand armed, and drilled black soldiers on the banks of the Mississippi, would end the rebellion at once”, the President believed. “And who doubts that we can present that sight, if we but take hold in earnest.” In the fall of 1862, the Government started to recruit thousands of Black men, starting with the formation of a “Corps d’Afrique” in the Mississippi Valley.

Congressional legislation had already included provisions that allowed the enlistment of Black Americans, the first being the Second Confiscation Act, ostensibly the legal justification for the Emancipation Proclamation, though Lincoln issued it under his own authority, as shown by his use of “I, Abraham Lincoln.” In May, 1862, Congress passed the Militia Act, which erased free and white from the requirements for able-bodied males to serve in the Armies of the Republic. Citizenship remained a requisite, but the Speed Opinion had declared Blacks citizens, and although the Proclamation itself did not do so, by allowing Blacks to serve as soldiers it implied that free blacks were already citizens. It was, an Ohio Congressman remarked, “a recognition of the Negro’s manhood such as has never before been made by this nation.”

Furthermore, since being free was not a requirement, slaves could be recruited – even those held by loyal masters. The promise of liberty enticed many slaves, especially because their families would also be freed by their military service It took some time, but soon enough Union Army officers started to recruit slaves, even from plantations in the Border States, thus freeing them and granting then the citizenship the Speed Opinion had affirmed. This de facto conscription of slaves was not always voluntary, but it also became a potent weapon for the destruction of slavery in the Border States. In fact, nearly 60 percent of the Black soldiers recruited from the South came from the Border States, and 60 percent of Kentucky’s eligible black males had served in the Union Army by the end of the war. Military service thus provided a path for emancipation in states and areas exempted from the Emancipation Proclamation, where Congress and the Administration had no constitutional authority to abolish slavery as an institution but could still liberate slaves.

Black Union Soldiers​

The thing that most terrified the Southerners, however, was the idea of their slaves being taken, put into a Blue uniform, and sent to fight them. This was their bête noire, and soon enough the whole Confederacy denounced “Mr. Lincoln’s attempt to inaugurate a servile war”. Breckinridge, reportedly, “turned ashen in complexion” when he was told that the North was organizing Black regiments. The ailing Beauregard called for the “"execution of abolition prisoners” with a garrote, while Breckinridge, after recovering from the shock, pronounced it “the most execrable measure in the history of guilty man." Soon enough, the Confederacy decreed that in punishment for “crimes and outrages, aimed at inciting servile insurrection”, all Black soldiers and their White officers were to be tried and executed. The policy was not carried out to its full implications, but many Rebels took upon themselves to massacre captured black soldiers.

Thus, Black troops were "dealt with red-handed on the field or immediately thereafter," a brutal and criminal treatment that the Rebels hoped would discourage their enlistment. Many Southerners, and a good number of Northerners, were indeed skeptical of the capacities of Black men, believing that “those timid, fearful creatures, will not dare raise a hand against their owners”. But Black Americans, who had now a stake in the conflict because Union victory would result in Slave Emancipation, were eager to get “a chance to strike a blow for the country and their own liberty.” Agents of the War Department, including the indefatigable Lorenzo Thomas, started to organize Black regiments, but the greatest initiative was taken by two Union Governors: the young Kansas Governor Edmund G. Ross and Governor Andrew of Massachusetts.

Ross, a Kansas Jayhawker who had continuously pushed against the Slave Power, never recognizing the legitimacy of the Lecompton Government and continually denouncing them in his Topeka Tribune, had been elected as the new governor after the coup against Lecompton was complete. Seeking to recognize the vital role of the unofficial Negro regiments who fought with his Jayhawkers, Ross approved the formation of a regiment, known as the First Kansas Negro Regiment, though it would later obtain the official designation of 57th Regiment, U.S. Colored Infantry. None other than John W. Geary, legendary for his actions when he was Kansas’ Territorial Governor, drilled them before he left for a post in the Army of the Susquehanna. Command of the First Kansas was turned over to Lindley Miller, an abolitionist son of a former New Jersey Senator.

As for the Massachusetts troops, Governor Andrew organized two regiments as soon as he obtained permission from the War Department. Prominent abolitionists were enlisted as commanders of the 54th and 55th Massachusetts. Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, the young son of a prominent abolitionist family, was tasked with command of the 54th. “The North's showcase black regiment,” the bravery of the 54th Massachusetts would become legendary, weakening the prejudices of White Northerners and earning the respect and even the admiration of White Union soldiers. Marching into battle singing “we’re Colored Yankee soldiers!”, the First Kansas, 54th Massachusetts, and other regiments formed from the more than 200,000 Black Union soldiers, were essential in the eventual victory of the Union, and “helped transform the nation’s treatment of blacks and blacks’ conception of themselves”.

Indeed, at first many White soldiers resisted the very idea of Black regiments. "Woud you love to se the Negro placed on equality with me?" an Indiana private asked his father. "If you make a soldier of the negro you can not dispute but he is as good as me or any other Indiana soldier.” A New Jersey sergeant agreed, considering that arming slaves would be "a confession of weakness, a folly, an insult to the brave Solder." Nonetheless, and similarly to the Army’s acceptance of Emancipation as a military necessity, many soldiers acquiesced to the use of Black troops to aid the Union cause. "i wouldant lift my finger to free them if i had my say,” said an Illinois private, “but if we cant whip the rebils without taking the nigers I say take them and make them fite for us any way to bring this war to a close." Another Illinoisan expressed similar feelings, saying it would be "no disgrace to me to have black men for soldiers. If they can kill rebels I say arm them and set them to shooting. I would use mules for the same purpose if possible."

Robert Gould Shaw​

Resistance to Black recruitment reflected the Army’s initial opposition to the Emancipation Proclamation. Some soldiers welcomed it openly, such as a Pennsylvania man who recognized that the Proclamation made the war a contest not "between North & South; but one between human rights and human liberty on one side and eternal bondage on the other." A Minnesota comrade hailed the Fourth of July, 1862, as “a day hallowed in the hearts of millions of the people of these United States, & also by the friends of liberty and humanity the world over." An Iowa sergeant was now confident that "the God of battle will be with us . . . now that we are fighting for Liberty and Union and not Union and Slavery." Some, as already detailed, only accepted Emancipation as a weapon against rebellion, such as an Ohio officer who claimed to despise abolitionists but because "as long as slavery exists . . . there will be no permanent peace for America. . . . I am in favor of killing slavery."

Some soldiers felt betrayed by what they saw as a change in the purposes of the war. "I don't want to fire another shot for the negroes and I wish that all the abolitionists were in hell," said a New York artillery-man, while an Illinois professed that he “Can fight for my Country, But not for the Negros." A National Unionists loudly declared that "I did not come out to fight for the nigger or abolition of Slavery," and that Lincoln "ought to be lashed up to 4 big fat niggers & left to wander about with them the bal[ance] of his life." Men from the Border South felt betrayed as well, calling it “treachery to the Union men of the South,” and denouncing “the atrocity and barbarism of Mr. Lincoln’s proclamation”, attacks that were echoed by their soldiers, such as a Marylander who said he would no longer fight because "it really seems to me, that we are not fighting for our country, but for the freedom of the negroes," or a Missourian who approached treason when he suggested that the National Unionists “ougt to go in with the south and kill all the Abolitionists of the north and that will end this war."

Though it is clear that morale among some soldiers did decline, that probably had more to do with the eventual reversal in Union fortunes rather than with the Emancipation Proclamation itself. Indeed, most of these reports came from early 1863, rather than middle 1862 as one might expect. Quantifying the Army’s reaction as a whole is rather difficult, but analysis of the soldiers’ letters seems to show greater support for the Emancipation than opposition to it. In due time, the bravery of Black soldiers, the rise of the Copperheads, and the successes of the Emancipation policy as a weapon against the South would change the opinion of many soldiers.

An example is an Ohioan who at first declared that the Army “never shall . . . sacrafise [our] lives for the liberty of a miserable black race of beings”, but eventually came to regard Emancipation as "a means of haistening the speedy Restoration of the Union and the termination of the war." Soon enough, he became a Republican and by the end of the war he celebrated the creation of a nation "free free free yes free from that blighting curs Slavery”. Marcus Speigel wrote to his wife that he would “not fight or want to fight for Lincoln's Negro proclamation one day longer," but after many months he wrote to her again, telling her that he was now in “favor of doing away with the . . . accursed institution. ... I am [now] a strong abolitionist." Even a Kentucky lieutenant who had once threatened to resign should the government move against slavery now said that " "The 'inexorable logic of events' is rapidly making practical abolitionists of every soldier . . . I am afraid that [even] I am getting to be an Abolitionist. All right! Better that than a Secessionist."

And so, the Army came to accept the idea of a war for both Union and Liberty, with Black soldiers as their comrades in arms. Some Union Generals faithfully executed the government’s policies, recruiting Black soldiers and enticing slaves, such as Grant or Butler. Despite his rather marked contempt for negroes, Sherman also executed the provisions of the Proclamation – though he would resist War Department pressure for Black recruitment. McClellan, also, and despite his evident disgust towards the policies of the government regarding contrabands, had executed its policies and freed slaves who came within his lines. Others, however, bitterly resented the shift towards Emancipation as a war policy, such as Buell, whose policies protecting slavery had almost caused insubordination among some of his officers.

The Emancipation Proclamation started the apotheosis of Lincoln as the Great Emancipator​

After issuing the Proclamation, Lincoln met with McClellan, who had privately expressed disgust at “such an accursed doctrine as that of servile insurrection,” and furthermore saying that the “Presdt [is] inaugurating servile war, emancipating the slaves, & . . . changing our free institutions into a despotism”. According to Fitz-John Porter, the Emancipation Proclamation had been the act “of a political coward . . . ridiculed in the army— causing disgust, discontent, and expressions of disloyalty to the views of the administration.” McClellan took the opportunity given by Lincoln’s visit to lecture the President. The war, McClellan said, should be limited and not aimed at the “subjugation of the people of any state”; consequently, “neither confiscation of property, political executions of persons, territorial organization of states or forcible abolition of slavery should be contemplated for a moment.” What Lincoln thought of this arrogant talk is unknown, for he coolly turned away without comment, leaving the next day for Philadelphia, which would remain the capital for the time being.

Lincoln had decided to visit the Army Headquarters in order to confirm rumors that the “McClellan Clique” had a “plan to countermarch to Washington and intimidate the President.” He also wanted to assess whether Anacostia was a great victory or a loss opportunity. He interrogated Allan Pinkerton with such skill that he did not realize he was being questioned, and concluded that McClellan had squandered an opportunity to finally destroy the Rebel army. This naturally increased his suspicions of McClellan being disloyal. In order to quiet down the “silly treasonous talk” among the officers of the Army of the Susquehanna and reassert the dominance of the civilian authorities, Lincoln decided to make an example of Major John Key, who had declared that the Army had not “bagged” the Confederates because “that is not the game.” Instead, “the object is that neither army shall get much advantage of the other . . . that both shall be kept in the field till they are exhausted, when we will make a compromise and save slavery.”

Key was summoned to Philadelphia, where Lincoln presented the evidence against him, ruling it “wholly inadmissible for any gentleman holding a military commission from the United States to utter such sentiments.” Lincoln cashiered him on the spot, later writing that it was his intention “to break up the game.” McClellan learned of the incident by a letter from Montgomery Blair. The Blair Clan as a whole was becoming alienated by the radicalization of the war, and they turned to McClellan as the only one who could steam the tide. Nonetheless, Blair urged McClellan to declare his support for emancipation, to “head off your opponents very cleanly.” Several subordinates also told him that opposing the Proclamation openly would be a “fatal error”. McClellan wrote to his wife that his friend Aspinwall had, too, advised him that “it is my duty to submit to the Presdt’s proclamation & quietly continue doing my duty as a soldier.”

On July 21st, McClellan issued a general order that reinforced the principle that civilian authorities made policy and the Army had to execute it: “Armed forces are raised and supported simply to sustain the Civil Authorities and are to be held in strict subordination thereto in all respects…. The Chief Executive, who is charged with the administration of the National affairs, is the proper and only source through which the views and orders of the Government can be known to the Armies of the Nation.” But McClellan finished his orders with an unsubtle reference to the next elections: “The remedy for political errors, if any are committed, is to be found only in the action of the people at the polls.” As the backlash to the Emancipation Proclamation among the people intensified, whether such a remedy was to be found in the fall elections of 1862 depended chiefly on the success of the new military campaigns against Corinth, New Orleans and Richmond, which started in earnest after the Emancipation Proclamation had radically changed the objective and prosecution of the war.

 

[Red_Galiray]

Ulysses S. Grant always felt more comfortable as a commander than as a politician. Consequently, he did not know how to defend himself against the virulent and unfair attacks the press unleashed after his failure to take Corinth. An army of “correspondents who wrote for partisan papers and weren’t overly scrupulous in their methods” invaded his headquarters, and subjected him to painful scrutiny at the national level, thus complicating the task of organizing a new campaign against Corinth. It seemed like the hero of Dover was to be replaced with the disgraced soldier of 1854.

The main reason behind these attacks is the appalling casualties the Union suffered at the battle of Corinth, and the persistent rumors that Grant had not been prepared to withstand the Confederate counterattack after the first day. Johnston had been greatly aided by just how defensive Corinth was, but it was true to a certain point that Grant’s overconfidence and his characteristic focus only on what he was going to do almost brought disaster. Certainly, Grant and his lieutenants bravely rallied back the men, trapping Johnston once again in Corinth. But the press little cared about this, preferring to tell sensational stories about Union soldiers bayoneted in their tents and maliciously printing rumors about Grant being drunk during the battle.

Ohio and Iowa politicians were specially outraged because many of their regiments had been in the middle of the fiercest fighting at Corinth, and thus those two states suffered high casualties. Grant and his staff claimed that soldier who had skedaddled and not even seen battle were the main culprits of these rumors. But Lieutenant Governor of Ohio Benjamin Stanton, after personally interviewing several soldiers, reported to the press that there was “a general feeling among the most intelligent men that Grant and Prentiss ought to be court-martialed or shot.” The young Whitelaw Reid, more interested in a good story than a factual reportage, printed a widely circulated account that engraved many of the Corinth mythos in the popular imagination, including images of Grant as a careless man who was sleeping at luxury headquarters during the battle and a suggestion that had Buell been there, the rebels would have been crushed.

Despite abundant evidence to the contrary, many also claimed that Grant had been drunk. Fortunately, his friends rallied to his defense, including the tireless Rawlins, and William Rowley, who told Washburne that “the man who fabricated the story is an infamous liar.” One of Grant’s old friends from Ohio said that Grant himself “spoke bitterly of being charged with drunkenness and denied that he had been drinking, said he had not drunk any for several years.” Overall, press coverage of the aftermath of Corinth was unfair and painful to Grant, who, to his credit, refused to censure the press. He limited himself to closing down treasonous papers and preventing the loyal press from reporting about future military movements, such as his new plans to take Corinth.

John A. Rawlins​

A direct assault having failed, Grant laid siege on April 4th. Johnston’s last victory had done much to restore some of his reputation, which had been in tatters after Dover. With Washington back on Union hands, holding Corinth seemed more vital than ever, but once again circumstances were against the rebels, especially during a siege that promised to eventually force the rebels out due to fetid waters and the dangerous spread of diseases. Indeed, the supply of water was inadequate, and diseases such as typhoid or dysentery took out many soldiers and resulted in Corinth “becoming an ecological trap.” 40,000 dispirited and hungry rebels, who the harsh disciplinarian and heartily disliked Braxton Bragg referred to as "this mob we have, miscalled soldiers", were trapped within the pestilential town, and it seemed like soon more men would fall to disease than to Yankee bullets.

Grant’s soldiers were not having a pleasant time either. For one, their leader had wanted to renew the attack sometime in the future, stating that he could not see "how the mere occupation of places was to close the war while large and effective rebel armies existed.” But Halleck ordered him to wait for more reinforcements from Buell, and to continue the siege. Such a strategy was perfectly sound according to the books of military theory that guided Halleck’s behavior, but it was not adequate for a harsh war. Also, the bluecoats found problems gathering water or defending themselves against the ruthless raiders commanded by Forrest and Morgan, who did everything they could to stop Union logistics and harass them. The siege developed in the hot days just before summer started in earnest, increasing the misery of those Yankee farm boys unused to a tropical climate or high temperatures.

Disease was the greatest killer of the war, accounting for around 2/3rds of fatalities. Though such a high rate has led some to proclaim the medical services of the Civil War an utter failure, as James McPherson points out, mortality due to disease during the Civil War was smaller when compared to the Mexican War and the Crimean War. In general, disease was so deadly because many of the men were farm boys who had never had contact with some viruses and who were now crowded with thousands of other soldiers, whose hygiene was often poor. The conditions of northern Mississippi during the spring and summer of 1862 made it especially fertile ground for disease, which had a major effect on the campaign.

Among the several diseases that affected both Billy Yank and Johnny Reb, measles and tonsillitis usually only forced the soldiers to lay down for a while, though sometimes they interrupted important military campaigns. On the other hand, smallpox, dysentery, typhoid and pneumonia “went through some regiments like a scythe.” Grant’s soldiers were especially affected by malaria – Sherman contracted it, for example. And while trapped in Corinth, almost a third of Johnston’s army came down with what was called the “evacuation of Corinth”, that is, diarrhea. Consequently, even if Halleck was right that a siege would be enough to force Johnston out through the deadly effect of disease, by the same token the siege also weakened Grant’s own force.

Halleck’s insistence on a siege has been interpreted as an expression of his fear that Grant was upstaging him. After all, previous to Corinth Grant had been one of the few Union generals to achieve clear-cut victories. With Lincoln’s trust in professional military men such as Halleck and McClellan shaken, Grant becoming the most celebrated hero of the Union seemed possible. Because of this, “Halleck pretended to be Grant’s champion while subtly stabbing him in the back”, often showing him no respect or consideration. Great controversy surrounds the debate of whether the siege of Corinth was actually an attempt by Halleck to finally end Grant’s military career, or if it was simply a reflection of Halleck’s meticulous and cautious generalship. In any case, it cannot be denied that Halleck used his influence as General in-chief to keep Grant from launching another attack on Corinth as he wanted.

Braxton Bragg​

But even if direct action against Corinth was not undertaken at the moment, Union operations on the Mississippi continued. John Pope captured Island No. 10, but its small garrison had managed to scape to Fort Pillow, just fifty miles above Memphis. To defend this important stronghold, the rebels had around 40 guns and a “fleet of eight steamboats converted into armed rams.” The rebel navy managed to defeat its Union counterpart at Plum Run Bend, damaging two ironclads and causing the Southern captain to proclaim that the Yankees would “never penetrate farther down the Mississippi.”

Unfortunately for the Confederates, the Union river float soon obtained some rams as well. Partly inspired by the success of the CSS Virginia, Charles Ellet created a fleet of rams that could use steam power to pierce their enemies with reinforced prows which “could be far more lethal than any shot or shell then in existence”. After the Navy Department showed its lack of interest, Ellet went to Stanton, who approved his designs and send him to the Mississippi as a colonel. The Union river flotilla faced the Confederates at Fort Pillow on June 6th, 1862. The Union ships had the advantage of going downriver, which greatly increased their speed, but the soldiers at Fort Pillow supported their comrades with their 40 guns. The end result could be considered a draw, since Fort Pillow was still standing – but 4 out of 8 Confederate gunboats had been sunk, and 2 were badly damaged. It was clear that Fort Pillow would be unable to resist any other assault.

Meanwhile, the situation in Corinth was growing desperate. After nearly two months of siege and ravaged by disease and hunger, Johnston’s army had been weakened, and it was clear that trying to hold onto Corinth any longer would just be a senseless sacrifice. Grant, sensing the weakness of the rebels, wanted to go forward and attack again. However, Halleck against impeded this, and the delay that ensued as Halleck, Grant, Lyon, Stanton and Lincoln all contemplated the best course of action proved fatal. On June 5th, a courier arrived bringing news that a sullen Breckenridge had finally approved a withdrawal. At first, he had wanted to move to Memphis, but news of the battle of Fort Pillow arrived and changed his mind. Now judging Memphis another similar death trap, Johnston decided to leave for Tupelo, to the south of Corinth. The decision greatly displeased him, but, ultimately, he knew it was necessary for otherwise his army would have been overcome by disease.

On June 9th, Johnston pulled out of Corinth with admirably skill. Covered by the night, he managed to make preparations for his 35,000 surviving rebels to flee. Unfortunately, early the next day Grant caught columns of smoke that rose high to the sky, showing that the Confederates were destroying anything of military value and were going to retreat. Deciding to ignore the political squabbles that had held him back, Grant prepared his army to pursue Johnston and, hopefully, defeat him decisively this time. The action was, of course, a great political risk, especially because the pressure on Lincoln to remove Grant from command was increasing – during the debates over the best strategy to take Corinth, Lincoln had told Washburne that he was “annoyed to death by demands for his removal.” But Grant cared little about his ego or reputation. As soon as he could, he went forward to a battle other Union generals would not have dared to initiate.

On June 11th, Grant and his men caught Johnston at Kings Creek, near the small Booneville, roughly halfway between Tupelo and Corinth. A hilly area of dense forests, defensible terrain similar to that of Corinth, Kings Creek would have been a good place for making a stand had Johnston’s men been able to rest and fortify. But that was not the case. At least, they were not completely outnumbered, since Grant had not been able to bring to bear his full force, having needed to keep some 20,000 to guard his supply lines and patrol his rear. He still had numerical superiority, having 55,000 men to Johnston’s 35,000, but the rebels, even if tired and sick, had the defensive advantages of fighting on good terrain they knew well. Still, Grant attacked fiercely, something that the equally fierce Johnston welcomed.

The Battle of Kings Creek​

The Blue and the Gray slugged it out in a battle that, in the words of one Dixie officer, “had nothing of glory or honor, but just ugly suffering.” Already cured of war thanks to the Battle of Corinth, soldiers of both sides went forward without any real enthusiasm, but still determined to win whatever the cost. The same kind of fighting madness that would possess Eastern soldiers at Anacostia just a few weeks after Kings Creek took hold of Grant’s and Johnston’s men, and soon enough the battle degenerated into a desperate and bloody struggle. At the end of the day, Johnston had to further wound his pride by retreating, this time successfully, to Tupelo. Grant’s troopers tried to pursue, but the superior rebel cavalry, including Forrest’s raiders, managed to hold him back. His tired troops were not capable of any more fighting anyway, and the Battle of Kings Creek, with around 3,000 casualties on each side, came to an end.

Kings Creek was not a real strategic success, since Johnston was retreating to Tupelo anyway, and Grant’s intervention did not destroy his army. But timing and optics both were key. Just one day after Kings Creek, Fort Pillow and Memphis were evacuated, their position now indefensible without Johnston at Corinth and with the Union flotilla still active. Again, they would have retreated anyway, since the real catalyst was Johnston leaving Corinth. But because this retreat came so soon after the battle, it seemed like Grant had forced them to. In less than two weeks, Union forces occupied Corinth, the critical rail junction, and Memphis, the Confederacy’s fifth largest city. Though usually overshadowed by Anacostia, a bigger battle on the more visible Eastern Front, there is proof that the victory at Kings Creek also influenced Lincoln’s decision to issue the Emancipation Proclamation.

Historians critical of Grant, some as unfair as the reporters that attacked him following Corinth, have often argued that Kings Creek was no victory at all, but rather unnecessary butchery since Johnston was retreating anyway, and the Confederates soon managed to gather some 60,000 men in Tupelo and Vicksburg. Even if one could argue that it was no strategic victory, Kings Creek was definitely a personal victory for Grant, who once again became the darling of the press. “We have no better man”, one proclaimed, “than U.S. Grant, whose very name invokes warm patriotism on the people and chilling fear on the rebels.” Another added that “the whole nation will happily place their sincere trust on General Grant”.

At the same time that Kings Creek restored Lincoln’s confidence on Grant, it also eroded his opinion of Halleck, who, the President said, “broke down—nerve and pluck all gone—and has ever since evaded all possible responsibility.” On the Confederate side, Breckenridge is said to have reached his lowest point. Just a few weeks after, news came of the Emancipation Proclamation. “I fear our destruction will be assured if we don’t win any battles,” Breckinridge wrote, and he would also grimly comment that perhaps the Confederate experiment was about to end. Altogether, the President’s sagging morale was a faithful representation of the gloom that overtook the Southern people on the summer of 1862, when it seemed like Union victory was imminent.

Another Union success increased the despair of the Southerners. Towards the end of July, 1862, after recovering from his earlier failure to take New Orleans, Farragut came back. This time, he had the support of two fast Union ironclads, made after the design of the Monitor. The USS New York and USS Massachusetts supported his fleet and Burnside’s bluejackets as they descended once again on the important port, the biggest city of the Confederacy. The defenses of New Orleans had been greatly weakened by the need to hold Corinth – Bragg and his troops had been sent North to join Johnston, and the flotilla defeated by the Union at Fort Pillow was supposed to protect New Orleans. The rebels stacked their hopes on the ironclad CSS Louisiana, but like her sister the Virginia, the Louisiana was hard to maneuver and very slow.

Memphis during the Civil War​

In July 29rd, after pounding the Confederate defenses for six entire days, Farragut sent two small gunboats that managed to cut the chain that held the port close. The Louisiana came to the rescue, as in last time, but before being sunk both gunboats had managed to create an opening. Farragut’s fleet steamed upriver and his two ironclads attacked the Confederate behemoth in what has been termed “the greatest fireworks display in American history”. The Louisiana finally ran aground and was blown up by her crew after many hours of battle. Their trump card defeated, the rebels scattered, clearing the way for Farragut’s ships to take the Crescent City. They had lost around 53 men, and almost 200 were wounded, but the Confederate mosquito fleet had been destroyed and the forts that were meant to protect the city were captured.

In August 1st, Farragut and his crew entered New Orleans. They found “a city filled with burning cotton and cursing mobs brandishing pistols against the eleven-inch guns trained on their streets.” According to the young George Washington Cable, the people “howled and screamed with rage” while a Yankee sailor “standing with lanyard in hand beside a great pivot-gun, so plain to view that you could see him smile, silently patted its big black breach and blandly grinned.” A rather petty series of negotiations followed as the Confederate authorities refused to officially surrender the city, and Farragut finally decided to send in the marines, who raised Old Glory over the public buildings. Military command of New Orleans was given over to Burnside, who, among other tasks, would have to enforce the Emancipation Proclamation – after all, New Orleans was still in rebel hands when it was issued.

By middle October, Farragut and his fleet had forced the surrender of Baton Rouge and Natchez, thus setting the stage for Grant to start a campaign against Vicksburg, now the last Confederate stronghold on the West. Protected by Johnston’s nearby army at Tupelo, Vicksburg defiantly refused to surrender when Farragut called on them to do so. "Mississippians don't know, and refuse to learn, how to surrender”, said the military governor of the city, “If Commodore Farragut . . . can teach them, let him come and try.” With more than two hundred guns and twenty-three mortars, and placed on a high buff that protected it from both land and naval forces, Vicksburg could not be conquered by Farragut’s ships alone. Since an “infantry assault up the bluffs from the river would be suicidal”, Grant and the Union forces would have to find a way to attack Vicksburg from its rear, “a knotty problem in strategy that the Union army would not solve for nearly a year.”

Nonetheless, few doubted that Grant would be able to easily and quickly subdue this “Gibraltar of the West”, and Union morale, late so low, started to climb, which made its later fall all the more painful. Still, victories at New Orleans and Kings Creek did much to reinvigorate the Union war effort and imbue the people with trust in the Lincoln Administration, which had been badly shaken by the strong conservative reaction to the Emancipation Proclamation. But if Grant and Farragut were accumulating victories in the West, the same could not be said of Buell and McClellan east of them.

Buell, at least, had several justifications for his delay. His troops were as ravaged by illness as Grant’s and Johnston’s were, and the “disastrously dry” summer of 1862 had dried up rivers that the Union desperately needed. In fact, one of the factors that kept Grant from continuing to pursue Johnston after Kings Creek was that he did not have enough water for his entire force. Continuous attacks by Confederate partisans represented a continuous threat to the rear of the Union armies, which had to detach large sections in order to hold them at bay. This was especially necessary because the dry summer made logistics almost completely dependent on rail transport. At the same time as Halleck obstructed Grant’s aggressive plans, he directed Buell and his 40,000 soldiers to move towards Chattanooga, in order to finally liberate East Tennessee.

Battle of New Orleans​

It quickly became clear that Buell was not the man for the job. In a McClellan-esque statement, he said that the true objective of the war was “not to fight great battles, and storm impregnable fortifications, but by demonstrations and maneuvering to prevent the enemy from concentrating his scattered forces." Hesitant to march his army through the mountains of East Tennessee, Buell dithered until after Grant took Corinth. When he started his campaign against Chattanooga, advancing along the railway that connected it with Corinth, he moved at a snail’s pace. The ruthless rebel Nathan Bedford Forrest and his cavalry kept harassing him, cutting off the railway that supplied him. But despite these attacks, Buell persevered on his belief that a soft war was the best way to earn the trust of civilians and stop attacks by partisans.

In September 5th, Halleck told Buell that "The President telegraphs that your progress is not satisfactory and that you should move more rapidly.” But Buell was still mercilessly harassed by Confederates lead by Forrest and the able Kentuckian John Hunt Morgan, who “combined elements of Stuart's dash and Forrest's ferocity”. Time and time again, they attacked Buell’s supply lines, forcing him to divert divisions to futilely try and protect them, and slowing him down enormously. They could do this because they knew the territory well, and the people celebrated them as heroes, readily giving them supplies and refuge. This effectively meant that “rebel horsemen could strike at times and places of their own choosing”. Union posts proved very ineffective in the face of this style of warfare. Consequently, Buell’s campaign continued to advance slowly, while at Philadelphia Lincoln was losing his patience.

Breckinridge’s faith on Johnston was also evaporating. The fierce Johnston, aggressive as ever, proposed to leave around 30,000 men in Tupelo, where they could watch Grant, and take the other half of his force to Kentucky. The rebel commander and his main lieutenant, Braxton Bragg, had convinced themselves that another offensive-defensive stroke would be able to send the Union troops fleeing to the Ohio and earn the loyalty of the Kentuckians. An offensive into Kentucky, Bragg told Johnston, would allow them to liberate “our brothers and sisters of Tennessee and Kentucky” who had been rendered “bondmen and bondwomen of the abolition tyrant.” After restoring them “to the freedom inherited from their fathers”, they would presumably become fierce Confederates, adding their resources and manpower to the Southern cause.

However, Breckenridge had had enough of this aggressive behavior, which most of the time failed to gather any results except “making more orphans and widows.” Davis, too, believed that it was better to remain in the defensive for the moment, at least until the new Confederate draft could get in place and refill their ranks. Lee, brought in as Breckenridge’s new military advisor, placed little trust in a western offensive as well, though he already apparently was dreaming of a Napoleonic stroke in the East that could win the war. Either way, Breckinridge firmly refused to give Johnston the go ahead for his offensive against Kentucky, instead ordering him to hold Vicksburg with all his troops. When Johnston insisted, Breckinridge relented and allowed him to send Bragg with reinforcements to defend East Tennessee against Buell, but nothing more.

Nathan Bedford Forrest​

Events also developed slowly in the East, where General McClellan was preparing for his invasion of Virginia. His strained relation with the administration and with elements within the Army of the Susquehanna did much to slow him down in the aftermath of Anacostia. Lincoln had managed to chastise McClellan slightly after he cashiered Major Key, but conflict still raged within the pro- and anti-McClellan factions of the Army. Porter, Franklin and Smith, all friends of McClellan who shared his vision, formed one faction, while Sumner, Hooker and Heintzelman formed the other. Even though the country, and McClellan and his supporters, celebrated the supposedly great victory at Anacostia, soon enough the anti-McClellan faction and their Radical Republicans allies raised bitter accusations of lost opportunities, obstruction, and even deliberate sabotage and disloyalty. The most vocal was Hooker, who believed that had McClellan and Porter supported his last assault, then the rebels could have been completely broken.

An incident punctuated the Administration’s lack of trust on McClellan. After retaking Harpers Ferry, McClellan organized an operation to supply the garrison there, under former Speaker of the House Nathaniel Banks, with provisions brough through the Ohio Canal. In a tragi-comic episode, the boats McClellan brought were too big to pass through. After Stanton informed an incredulous Lincoln, the president summoned McClellan himself to Philadelphia to irately question him. “Why in [tar]nation,” the President demanded, “couldn’t you have known whether a boat would go through that lock, before spending a million of dollars getting them there? I am no engineer; but it seems to me that if I wished to know whether a boat would go through a hole, or a lock, common sense would teach me to go and measure it.”

He then pointed out that “The general impression is daily growing that the Army does not intend to do anything. By a failure like this we lose all the prestige we gained by the liberation of Washington. I am grievously disappointed.” Despite this, Lincoln still allowed McClellan to go ahead with the Peninsula operation. A vote among the corps commanders of the Army of the Susquehanna produced an even four in favor four against, but Lincoln finally decided that he could not go back on his promise to allow McClellan to put his plan on operation without sparking a mutiny. The political situation was delicate, after all he had just issued the controversial Emancipation Proclamation, and, as he told Stanton, “We can’t reject it and adopt another without assuming all the responsibility in the case of the one we adopt.” The plan went ahead.

Lincoln did, nonetheless, impose some conditions before McClellan could leave for the peninsula. Though the capital would remain at Philadelphia, it was still necessary to defend Washington. After all, for it to again fall in rebel hands would be a great humiliation. Consequently, Lincoln ordered a force to remain at Washington. This McClellan took as a personal insult, and a military unsound disposition. McClellan believed that a skeleton force would be enough for protecting Washington, and that his Peninsula movement would force the entire Confederate command to confront him in order to protect Richmond. Still under the delusion that his was a campaign to capture Richmond and not one to defeat the rebel army, McClellan insisted that he needed all the men he could get.

The Peninsula Campaign begins​

After preparing through July and August, McClellan and his Army boarded their ships at Annapolis, destined for Fort Monroe. If everything went according to plan, they would raise the Union flag over Richmond before Christmas. The General carried a letter from Lincoln saying that “it is indispensable to you that you strike a blow . . . You will do me the justice to remember I always insisted, that going down the Bay in search of a field, instead of fighting at or near Manassas, was only shifting, and not surmounting, a difficulty—that we would find the same enemy, and the same, or equal, intrenchments, at either place.” Lincoln was expressing his doubts of whether McClellan could succeed, but he finished the letter with a rather paternal note: “I have never written you, or spoken to you, in greater kindness of feeling than now, nor with a fuller purpose to sustain you…. But you must act.” But when McClellan and the Army of the Susquehanna arrived at Fort Monroe in September 15th, whether he would truly act remained to be seen.

 

[Red_Galiray]

The timing of the Peninsula Campaign was unfortunate. September was the sickest month of the year, and in 1862 it was one of the wettest as well. This would have spelled trouble even for an aggressive and dynamic general, but George McClellan was neither. Fort Monroe was in the peninsula formed by the York and James Rivers. Not far from the fort stood Yorktown, famous as the place where Cornwallis had surrendered to Washington. Confederate commander Magruder, known as the “Master of Ceremonies” due to the theatrical shows he had mounted for McClellan at Annapolis and Anacostia, was guarding the line. McClellan once again fell for this old trick, and in September 23rd, after constating the supposedly endless rebel legions, McClellan laid siege.

The news, naturally, alarmed Lincoln. "It is indispensable to you that you strike a blow.”, the President practically pleaded, “The country will not fail to note—is now noting—that the present hesitation to move upon an entrenched enemy, is but the story of Annapolis repeated.” This seemed to strike a raw nerve, for Annapolis had been undoubtedly McClellan’s greatest failure. Even at the moment, some newspapers were still all but accusing him of murdering McDowell through his inaction. McClellan, for his part, accused the Republicans of conspiring to make him fail. “The abolitionists are doing their best to displace me”, he told Halleck, “You have no idea of the undying hate with which they pressure me.”

Part of the pressure was, of course, that Lincoln and Stanton had not allowed McClellan to take the entire army with him. A significant fraction of the Confederate Army remained at Manassas, just a few miles outside of the recently liberated Washington. They were a real threat, and though the President and the apparatus of government remained in Philadelphia, the Union could not afford to lose Washington again. Consequently, 50,000 men under Hooker remained in Washington, ready to defend the city from the rebels, and other 20,000 under Frémont were in the Shenandoah Valley. McClellan was allowed to take the other half of the army, that is, some 80,000 soldiers. The number was enough by itself to overwhelm Magruder’s 13,000 rebels, and since some Southern units remained at Manassas, Lee had at most 50,000 to face Little Mac.

Nonetheless, McClellan believed himself outnumbered. This could be explained as a way to lay the blame on Lincoln, for McClellan claimed that in retaining troops in Washington Lincoln was setting him up for failure and taking away the soldiers he desperately needed in order to overcome the rebel defenses. In response to Lincoln’s plea to take action, McClellan only stated that he could not attack the rebels with his present numbers. Lincoln then promised to send Hooker’s 50,000 if the enemy retreated from Manassas. Though some members of the government, such as Meigs, recognized that it was unlikely for the rebels to try and take back “the ashes of Washington” when their own capital was threatened, Lincoln’s decision to keep troops around the city was not illogical or mean-spirited as McClellan believed it was.

John B. Magruder​

When he left for Fort Monroe, McClellan had vowed that he would no longer fall prey to the “petty intrigues, zealotry, military ignorance, and self-serving partisanship” of his enemies, but now it seemed to him that his campaign was doomed unless it was conducted with the precise, cautious approach to the arts of war that characterized him. Despite warnings from political allies that he needed to cooperate with the government (Francis P. Blair told him that “no general can succeed without proper relations with the Administration.”), McClellan refused to heed Lincoln’s advice or even his orders. Indeed, McClellan bitterly resented Lincoln’s prodding, even telling his wife that if Lincoln wanted the rebel lines taken “he had better come & do it himself." This did not augur well for the military fortunes of the Union.

Even as Lincoln struggled with the ego of his general, despair ruled the day in Richmond. Breckenridge was said to be “greatly depressed in spirits”, and when some Senators visited him and saw his pitiable condition, he could only say “Gentlemen, this is what’s left of me.” Davis’ niece too reported that “Uncle Jeff. is miserable. . . . Our reverses distressed him so much. . . . The cause of the Confederacy looks drooping and sinking . . . I am ready to sink with despair.” The Confederacy needed a victory, or else it would shatter. It was in such a mood that Robert E. Lee arrived at Richmond, summoned as Johnston’s replacement. Lee quickly took command of the Army of Northern Virginia, which finally assumed that name officially – it had been called the First Confederate Army until then.

Breckenridge’s initial skepticism was soon overcome, and he was now able “to see true light . . . for the first time in many months” as the military talents of Lee revealed themselves. Serving as the de facto General in-chief of the Confederacy, Lee took several measures in order to strengthen the Confederate forces and enhance the CSA’s chances of survival. Despite waspish criticism within the press and McClellan’s joyful exclamation that Lee was "cautious and weak under grave responsibilty . . . likely to be timid and irresolute in action", the Virginian set to work re-organizing the Army and developing an offensive-defensive master-stroke that, far from the clumsy offensives of Beauregard and A. S. Johnston, would be able to destroy the Union Army in a later-day Waterloo.

For the moment, Lee just ordered Magruder to hold the line, so as to slow down McClellan. The renewed effort at fortification caused taunts of “King of Spades” in the newspapers, but in truth Lee was trying to lure McClellan into a trap. It was, in fact, a rather obvious one: since McClellan was going up the peninsula, he would have to ford the Chickahominy at some point. Lee would then be able to confront each half of the Yankee Army separately, thus nullifying the Union’s superior numbers. Lee also send Stonewall Jackson to the Shenandoah Valley, after hearing from a Maryland Confederate that the 70,000 men not in McClellan’s Army would not be send if Washington was threatened. Jackson, till then wasted on defense, was the man for the job.

Francis Preston Blair​

Though disillusioned by defeat, the Army of Northern Virginia had by then developed a strong spirit de corps, and Lee, after careful study of the performance of several commanders under Beauregard and Johnston, was able to reorganize the army into two unified corps, instead of the rather unmanageable 9 divisions of Johnston. Magruder, good for theatrics but not for fighting, was relegated to a secondary role as capable men such as Longstreet, Jackson, and Stuart were promoted. In doing this, Lee was seeking to “forge its chain of command into an extension of his will.” The President was awed when he visited the rejuvenated Army of Northern Virginia.

When the decisive time came, Lee was ready to face McClellan, who continued to lose time bringing in heavy siege guns to Yorktown. Whereas Marse Lee’s charm and leadership were injecting morale and discipline into a dispirited command, Little Mac’s charisma and organization were unable to overcome the morale and leadership crisis of the Army of the Susquehanna. Part of the blame laid with McClellan, of course, because he encouraged such demoralization with his unsubtle criticism of the “radical war” and his obvious contempt for the corps commanders not aligned with him. Thus, the Union Army floundered under divided leadership, disease and demoralization while the Southern Army regained strength and spirit under Lee.

This “miraculous transformation” was punctuated by Breckinridge’s visit to the Army camps. A compassionate man, greatly popular with the common folk who made the bulk of the Army, Breckinridge was cheered openly by soldiers who saw him as their defender from corrupt and incompetent officials. He entered an Army hospital to bid farewell to many dying soldiers, and the hardened rebels observed how he took time to console everyone. ''Breck's tones were as tender as if he were talking to his own son," one commented later. "His presence had a magical effect upon the men," wrote another man, “for he shared our hardships and felt our sorrows. With him at the lead, we are sure to defeat the tyrant.”

"Come, my brave boys, and follow General Lee faithfully—he will lead you on to victory!", said the President as he departed. Immediately, loud cheering and rebel yells resonated as the men pledged their loyalty to “Johnny Breck”, who only smiled at the affectionate nickname. Lee, for the moment, received no cheers, though he was quick to earn the men’s respect at least. Nonetheless, his actions over the next few weeks assured that a strong, fierce loyalty to Marse Lee would also grow within the ranks. Despite privations and penuries, the Rebels were motivated to fight against McClellan’s Yankee invaders, who were now coming after taking Yorktown.

General Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia​

In October 20th, Magruder was instructed to withdraw from Yorktown. Joe Johnston, reduced to an insignificant role as a military inspector, observed that the defenses were so weak that "No one but McClellan could have hesitated to attack.” As in after Anacostia, Breckenridge had made careful preparations for a masterful retreat, though he was painfully aware that retreats would not win the war. He reflected gloomily on this fact when a subordinate called the retreat “a practical victory”, observing that “another such victory will sink the Confederacy.” Optics were key again, and even though Longstreet successfully slowed down McClellan through a rear-guard action that took 2,200 Yankees for the price of 1,500 rebels, journals in the North celebrated that McClellan had the rebels on the run for Richmond.

Of course, the truth was other, but with the elections of November a couple weeks away, the Lincoln administration’s enemies were “submerged under the most profound despair and consternation.” The National Union had been unable to formulate a unified response to the Emancipation Proclamation and the other radical actions of the government. Certainly, they unanimously disapproved the measure, but how to express this opposition was another matter. Lincoln had expertly framed the Proclamation as purely a military matter, rather than a moral decision. Military victories at Corinth, Kings Creek, and New Orleans had apparently showed the success of the policy, and Chesnut protests that these victories had nothing to do with the Proclamation were feeble and ineffective.

National Unionists hadn’t anticipated the tremendous excitement within the people and eventual acceptance within the Army either. John Hay, for example, noted how a multitude of serenaters came to Chase’s windows, and “gleefully and merrily called each other and themselves abolitionists, and seemed to enjoy the novel sensation of appropriating that horrible name.” Prominent politicians remarked with horror how “the radical and bloody doctrines” of the Republicans were being accepted by the people, who extended their confidence to Lincoln and his prosecution of the war.

In truth, the response to the Proclamation was not as positive as sullen Chesnuts believed. Though there was plenty of praise, which Lincoln considered gratifying, he told Hamlin that “The North responds to the proclamation sufficiently in breath . . . but breath alone kills no rebels.” Similarly, many romantic revolutionaries had endorsed the proclamation. But the far more important opinions of the statesmen and dignitaries of Europe were negative. Lord Russell went as far as predicting “acts of plunder, of incendiarism, and of revenge” as a result of the Proclamation, and many Britons, though pleased by the shift from a war to subjugate an independence movement to a war for human freedom, were skecptical of the American’s altruism due to the exceptions the Proclamation contained.

Montgomery Blair​

Lincoln’s greatest worry, nonetheless, remained the conservative reaction. Montgomery Blair had warned the President that the Proclamation would give the National Unionists "a club . . . to beat the Administration" in the coming elections, and objected to its immediate implementation. When Lincoln simply answered that the Chesnut’s clubs “would be used against us take what course we might” and pressed ahead, Blair presented his resignation, which Lincoln decided to accept. The Blair Clan’s alienation from the Lincoln administration was complete. This incident, more than anything, represents the desertion of many conservative elements that were willing to fight for Union, but utterly refused to fight for abolition. With this in mind, National Unionists started a political campaign that had opposition to slave emancipation as its cornerstone.

In New York, factions of Democrats and National Unionists bitterly divided by the legacy of the Douglas-Buchanan feud were able to unite once again in order to oppose the Proclamation. Under the banner of the “National Democracy”, they united in a fusion ticket that decried the Proclamation as "a proposal for the butchery of women and children, for scenes of lust and rapine, and of arson and murder." The conservative but colorless Horatio Seymour was nominated as the Party’s nominee, despite speeches that reeked of disloyalty. For instance, he proclaimed that "If it be true that slavery must be abolished to save this Union, then the people of the South should be allowed to withdraw themselves from the government which cannot give them the protection guaranteed by its terms."

Many New York newspapers echoed the opposition of Seymour, though few approached calls for peace like he did. The New York Evening Express called the Proclamation “an act of revolution” that would make “the restoration of the old Constitution and Union impossible.” It was true that this was the aim of the Proclamation, but it’s needless to say that the newspaper considered this a disastrous consequence. The New York Journal of Commerce predicted that due to the Proclamation the war would continue “in a dark future, in which the end is beyond our vision.” An alarmed correspondent wrote Secretary Chase, saying that throughout the North Chesnuts were saying “I told you so, can’t you see this is an Abolition war?” to every disaffected person.

Similar bitter denunciations echoed throughout the rest of the North. One party convention went as far as asserting that “the South cannot be subdued and ought not to be subdued” if abolition was the aim of the war. “In the name of God, no more bloodshed to gratify a religious fanaticism”, they implored. An editor called for “the despot Lincoln” to “meet with the fate he deserves: hung, shot, or burned”; another agreed, saying that "true Americans” saw “no reason why they should be shot for the benefit of niggers." “The measure is wholly unwarrantable and wholly pernicious,” said some more sober Chesnut editorials in Pennsylvania. Giant meetings of National Unionists assembled in response to the parades that had celebrated the Proclamation, accusing the Republicans of being “Nigger Worshippers” and saying that the measure would cause “a swarthy inundation of negro laborers and paupers”

In the Northwest, in Douglas country where there was less need to appeal to the old Buchaneers, the Illinois and Ohio Chesnuts nonetheless followed the lead of their Eastern brethren and denounced the Proclamation as “another advance in the Robespierrian highway of tyranny and anarchy.” A newspaper said it would “render eternal the hatred between the two sections”, and another brandished proof of the Army’s demoralization to claim that “the vulgar usurper we are forced to call Mr. President” would destroy the Army, thus retrospectively making “the sacrifice of thousands of brave white men” a sacrifice for the “sake of niggers and abolitionists.” “Did your son, your brother, your father die for negroes?”, a speaker asked yeomen of Southern Illinois. “No! No! No!”, answered they.

Horatio Seymour​

However, under the curtain of unity of purpose, the National Democracy was in fact still very divided. National Unionists usually remained committed to the restoration of the Union, but how to restore it was another matter. Following Douglas’ lead, many remained “War Unionists” who supported the restoration of the Union through arms. Though understandably alienated by what they saw as a change in the purpose of the war, they did not regard peace as an alternative solution either. Reviled as “Copperheads”, after the poisonous snake, many Chesnuts openly called for peace, which, they believed, would allow for peaceful reunion through a convention of states.

This was nothing but a “fond delusion”, for both War Union men and Republicans recognized that the Confederacy had no intention to submit unless it was forced to. Breckenridge, nonetheless, encouraged Copperhead prospects through careful doublespeak that a Northern newspaper called “the most impressive circus trick of North America – watch, as Johnny Breck promises both peaceful reunion and warlike resistance to the last!” For example, he famously declared that he was ready “for peace negotiations, if honorable terms are offered in good faith.” For Southerners, honorable terms meant independence; for Northerners, it may mean reunion. Breckenridge was unable to push this Machiavellian strategy as much as he wanted because he feared that overdoing it would seem “a confession of weakness” at a critical moment. However, he still managed to mislead some Northerners.

Perhaps the Copperheads wanted to be misled. Either way, pro-peace rhetoric rose during the electoral campaign as speakers gloomily painted pictures of endless war and more bloodshed. Calls for “resistance to the last” against “Lincoln’s Dictatorship” abounded. Seymour went as far as calling for men to “resist, at all costs” the “unconstitutional and treasonable” decrees of the government. “Better to lose your life in the struggle for freedom than in the struggle for the negro”, he concluded. When the patriotic song “We Are Coming Father Abraham” gained popularity in the North, Chesnuts created a parody that encapsulated their reasons for opposing the war:

“We’re not coming Tyrant Abra’am, not a single man more​

For Southern niggers you will not sacrifice Northern boys​

You take our fathers and husbands, our sons and brothers dear​

And plow them into bloody graves to satisfy your fanatism​

Come here, see the the widows and orphans that you have left​

We’re not coming Tyrant Abra’am, not a single man more!”​

Aside from hostility to Black emancipation, Copperhead sentiments also responded to disillusionment with the war. Even a Republican admitted that “After a year and a half of trial, and a pouring out of blood and treasure, and the maiming and death of thousands, we have made no sensible progress.” The Lincoln Administration, in the view of many, had been a “flat, regrettable failure”, and the Chief Executive of the Nation “would only be remembered by his incompetence, his tyranny, and his idiocy.” Union victories did not matter because “the final blow” had not been given yet despite much fanfare. An Ohio man, for example, bitterly complained that the Peninsula Campaign was the “fourth or fifth” offensive advertised as the final one. Within public opinion, thus, “Union armies seemed on occasion to be successful but never victorious.” The result was that Copperheads increasingly called for peace.

Anti-Copperhead Political Cartoon​

This War Unionists could not accept. In a time when the rebels were on the run on all fronts and military victory seemed in sight, many regarded asking for a peace conference to be “a disastrous, dishonorable surrender”. Indeed, “why should we yield to rebel threats”, asked a newspaper, “when General McClellan will soon dine in Richmond?” “Should be surrender the blood of thousands of loyal men and tell them that their sacrifice was for naught?”, asked rhetorically a speaker, “Now, when the culmination of our efforts seem so near?” Others easily saw through Breckenridge’s “circus tricks” and recognized that military victory was the only way to assure the restoration of the Union. “Johnny Breck, Jeff Davis and all the other traitors encourage you to vote for Seymour, the candidate of treason, slavery and cowardice”, said campaign signs in New York. To accusations that Wadsworth would inaugurate "the worst reign of Terror since the French Revolution", Republicans answered that "a vote for Seymour is a vote for treason."

Ironically enough, some National Unionists opposed peace because they could see that “the only way for Lincoln’s black designs” to be completed would be if the war continued. “Speedy victory and fraternal reunion”, they argued, would put an immediate end “to the murderous Proclamation”. It was, then, the duty of every patriot to support the government for the moment. Otherwise, they warned, “the accursed doctrines of the Black Republicans will reach triumphant conclusions.” Simply put, to continue the war longer than necessary would also “prolong the suffering of the White men, women and children of the South at the hands of criminal fanatics and Negro murderers.” If the war ended right there and then, there was still hope of restoring the Union as it was – after all, the legality of the Emancipation Proclamation was doubtful and many areas of the South had been untouched by war.

Of course, they did not want Republicans at the helm when the Restauration of the Union started. They wanted “every Black Republican” to be “shamed, humiliated and defeated” in the elections, but War Unionists, committed to ending the war “on honorable terms” rather than the Copperhead’s “dishonorable surrender” should be the ones elected. Whatever the rhetoric behind the split, the concrete result was that the fusion tickets of the “National Democracy” failed, and in many states both War Unionists and Copperheads ran, splitting the anti-Republican vote, lending strength to the Lincoln Administration, and, most unfortunate of all for the Chesnuts, smoothing over factional differences within the Republicans.

The clearest example is New York, where General John A. Dix was recruited to head a “Constitutional Re-Union” ticket that opposed both Seymour’s “National Democracy” and the Republican candidacy of the “earnest abolitionist” James S. Wadsworth. Beforehand, Seward and his political associate Thurlow Weed had tried to draft Dix for a Union Party ticket that would broaden the basis of the Republicans in New York, but they were opposed by radicals lead by Horace Greeley, who supported Wadsworth. The feud threatened to weaken both radicals and conservatives within the state, but when news came that Dix accepted the “Re-Union” nomination instead, Seward and Weed threw their support to Wadsworth, even if reluctantly.

John A. Dix​

The Lincoln Administration also robbed National Unionists of two issues they had been ready to trumpet during the campaign: civil liberties and the economic situation. In the first case, perhaps this was less indicative of a careful scheme by Lincoln than of the new fortune of the Union. With victory in sight and Maryland liberated, Lincoln directed Stanton to free the few political prisoners that remained, ironically earning the Secretary of War some very brief praise as a civil libertarian. Alleging that “every department of the Government was paralyzed by treason, and demoralized due to the capture of the Federal capital” as a justification for the previous measures, Lincoln now proclaimed that "The insurrection is believed to have culminated and to be declining.” “In view of these facts and anxious to favor a return to the normal course of the administration," Lincoln thus released prisoners and ordered the process of recruitment slowed down.

When it comes to the economy, the situation had been perilous indeed for the Union. As McPherson details, “for a time in the winter of 1861-62, fiscal problems threatened to overwhelm the Union cause.” Secession naturally had caused an economic panic as people ran to the banks and withdrew as much specie as they could. Threats of war with Britain and the slow pace of the war eroded confidence on the government, and towards the end of 1861 many banks suspended specie payments. The legacy of hard-money Jacksonian doctrine aggravated the problem because payments to the Treasury were delivered in specie to government vaults, where it “remained idle for weeks . . . while bank reserves dropped toward the danger point.”

Lincoln played almost no part in the efforts to solve the crisis because he was no expert on finance. Secretary Chase was not an expert either, but he was an able man who learned quickly and counted with the support of good advisers, such as the banker Jay Cooke. Through a combination of short-term loans such as “five-twenties” and “seven-thirties”, Chase was able to keep the government’s credit afloat. Cooke, furthermore, pioneered the kind of patriotic advertising that would become common-place in the 20th century, marketing the bonds even to ordinary people. Despite accusations of undue profiteering, Cooke only earned some 700,000 dollars out of 400 million of five-twenties and 800 of seven-thirties. Altogether, Cooke’s advertising “was a cheaper and more efficient means of selling bonds to the masses than the government could have achieved in any other way.”

Increased tariffs and the first ever federal income tax in American history supplemented the Northern economy, and the progressive nature of the tax bill lessened its impact, because the tax was only leveled on annual incomes over $800 – thus excepting most of the working men of the country. Despite these efforts, it was clear that a solution for the specie problem would have to be found soon. Chase finally “proposed the chartering of national banks authorized to issue notes secured by government bonds.” This would eventually result in the National Banking Act of 1863, but in the meantime the solution for the emergency was a bill authorizing the Treasury to print $150 million notes, which would be legal tender “receivable for all debts public or private except interest on government bonds and customs duties.”

Greenback bill engraved with Lincoln's face​

National Unionists, heirs of the Jacksonian doctrine, protested this measure. Their arguments ranged from Constitutional ones (saying that under the Constitution Congress could only issue metal coins) to the theological (“gold and silver are the only true measure of value. These metals were prepared by the Almighty for this very purpose.") In any case, the undercurrent of this opposition was the belief that fiat money could not be “kept at par value, except by its speedy, cheap, certain convertibility into gold and silver.” "Prices will be inflated . . . incomes will depreciate; the savings of the poor will vanish; the hoardings of the widow will melt away; bonds, mortgages, and notes—everything of fixed value—will lose their value," they warned, doubtlessly with the disastrous inflation of the American Continental and Confederate “grayback” in mind.

Republicans ignored these arguments, and even some who harbored doubts about whether the bill was wise or not ultimately voted for it due to the pressing necessity of funding the government. Chase drove the point home when he informed the Congress that "Immediate action is of great importance” because “The Treasury is nearly empty." Senator William Pitt Fessenden, despite saying that the bill “shocks all my notions of political, moral, and national honor” voted for it since "to leave the government without resources in such a crisis is not to be thought of." Almost all Republicans voted for the bill; almost all National Unionists voted against it. The Legal Tender Act of 1862 became law when Lincoln signed it on February 25th.

The act was a big success, creating “a national currency” and altering “the monetary structure of the United States”. In the words of James McPherson:

It asserted national sovereignty to help win a war fought to preserve that sovereignty. It provided the Treasury with resources to pay its bills, it restored investor confidence to make possible the sale at par of the $500 million of new 6 percent bonds authorized at the same time, and unlocked the funds that had gone into hoarding during the financial crisis of December. All these good things came to pass without the ruinous inflation predicted by opponents . . . While the greenbacks' lack of a specie backing created a speculator's market in gold, the "gold premium" did not rise drastically except in periods of Union military reverses. During the four months after passage of the Legal Tender Act, the gold premium rose only to 106 (that is, 100 gold dollars would buy 106 greenback dollars).​

Besides the “underlying strength” of the Northern economy, the act was a success due to being issued during a period of military success. With McClellan pursuing the fleeing rebels to Richmond and Grant about to take Vicksburg, the enthusiasm of the Northern people was high in the sky, and their trust in their commander in-chief was reinforced. The National Unionists were unable to overcome their differences and find a coherent program of opposition besides simple racism. News that the ailing Douglas had finally succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver came at the worst time, and at the end Republican turnout was high while it was depressed in Chesnut areas. The National Union, as a result, was “routed and whipped” by the Republicans in the 1862 mid-terms. Republicans won the governors election in New York, elected several Missouri congressmen, and made a net gain in the Senate.

The Elections of 1862​

To be sure, the opposition did manage to win some pivotal battles, including the governorship and legislature of New Jersey, the legislature of Indiana, and several seats in the Lower North. But they failed to take the legislature of Illinois, and only won a miserable 10 congressmen. The Republicans had a 123 majority in the House, that is, only 2 representatives over the 2/3rds required for a supermajority. In the Senate, the picture was grimmer – Republicans held 35 seats, 4 more than the 31 required for a supermajority. Exultant Republicans called the election “a great, sweeping revolution of public sentiment . . . the triumphal victory of freedom and emancipation”, and asserted that the results showed “a severe reproof” to the National Unionists and the acceptance of the Northern people of the Emancipation Proclamation and Union and Liberty as war objectives.

The greatest irony of McClellan’s career as a general is how his cautiousness probably resulted in this Republican victory, thus assuring Republican control and greater radicalization as Party leaders interpreted the election as an endorsement of their measures. McClellan, the War Unionist, also ensured that the National Union would become a completely Copperhead Party after the War wing had failed so miserably. However, while the Republican Party utterly crushed their rivals in the polls, McClellan was marching right into Lee’s trap, and after this spectacular victory, the Lincoln Administration would receive one of its most severe defeats. The fortunate timing of the elections can’t be overstated, because it allowed the Lincoln Administration to govern with wide majorities whereas the Union war machine might have been permanently stopped had the National Unionists won. But the fact that in the coming months the Union would fall from the heights of enthusiasm to which it had climbed to the depths of gloom and consternation cannot be ignored.

 

[Red_Galiray]

As December, 1862 started, George B. McClellan’s magnificent Army of the Susquehanna approached Richmond, close enough to hear its bells toll. Confederate clerks hurried to pack archives away, and the entire apparatus of government was making preparations to flee the city if necessary. President Breckenridge attempted to rally back his people by reminding them that that famous Virginian, George Washington, had also lost his capital only to retake it later. But the Yankees had also lost their capital, and panic took over the city as many Confederates feared that those Northern brigands would take revenge by burning Richmond to the ground. The Confederate War of Independence seemed about to end.

Confederate despair expressed itself through irate and often bitter attacks against their own leader. "The incredible incompetency of our Executive has brought us to the brink of ruin," said a South Carolina Congressman, while the Southern Literary Messenger denounced Breckenridge as “proud, unreasonable, inexperienced, incapable, even malignant. He is the cause of the very dark hour we have reached. While he lives, there is no hope." General Beauregard even self-servingly declared that Breckenridge was a “living specimen of gall & hatred . . . either demented or a traitor to his high trust. . . . If he were to die to-day, the whole country would rejoice at it, whereas, I believe, if the same thing were to happen to me, they would regret it.”

Breckenridge, though reportedly pained by these attacks, ignored them for the most part. It seems that Breckenridge increasingly came to blame them as fabrications by the opposition, which he denigrated as a Tory or Reconstructionist party. In any case, he was wise enough to not answer and thus alienate more men. Unfortunately for the embattled President, the actions of his government were more than enough to alienate large swathes of Southern public opinion. With Confederate prospects so bleak, new conscription laws and the establishment of martial law in several parts of the Confederacy were “justified by the needs of the hour.” This did not stop the critics, and even if Breckenridge vowed to "in forbearance and charity to turn away as well from the cats as the snakes”, the opposition continued to assail his policies.

The most common way was denouncing Breckenridge as “a terrible despot, who disregards our sacred liberties for the aggrandizement of his contemptible clique”, as a Richmond newspaper said. The establishment of military conscription, the main point of contention, was undoubtedly necessary, for otherwise the Armies of the Confederacy might have been depleted at a critical time, but this did not stop resistance to the draft. Even though the law had enjoyed high support within Congress, in the states there was considerable backlash. Politicians like Governors Zebulon Vance and Joseph Brown of North Carolina and Georgia respectively focused on the unconstitutionality of the measure. Aided by Davis, Breckenridge answered that the “necessary and proper” clause of the Confederate Constitution justified the draft, for the necessity was clear "when our very existence is threatened by armies vastly superior in numbers."

Zebulon Vance​

Behind these constitutional debates, however, more concrete and harmful ways of opposing conscription took place. In many cases, this was because the draft was woefully unsuited to the necessities of a modern nation engaged in a war for its very survival. While in theory any man between eighteen and thirty-five could be called to serve the Confederacy, in practice there were ways of avoiding the draft. The most common was by paying for a substitute from those who were “not liable for duty”, which included immigrants and people outside the age group. Even though “the practice of buying substitutes had deep roots in European as well as American history”, being used in the American Revolution and the French levée en masse, it was, doubtlessly, an example of class legislation due to its very premise: that the people capable of hiring substitutes, that is, the wealthy, would be more valuable on the homefront.

This is not entirely illogical, since the organizational talents of planters and professionals would be necessary to keep the Confederate war machine going. A supplementary law was passed on April 21st, creating “several exempt categories: Confederate and state civil officials, railroad and river workers, telegraph operators, miners, several categories of industrial laborers, hospital personnel, clergymen, apothecaries, and teachers.” Despite the fact that neither planters nor overseers were excluded, to many poor men the conscription law seemed an unjust way of excepting the elites while the poor man was torn from home and sent marching to Yankee bayonets. The famous bitter saying “A rich man’s war but a poor man’s fight” demonstrated the widespread discontent that conscription created among the Southern poor.

The poor had several ways of expressing their opposition, most commonly “voting with their feet.” In several communities, farmers swore “they will be shot before they will fight for a country where the rich men's property is to be taken care of and those who have no overseers are to go and fight first." Fleeing to swamps or woods, these men resisted conscription at all costs, even sometimes violently repealing enrollment officers – James McPherson, for instance, comments that “armed bands of draft-dodgers and deserters ruled whole counties”. The situation was even more critical in regions where support for the Confederacy was low, such as the mountainous upcountry that leaned strongly towards Unionism. In those areas of independent farmers, the drafting of one or two members of a poor yeoman family could have devastating effects and lead to hardship and hunger because the labor of the entire family was needed for the cultivation of the soil. This helps explain their extreme opposition to conscription.

This discontentment naturally made enforcing the law a great challenge. In East Tennessee, a Unionist area that bitterly resented Confederate rule, "25,500 conscripts were enrolled, and yet only 6000 were added to the army," while Alabama’s governor had to admit that "the enforcement of the act in Alabama is a humbug and a farce." Others readily seized the opportunity afforded by the April 21st exemptions law, establishing new schools or opening apothecary shops with "a few empty jars, a cheap assortment of combs and brushes, a few bottles of 'hairdye' and Vizard oil' and other Yankee nostrums." A sullen War Department clerk commented that the Bureau of Conscription "ought to be called the Bureau of Exemptions."

Conscription in the Confederacy​

Tory governors, considering the draft an unconstitutional measure, helped along this resistance. The aforementioned Governors Brown and Vance, for example, appointed hundreds of militia officers and civil servants, who were exempted by the April 21st law. The result was that Georgia and North Carolina counted for 92% of state officials exempted from the draft, leading a Confederate general to say that a militia regiments from those states consisted of "3 field officers, 4 staff officers, 10 captains, 30 lieutenants, and 1 private with a misery in his bowels”. Similar lack of commitment to the Confederate cause was observed in other regards within many states. For example, North Carolina reserved all the cloth its forty textile mills produced for their militia, leaving nothing to the national army.

Internal divisions were not the only factors crippling the Confederate cause, for some aspects of the law also weakened Confederate industry and production at a critical time. Despite the fact that industrial workers had been exempted, some local officials did not obey the law and drafted them anyway, depriving factories of labor. This was all the more harmful when the draftees were skilled men that could not be easily replaced. Such was the case in a Richmond armory where “production fell off by at least 360 rifles per month after an expert barrel straightener was drafted” in defiance of the law. Foreign labor suffered a similar fate, and many skilled English and Germans workers of the pivotal Tredegar Iron Works fled to the North or Europe after conscription started. The disastrous consequence was that by the summer of 1863 “Tredegar had lost so many skilled puddlers . . . that only a third of the furnaces in the rolling mill were functioning.”

The obvious solution of using slaves as factory workers could not be fully implemented due to planter resistance. The Confederate government already impressed slaves and put them to work in army camps, building fortifications or in industrial factories, but planters loathed giving up their property, especially because Richmond was slow to pay. Moreover, many feared that using slave labor industrially would undermine the peculiar institution because being away from the plantation would give the slaves “a dangerous taste for independence” and infect them with “strange philosophies”. In the wake of the Emancipation Proclamation, with the entire South alarmed at the prospect of slave insurrection, the idea of taking slaves away from the plantation and putting them near the Union Army was simply unacceptable.

Another factor that further weakened the Confederacy that sprung directly from conscription were new organized movements created to oppose the governments’ policies. For example, there was Choctaw County’s Loyal League, which sought to “break up the war by advising desertion, robbing the families of those who remained in the army and keeping the Federal authorities advised.” In western North Carolina, a similar effort was headed by the Heroes of America. Alexander H. Jones, one of them, explained that “this great national strife originated with men and measures that were . . . opposed to a democratic form of government . . . The fact is, these bombastic, highfalutin aristocratic fools have been in the habit of driving negroes and poor helpless white people until they think . . . that they themselves are superior; [and] hate, deride and suspicion the poor.”

The Tredegar Iron Works were essential to the Confederate war effort. ​

Despite all these factors, the conscription law did manage to fulfill its main objective of getting more men at arms and stimulating volunteering. Many men preferred to volunteers because then they could join new regiments alongside their neighbors and elect their own officers, while draftees were assigned to existing regiments. This allowed the Confederates to increase the size of their army from 375,000 to 500,000 men, an increase of some 250,000 soldiers if those who fell in the meantime are counted. Confederate nationalists, especially those in areas threatened by invasion, would pronounce the law a success. Even those who still doubted its constitutionality believed that "Our business now is to whip our enemies and save our homes . . . We can attend to questions of theory afterwards." The law was, furthermore, “upheld by every court in which it was tested.”

A similar belief that Northern invasion justified extreme measures led Breckenridge to decree martial law in Richmond towards the middle of 1862. Under the iron first of General John H. Winder, several measures were taken to curb “the rising crime and violence among the war-swollen population of the capital”. Along with pickpockets, thieves and drunkards, some Unionists were also jailed. Winder even went as far as threatening the Richmond Whig with closure after it compared these actions with Lincoln’s similar suppression of Confederate sentiment in Unionist Maryland. A diarist declared it “a reign of terror”, but others rejoiced in the law and order that Winder’s military police had brought to the city after it "arrested all loiterers, vagabonds, and suspicious-looking characters. . . . The consequences are peace, security, respect for life and property, and a thorough revival of patriotism."

At the same time that the Breckenridge administration was implementing these extreme measures, news tricked from the North that the Lincoln government, so often denounced as a tyranny, was softening its own methods. Nonetheless, with defeat so close, most Confederates welcomed Breckenridge’s decisiveness. "The Government must do all these things by military order”, declared the Richmond Examiner for instance, “To the dogs with Constitutional questions and moderation! What we want is an effectual resistance.” Unfortunately, this sometimes resulted in military overreach. Some commanders declared martial law on their authority, notably Van Dorn in Louisiana, and although Breckenridge forbid them from doing so, this kind of abuses continued. Louisiana’s governor would denounce it, declaring that "no free people can or ought to submit to [this] arbitrary and illegal usurpation of authority."

Martial law was an especially valuable tool when it came to enforcing conscription in several areas where judges issued writs of habeas corpus to free draftees. Breckenridge thus declared that suspending the writ was necessary so that “citizens of well-known disloyalty” would not “accomplish treason under the form of law” with “their advocacy of peace on the terms of submission and the abolition of slavery.” Bitter responses arose to this practice. A woman in Georgia wrote Breckenridge that the men in her area were "disgraceful, lawless, unfeeling and impolite men . . . They are running around over town and country insulting even weak unprotected women." Governor Vance too declared that suspension of the writ would shock “all worshippers of the Common law by hauling free men into sheriffless dungeons for opinions sake.”

As with conscription, Georgia was the cockpit of resistance to Breckenridge’s “despotism”. Governor Brown, Robert Toombs, and Breckenridge’s own Vice-President Alexander Stephens formed a powerful triumvirate that denounced conscription and martial law as unconstitutional despotism. "Away with the idea of getting independence first, and looking for liberty afterwards," Stephens asserted, "Our liberties, once lost, may be lost forever." Toombs joined him by denouncing the "infamous schemes of Breckenridge and his Jannissaries. . . . The road to liberty does not lie through slavery." Congress did attempt to limit Breckenridge’s war powers, but in a way remarkably similar to Lincoln’s, he simply ignored them and continued to suspend the writ of habeas corpus on his own authority.

John H. Winder​

Aside from fatal internal dissent, the Confederacy could add economic woes to its list of problems. The Cotton Kingdom had boasted of its economic wealth in the antebellum, but this meant that most Confederate capital was “tied up in the nonliquid form of land and slaves”. Breckenridge’s frantic efforts to sell as much cotton as possible before the Union blockade closed all ports had managed to add a little gold to the Confederacy’s coffers, but the fact was that the South desperately lacked specie. Yeoman farmers, mostly self-sustaining, had little need for it, while planters were for the most part in debt to Northern banks and firms and thus had little money to invest. Though the Confederacy had decreed that this debt should be paid to the Treasury in exchange for Confederate bonds, most planters preferred to conceal their debts. It was clear that revenue would have to be raised through other means.

However, attempts at establishing direct taxation floundered, mostly because the government lacked the bureaucracy necessary to enforce it and had to rely on states which previous to the war had collected few taxes and were rather opposed to them on principle. The result was that only South Carolina actually collected a 0.5% tax on real and personal property enacted in August 1861, while “all the other states paid their quotas not by collecting the tax, but by borrowing the money or printing it in the form of state notes.” Unfortunately for Richmond, this meant that little money was raised through taxes. Tariffs were also unsuccessful, due to a combination of Southern hostility to protectionism and the difficulties of trading through the blockade.

Efforts to finance the war through bonds also failed miserably because Southerners lacked money to invest. As McPherson says, Southerners “had to dip deeply into their reserves of patriotism to buy bonds at 8 percent when the rate of inflation had already reached 12 percent a month by the end of 1861.” Bleak Confederate prospects also eroded the trust of the people in eventual victory, which also lowered the sales of bonds. Treasury Secretary Memminger did create a “produce loan” that allowed farmers to buy bonds with their produce, but many preferred to sell it to Northerners who could pay in specie. Besides, even when that produce did reach government warehouses, the blockade meant that it couldn’t be sold. While in the North bonds sales were wildly successful, in the Confederacy they did not raise enough to sustain the armies of the fledging nation. In desperation, the Confederate government looked towards the printing press for salvation.

In this case, the remedy, if a remedy it was, was worse than the illness. Soon enough, millions of notes “that depreciated from the moment they came into existence” were printed. The government promised it would redeem them at specie after the end of the war, which meant that the notes were in effect “backed by the public's faith in the Confederacy's potential for survival”. The South’s weak economy and the bad course of the war thus meant that making them legal tender like the Union greenback would be inexpedient. Unable to coin its own money, the Confederacy allowed Union coins and even foreign currency to be circulated at fixed prices. To supplement this, small-denomination notes called “shinplasters” were also issued, though soon enough “individuals were cranking out unauthorized shinplasters by the thousands”.

A Confederate Grayback​

All other “grayback” denominations were similarly affected by counterfeiting, chiefly because the quality of the notes was so low that sometimes counterfeit notes were superior to the genuine article. Southern state governments, cities, and even insurance companies issued their own notes, also contributing to the problem. Ruinous inflation and the lack of goods due to the blockade caused hardship in many families, and even those with comfortable salaries were hard pressed to maintain themselves with prices “rising at an almost constant rate of 10 per cent a month.” Alongside the discontentment already generated by the draft, this inflation caused a morale crisis that threatened to sink the Confederacy by fatally weakening popular support for it.

Mary Chesnut’s diary entries are proof of this. Towards the end of 1862 she wrote that "the Confederacy has been done to death by the politicians." Mary, the wife of the influential South Carolinian James Chesnut Jr., was certainly not poor, but a majority of poor Confederates probably shared her opinion and blamed the government for the hard times they had to endure. "There is now in this country much suffering amongst the poorer classes of Volunteers families," a Mississippi man reported “In the name of God, I ask is this to be tolerated? Is this war to be carried on and the Government upheld at the expense of the Starvation of the Women and children?" A supply officer would remark that "our battle against want and starvation is greater than against our enemies," while a woman wrote Breckinridge to declare that "If I and my little children suffer [and] die while there Father is in service I invoke God Almighty that our blood rest upon the South."

Dedicated to the cultivation of cash crops, the South had imported most of its food from Northern states. A patriotic effort to replace cotton and tobacco cultivation with corn and wheat started. Some states even forbid people from planting cotton, and to assure that grain would be used to feed the hungry they also prohibited the distillation of alcohol. Although Steven A. Channing claims that “unquestionably, the South managed to raise more than enough food to sustain the entire population”, the sad fact was that this food often rotted in far away barns while soldiers and civilians suffered from hunger due to the poor infrastructure and crumbling rail system of the Confederacy. Burdened with such impossible difficulties, the Confederate economy, and indeed the Confederacy itself, seemed ready to collapse unless some radical change managed to renew the people’s confidence.

In rode Robert E. Lee and his lean troopers to save the day. The Army of Northern Virginia, so dispirited after the defeats it had sustained under Beauregard and Johnston, had recuperated and was now ready to follow him on to victory. Most rebels were painfully aware that defeat meant the destruction of the Confederacy. They had to win, a soldier said, otherwise “we will lose everything we hold dear to the Lincolnite brigands . . . the very survival of our families hinges of this campaign.” “The protection of our homes from devastation and of our families from outrages depend on us,” a Virginia soldier declared, while an Alabama comrade added that if they failed “we will suffer the worst punishment ever inflicted on any people. We have to triumph.”

The Emancipation Proclamation stiffened their resolve, for they realized that defeat now meant the end of slavery and, they feared, the end of White Supremacy too. An Arkansas private wrote that if they were defeated then his "sister, wife, and mother are to be given up to the embraces of their present male servitors", and a Georgian feared Union victory because then they would be “irrevocably lost and not only will the negroes be free but . . . we will all be on a common level." Most soldiers probably agreed with a North Carolina soldier that boldly declared that he fought to show the Yankees “that a white man is better than a nigger.” Motivated by defense of hearth, family and slavery, Lee and his rebels went forward to face McClellan and the Union Army in November, 1862.

General Lee and his commanders. Secretary of War Davis was present for the battle, representing President Breckenridge. ​

In order to inflict a devastating defeat on the Federals, Lee had concentrated all available Confederate forces around Richmond. The canny Virginian was able to see that McClellan “will make this a battle of posts. He will take position from position, under cover of heavy guns, & we cannot get at him without storming his works, which with our new troops is extremely hazardous. . . . It will require 100,000 men to resist the regular siege of Richmond, which perhaps would only prolong not save it.” According to Ethan S. Rafuse, “Lee would enjoy numerical superiority with 112,220 men present for duty to McClellan’s 81,434”, but in the Confederate case this takes into account divisions that were, in fact, not present for duty. The most obvious example was that there were Confederate troops in the Shenandoah Valley and at Manassas, engaged in a tense standoff with Nathaniel Banks and John C. Frémont’s Union commands. Nonetheless, it cannot be denied that, for perhaps the only time in the entire war, the Army of Northern Virginia and the Army of the Susquehanna had roughly equal numbers.

McClellan could have easily surpassed Lee’s total numbers had he been able to bring the Union troops around Washington to the Peninsula. Some divisions had left Washington after it became apparent that almost the entire Confederate force was concentrated around Richmond. This gradually increased McClellan’s army’s size to 90,000 men, but the commander still believed himself outnumbered and clamored for more troops. In November 7th, he decided to lay siege on Richmond, justifying his decision by saying that he lacked enough numbers to directly assault the rebels. Lee, by that point, was already aware of McClellan’s timidity, and knew he would not act unless he was reinforced. Naturally, Lee decided that he could not allow any more troops to come from Washington, and to do so, he knew he had to threaten the city.

Lee may well have read Lincoln’s letter to McClellan explaining that Washington’s safety was a “question which the country will not allow me to evade”, for he proposed to send Stonewall Jackson to the Valley. A raid into Maryland and Pennsylvania, Lee hoped, “would call all the enemy from our Southern coast & liberate those states.” After relieving the pressure on Richmond through this attack, Jackson would be recalled to Richmond and would join Lee for an attack on the Union flank on the north side of the Chickahominy. This action was possible because part of McClellan’s army had crossed the river to prepare for the siege. While Lee prepared a line that could be held with only a fraction of the 60,000 actives he actually held at his disposal, Stonewall Jackson headed towards the Valley, about to pass into history.

In November 17th, 1862, Jackson and his “foot cavalry” marched across the blue ridge, misleading the Federals who believed he was pulling back to Richmond as well. But after reaching Charlottesville, they went back over the Blue Ridge to Staunton and inflicted a painful defeat on a smaller Union command that was part of Frémont’s force. Aided by rebel sympathizers such as Belle Boyd who informed them of Union movements and troops dispositions, Jackson managed to similarly mislead and divide the rest of the troops and overwhelm a Union force at Front Royal. This offensive had been very taxing on the poor soldiers, many of whom suffered immensely from privation and exhaustion. But Jackson spared them no sympathy. One soldier, for example, reported that "If a man's face was as white as cotton and his pulse so low you could scarcely feel it, he looked upon him merely as an inefficient soldier and rode off impatiently."

Their sacrifices, however, earned them great victories. They continued to push the disorganized Federals who were fleeing to Winchester and leaving behind “such a wealth of food and medical stores that Jackson's men labeled their opponent ‘Commissary Banks’”. A panicked Lincoln, knowing that he could not afford to lose Washington a second time, ordered Frémont to pursue Jackson and, more importantly, suspended the transfer of Hooker’s troops from Washington to the Peninsula, ordering him to send two divisions to the Valley and retain the 30,000 men he still had in order to defend Washington. Whether the events that followed were the fault of Lincoln for attempting to play military chess or the fault of the generals in command for failing to follow his orders is a point of contention, but the fact of the matter is that the offensives of Frémont, Banks and Hooker were chaotic and ineffective.

Stonewall Jackson's Way​

The result was predictable: Union troops failed to attack the rebels when they had the opportunity, and they were in turn divided and overwhelmed by Jackson’s smaller force. Frémont failed to close Jackson’s southern escape route through Strasburg, and then failed to capture them as they reached Port Republic, the only intact bridge on the Shenandoah. When he finally faced Ewell’s division at Cross Keys, he didn’t commit his entire force even though he outnumbered Ewell, and then did nothing as one of the divisions sent by Hooker was defeated by Jackson. Jackson and Ewell then joined and together defeated Frémont, who also earned a nickname – “the Retreat-finder of the West.” After this victory, Jackson and his men returned to Richmond, where they finally could rest.

Jackson’s Valley campaign well earned its reputation as a brilliant offensive. With only 17,000 men, Stonewall Jackson defeated three different Union commands that far outnumbered him if put together. More importantly, he had diverted 60,000 men from the Peninsula and disrupted the reinforcement of McClellan’s army, thus playing a pivotal role in the victory that followed. Without Jackson, Hooker would have been able to completely reinforce McClellan, and though many doubt that the Union commander would have acted even if he had concentrated his entire force, Jackson’s actions still meant that the Confederates were not hopelessly outnumbered but could go toe to toe against the Yankees.

As the middle of December approached, the Chickahominy grew thanks to the rain of that unusually wet winter. Strong rains soon destroyed the bridges McClellan’s engineers had built, the only connection between the two wings of his army. The Northern wing, under the command of McClellan’s protégées, was expected to join with Hooker’s reinforcements, and consequently was smaller than the Southern wing. The Northern wing was, furthermore, “in the air”, that is, “unprotected by natural or man-made obstacles such as a river, right-angle fortifications, etc.”, a fact discovered by Jeb Stuart’s reconnaissance. This combination of factors may have seemed providential to Lee, who knew that men such as Porter would display timidity similar to McClellan’s instead of the initiative and ferocity needed to withstand an all-out attack. In December 21st, Lee started his attack against “those people”, the term he always used to refer to the Yankees.

As in the Valley, the attack was spearheaded by Jackson, who had been instructed to “sweep down between the Chickahominy and Pamunkey, cutting up the enemy’s communications.” This attack would entail an assault on the rear of Porter’s corps, which would then allow Lee to go forward and demolish his front. To make sure that McClellan would not intervene, a fake deserter was sent to tell the Union General that Lee actually planned to attack his southern flank. McClellan choose to believe this “very peculiar case of desertion”, in spite of the fact that some escaped contrabands had told him that Lee actually planned an attack by Jackson at Hanover Court House. Either McClellan’s arrogant contempt for Lee or his racism, amplified by the Emancipation Proclamation, has been blamed by this mistake; either way, the fact of the matter is that McClellan was nowhere to be found while Porter was assaulted at Mechanicsville.

The Battle of Mechanicsville​

Though Porter counted with quality field fortifications, his infantry was badly demoralized. The destructive disarray within the Army of the Susquehanna meant that Porter and his commanders had trouble communicating, and at times political feuds, mainly over Emancipation, seemed more important than actually facing the enemy. Porter was surprised by Jackson’s attack, having assumed that McClellan and the Union left were ready to assault Richmond. Operating under this assumption, Porter turned and gave battle, and was caught unprepared when Lee swept forward. It seemed now that he would be crushed between two rebel pincers. Porter, however, refused to give in, believing that McClellan’s impending attack would force Lee back. Later, he declared that discussions with McClellan the previous day had made him believe that he was to oppose any offensive ‘‘even to my destruction.’’

That’s exactly what happened on December 22nd, when the rebel pincers closed and Porter’s corps finally broke. McClellan was finally roused from his slumber and had ordered him to retreat to Gaines’ Mill, a much stronger position, but it was too late, and instead of regrouping at Gaines’ Mill, Porter’s corps divided, with many soldiers fleeing northwards. Only some pitiful remains managed to cross the Chickahominy and reunite with the rest of the army. At this critical point, McClellan may have still seized victory from the jaws of defeat by going forward and attacking Richmond, thus stopping Lee’s attack and taking the rebel capital. The skeleton force he faced certainly would be unable to resist, but McClellan was still under the delusion that he actually faced an overwhelming force instead of 90,000. “I may be forced to give up my position”, he informed Stanton, “Had I twenty thousand fresh and good troops would be sure of a splendid victory tomorrow.”

At Mechanicsville, Porter had lost only 8,000 of the 30,000 men he had due to direct combat, but the rout at the very end of the battle meant that only 15,000 men remained on the North of the Chickahominy. Now Lee had 60,000 men in McClellan’s right, alongside some 30,000 in his front, the same 30,000 he had refused to assault earlier. McClellan was now, for the first time, actually outnumbered – 75,000 to Lee’s 90,000. His excellent defenses and superior artillery meant that he could have probably withstood Lee’s attacks long enough for reinforcements to come. Or he could do as General John Pope, recently brought from the West, suggested and retreat along the York River. McClellan, however, lost his nerve and decided to instead retreat to the James River. This decision would allow him to protect his army, his retreat route, and his supply lines, but it would move the Army of the Susquehanna away from the doorstep of Richmond. It was clear that McClellan’s priority was not taking Richmond, but saving his army, supposedly in mortal peril.

Declaring that he had suffered a “severe repulse to-day, having been attacked by greatly superior numbers”, he moved forward with his plans to evacuate to the James, ordering his supply depot at White House destroyed. Unfortunately for the Union, the indefatigable Stonewall Jackson managed to capture it before it was destroyed. McClellan, nonetheless, continued his retreat. As Rafuse points out, his other options were not much better: if he fled along the York as Lee hoped, he would leave his flanks open, while assaulting Richmond would strain his logistics. A bold general may well have made that attack, but McClellan prioritized having a clear escape route and a direct supply line, and thus could not do so. The day after the Mechanicsville disaster, he wired Philadelphia to say that "The rebel force is stated at 200,000, including Jackson . . . I shall have to contend against vastly superior odds. . . . If [the army] is destroyed by overwhelming numbers . . . the responsibility cannot be thrown on my shoulders; it must rest where it belongs."

The Army of the Susquehanna retreats​

While McClellan panicked, “paralyzed by fear, delusion, and exhaustion”, Lee acted. Jackson once again attack the Federals, and the reputation he had earned at the Valley gave him such a psychological edge over his adversaries that they put up but little resistance as the rebels attacked the Union right. Meanwhile, A. P. Hill, aided by a feint made by Longstreet, assailed the Union center. The remnants of Porter’s corps were finally destroyed as McClellan refused to reinforce them, more preoccupied with securing his retreat to the James. The bluecoats lost another 8,000 to combat and 2,000 more were captured, including Porter. The north flank of the Army of the Susquehanna had now been completely destroyed, and now Lee could focus on the southern flank. On December 25th, a wide offensive started and hit the retreating McClellan on the flank.

As McClellan retreated, he sent a defiant telegraph to Washington. "I have lost this battle because my force was too small. . . . The Government has not sustained this army. . . . If I save this army now, I tell you plainly that I owe no thanks to you or to any other persons in Washington. You have done your best to sacrifice this army." Stanton and Lincoln, waiting anxiously in the telegraph station of the War Department, could not believe their eyes as they read this unsubordinated message, yet they could not remove McClellan because to do so in the middle of such catastrophe would only create an even bigger disaster. Mentally whipped, his will broken by the events of the last few days, McClellan did not exhibit decision, initiative or valor as Lee scored a Cannae.

On December 26th, McClellan abandoned three Union divisions that were guarding some 7,000 wounded men, and although the Yankees offered stout resistance, at the end they had to surrender and Hill took some 12,000 captives. McClellan similarly abandoned several divisions at White Oak Swamp, where seven Confederate divisions converged on five Union divisions. Finally, the Army of the Susquehanna stopped at Malvern Hill, near their destination. The high ground was bound to protect them, but the will of the Yankees was completely destroyed. Stragglers fell by the thousands, wounded men were left behind, commanders were captured, and weapons and ordinance were abandoned – Lee and his men reaped some 50,000 small arms and almost 40 cannons.

The Battle of Malvern Hill​

More importantly, most of the few men McClellan trusted were on the North side of the Chickahominy – and that part of the army had been destroyed. The men who were with McClellan were the “abolitionist” officers he often showed contempt for, and many of the men were fatally demoralized by defeat. Some have claimed that the Emancipation Proclamation also caused a morale crisis among the ranks, for a good part of the men refused to fight for emancipation, but this narrative has been questioned. In any case, on December 28th, rebel shells hit the Union defenses, and the Yankee response was feeble and disjointed even though its artillery was superior. Longstreet and Hill followed this with an assault that would have been murder under normal circumstances, but by then the enemy was so dispirited that they could not mount an effective defense.

A Union corps, under the command of Sumner, an anti-McClellan general, was surrounded by the rebels. Considering that to save the rest of his army he needed to abandon Sumner, McClellan refused to counterattack and continued his retreat to the James. Brigadier General Philip Kearny exploded at hearing the news, exclaiming that "Such an order can only be prompted by cowardice or treason. . . . We ought instead of retreating to follow up the enemy and rescue our comrades." Dark whispers abounded claiming that McClellan abandoned Sumner as a punishment for his “radicalism”; Lincoln himself said that McClellan’s behavior was “unpardonable” and that he “wanted Sumner to fail.” Finally, McClellan and what remained of his army arrived at Harrison’s Landing and departed. The besieged Sumner, his will broken by McClellan’s treachery, surrendered his command a week later.

Altogether, the Army of the Susquehanna had lost two of its corps, or a total of 50,000 men killed or captured. Of the 40,000 men who fled with McClellan, 10,000 were wounded. The rebels had lost just 20,000 men, which was a dear price indeed, but was more than justified taking into account just how disastrous the battle had been for the Union. Perhaps Lee was too sanguine in his pronouncement that “those people” had been destroyed. What cannot be denied is that at the end of the Nine Days' Battles Lee had achieved a gigantic success, not only defeating the Federal tactically at every encounter, but saving his capital and the Confederacy itself. This Cannae, however, was deeply ironical, for in assuring the prolongation of the war Lee also assured the eventual destruction of slavery and everything the South fought for. But as 1863 started and the news of this catastrophe reached the North, many Northerners started to fear that Confederate victory was inevitable.

 

[Red_Galiray]

The extent of the Peninsula disaster cannot be understated. At the start of November, it had seemed like the Army of the Susquehanna was about to capture Richmond and end the rebellion. Two months later, and the Union had suffered a terrible and disgraceful defeat, its shattered army ingloriously fleeing Lee’s pursuing rebels. As consternation gave way to cheerful celebration in the South, the North and the Lincoln administration, fresh from a victory in the 1862 midterms, suddenly saw its fortunes reserved and fell into the depths of despair and melancholy. The President, more than anybody else, recognized just how tremendous this defeat had been, shown from his exclamation when he received a telegraph informing him that half of the Army had been destroyed: “My God! My God! What will the country say!”

As McPherson succinctly puts it, the country “said plenty, all of it bad.” “This year shall always be known as the DARKEST YEAR of American history,” despaired George Templeton Strong. "We are utterly and disgracefully routed, beaten, whipped.” "On every brow sits sullen, scorching, black despair,” wrote Horace Greeley to Lincoln, while Charles Sumner, upon receiving the news, is said to have cried “Lost, lost, all is lost!” Quartermaster General Meigs lamented that “Confidence and hope are dying…. I see greater peril to our nationality in the present condition of affairs than I have seen at any time during the struggle.” The President, his personal friend Noah Brooks said, appeared “so broken, so dispirited, and so ghostlike” by the state of affairs. Was the Union cause lost?

Joyous Confederates believed so, as they celebrated their glorious Cannae. Thomas R. R. Cobb said that Lee’s campaign “has secured our independence,” and the veteran Fire-eater Edmund Ruffin agreed, declaring that “this hard-fought battle is virtually the close of the war”. Newspapers urged Lee to follow-up his victory by "a dash upon Philadelphia, & the laying it in ashes . . . as full settlement & acquittance for the past northern outrages”. The Richmond Whig declared that "The breakdown of the Yankee race, their unfitness for empire, forces dominion on the South. We are compelled to take the sceptre of power. We must adapt ourselves to our new destiny.” "The fatal blow has been dealt this 'grand army' of the North," wrote a Richmond diarist, “I shall not be surprised if we have a long career of successes.”

General Lee, naturally, received the effusive gratitude of his country. Lee, a Richmond newspaper said, had "amazed and confounded his detractors by the brilliancy of his genius . . . his energy and daring. He has established his reputation forever, and has entitled himself to the lasting gratitude of his country.” Secretary of War Davis congratulated Lee for his victory over a foe “vastly superior to you in numbers and in the material of war” and expressed confidence that he would go on to “drive the invader from our soil, and carry our standards beyond the outer bounds of the Confederacy.” Even Breckenridge let himself be carried away by the excitement, and the usually gloomy statesman soon issued a grandiose proclamation: “Soldiers, press onward! . . . Let the armies of our Confederacy continue with their monumental discipline, bravery, and activity, and our brethren of our sister States [Maryland and Kentucky] will soon be released from tyranny, and our independence be established on a sure and abiding basis.”

The Nine Days​

Just like Lee was the hero of the hour in the South, in the North General McClellan was demonized as the architect of the worst military disaster in American history. Northern Governors reported riots where he was hung and even burned in effigy, and several regiments quickly wrote proclamations accusing him of cowardice, and even treason for “leaving behind our brave comrades” to be captured “by traitors and slavers.” The fact that some contrabands had been left behind as well caused great moral outrage in the North among abolitionists, and even some people usually not concerned with the welfare of Negroes could not help by feel pity for the slaves and fury at the casual cruelty committed against them – after all, everybody well knew what their fate would be now that they were “trapped by the hateful clutches of bondage” again.

Even McClellan, for all his ego and vainglory, seemed taken aback by the extent of the disaster. He had not failed to win as in previous occasions, this time he had been defeated, and knowing this was painful. “Several regrettable mistakes were committed during the campaign”, he confided to his wife, “and I must admit that anxiety and want of sleep caused me to not perform as I should have.” Even McClellan’s soldiers, who had been hitherto so loyal to their commander, turned on him. A visit to the army camps punctuated this, for instead of cheering and throwing their hats high on the air, the soldiers threw rocks and hissed at McClellan. “The terrible knowledge that he would abandon us if he judged it necessary to save himself”, a private wrote home, “has made the Army realize that we have not got a man on horseback but a treasonous idiot in charge.”

For all that McClellan complained of political intrigue, in this case it was the self-serving politicians who came to the rescue. Or at least tried to. Seizing news from Jackson’s Valley Campaign, including some reports from the reckless and bitter Frémont, some National Unionists asserted that the failure in the Peninsula had been Lincoln’s fault, not McClellan. By diverting troops from the Peninsula to the Valley, they argued, Lincoln had “disastrously and irremediably” deprived McClellan of strength he needed right then. Some historians have also declared that this decision was a blunder, but Lincoln certainly can’t be blamed for McClellan’s numerous mistakes. In this case, it seems that the Chesnuts were simply grasping at straws, trying to find a way, any way, of protecting their champion and blaming the Lincoln administration for the failure. One even frankly admitted that McClellan’s conduct “could not and ought not to be defended or tolerated” and that in trying to defend him they were only “harming the national cause” in the name of rabid partisanship.

Thus, concluded several historians, National Unionist attempts at defending McClellan were not so much for the benefit of the General but a vain attempt to lay the blame on Lincoln, motivated by the “shocking and traumatizing” results of the 1862 midterms. Whether the midterms were in actuality an endorsement by the American people of Emancipation and the Lincoln administration is still contended, but it still was widely interpreted as such at the time. It’s clear that, had Lee expulsed McClellan from the Peninsula a few weeks earlier, the results would have been very different. The few War Unionists who were willing to defend McClellan clearly realized that this was a wildly unpopular move, and had to contend instead with incessant attacks and recriminations from the Copperhead half of the party, who loudly proclaimed that the Peninsula disaster demonstrated, once and for all, that it was impossible to subdue the South by force of arms and to try would only bring bloodshed and suffering.

The Peninsula Disaster destroyed McClellan's reputation. Though he continued to claim, till the end of his life, that Lee had outnumbered him and that the defeat was Lincoln's fault, he was cashiered from the Army and later convicted by a Court Martial of insubordination and cowardice. ​

The fact that the Republicans had won big, and a few weeks later, McClellan, a National Unionist who had indiscreetly expressed his hate for emancipation and radicalism, had been soundly defeated inspired dark rumors in Philadelphia. Had McClellan not thrown away chances to defeat the rebels decisively at Annapolis and Anacostia? Why hadn’t he attacked Lee when he was distracted and vulnerable? Why had he abandoned Sumner and Potter? Stanton, already an irascible man, was completely furious at the news, especially due to McClellan’s provocative and insubordinate last telegram that attempted to lay the blame on the administration. Congressional Republicans shared his ire, with Senator Wade going as far as asking permission to “guillotine the traitor General”, one hopes in a figurative sense. President Lincoln, however, felt that he had to deal with McClellan personally.

Normally a calm man, Lincoln was incensed by the cowardice McClellan had shown, and even more so by McClellan’s self-serving attempts to defend himself. In response to a wildly inaccurate report released by McClellan claiming that he was greatly outnumbered and the Administration had set him up for failure, Lincoln released documents contesting Lee’s numbers. The documents also proved that McClellan’s only substantial success, the Battle of Anacostia, had been thanks to Lincoln, for McClellan originally had intended to employ a strategy similarly to the one that had brought unmitigated disaster on the Peninsula. Lincoln, it was clear, had no more time for McClellan’s insubordination or his lack of commitment to the Union cause. Two weeks after he had returned from Virginia, McClellan was dishonorably discharged from the Army and the Committee on the Conduct of War was given permission to investigate whether formal charges were to be levied against him.

Able politician he was, Lincoln could recognize how delicate the situation was. Most of the opposition had decided that defending McClellan was not beneficial to their cause, but even if they had forsaken the former General they were still bitterly opposed to Lincoln and the Republicans. Chesnuts were thus able to find an ingenious third way that allowed them to blame both Lincoln and McClellan for the defeat, usually by saying that the whole disaster had been Lincoln’s fault for appointing and keeping such an incapable commander in the first place. It was a very cynical move, especially taking into account that these same Chesnuts were proclaiming their loyalty to Little Mac and defending him against Radical critics just a few weeks earlier. Moreover, they claimed that in issuing the Emancipation Proclamation Lincoln had caused such a serious moral crisis that it was no wonder that the Dixie boys had whipped them.

The siren song of the Copperheads was especially powerful when it came to enticing men who had been willing to accept emancipation if it meant military victory. Now they believed Chesnut propaganda that the contrary was true, and that emancipation actually resulted in military disaster. Calls for the Proclamation to be repealed and the war returned to “its true and wise constitutional principles” abounded, but Lincoln held firm, claiming that the Emancipation Proclamation constituted a promise that must be kept and that to repeal it would go against the honor of the nation. Copperheads then turned to saying that the Peninsula defeat was brought by emancipation, and that further disaster would be brought by it again in the future, and consequently the war could only be ended by negotiation instead of the “bloody and despotic” prosecution of an emancipation war.

The Copperheads were widely reviled as supporters of the rebellion and disunion​

Veritable legions of people joined the Copperheads in the immediate aftermath of the Peninsula Campaign, mostly fueled by bitterness against an Administration “that has fed vile lies to the people” in an effort “to continue a war for the benefit of niggers”. The War Unionists, who had rallied against the Copperheads as unpatriotic, now were completely discredited. Many considered them to be misguided fools at best and “tools of the Black Republicans and their objectives of massacre and rapine” at worst. The National Union consequently became a completely Copperhead party, that worked not only to undermine Lincoln’s ideological objectives but the very prosecution of the war, doing all they could to subvert the authority of the government and lower the moral of the people.

Even some Republicans were more willing to assign the blame to Lincoln, like a New York man who wrote that “Things look disastrous. . . . I find it hard to maintain my lively faith in the triumph of the nation and the law.” The more conservative Republicans, already fatally alienated due to the Emancipation Proclamation, now completely deserted the Republican Party, an event marked by the Blair family’s proposal to “dispense with the support of the Radicals and the slave question” and create “a party consecrated to Constitutional peace and reunion”. As usual, strong racism characterized this opposition, for they proclaimed that continuing the war would place the South under the rule of “a semibarbarous race of blacks who are worshippers of fetishes and poligamists,” and wanted to “subject the white women to their unbridled lust.”

This incendiary rhetoric resulted in major outbreaks of violence throughout the North, as mobs took to the streets to attack symbols of government authority and lynch Negroes. For example, and despite the great need for manpower, Southern Illinois yeomen violently drove away contrabands the War Department had brought to help along with the harvest. Angry multitudes even demanded for new elections, claiming that the 1862 midterms were invalid because the “whole pernicious results” of the Proclamation hadn’t been clear yet when the balloting took place. Lincoln, Seward, Stanton, and other Republicans were burned in effigies as mobs howled for the blood “of every single damn radical and the niggers they so love.” “The ascendancy is with the Blairs,” wrote Charles Sumner sadly.

Just like how Lee’s victory was deeply ironical in how it assured the future destruction of the South, this bitter and violent opposition ironically contributed to the further radicalization of the Republican Party, Lincoln and the Union cause as a whole. Undoubtedly, some Republicans followed the Blairs and became Copperheads, but the great majority of Republicans, both politicians and voters, remained loyal to the Lincoln administration and faulted McClellan and the National Unionists completely for the disaster. The Republican victory in 1862, detailed analysis has shown, was not due to National Unionists voting for them. Instead, Republican turnout remained as high as 1860 while it greatly fell in Chesnut areas. These rioters, consequently, were not alienated Republicans but Chesnut who had never and would never support the administration anyway – there was no reason to try and mollify them.

Copperhead propaganda made effective use of racism in order to arose the opponents of the Lincoln government​

Lincoln, of course, could not know this due to a lack of precise statistical models, but he and the great majority of Republicans considered the election results a vote of confidence and were right in believing that the people who opposed them did not represent a majority but a loud and violent minority. Their turnabout regarding McClellan and their insistence that the Peninsula had been the fault of both McClellan and Lincoln did much to turn ambivalent citizens against them. Some War Unionists even joined the Republicans, horrified by the pro-peace message of the Copperheads, and anti-Negro violence converted a few lukewarm supporters into full-fledged abolitionists. “The depths of depravity shown by these men,” a Maryland Unionist said, “have only convinced me that the government must be more decisive in its protection of the rights of all citizens, without regard to color.”

“The great mass of the people,” Secretary Seward assured the President, “stand loyally with the Union against traitors both North and South.” Indeed, the Copperheads were widely seen as disloyal elements that sided with the Confederacy and slavery against the government. If the opposition was only a disloyal minority and true Union men supported the administration and emancipation, then Lincoln was free to continue moving to the left in varied issues such as Black civil rights and the future of Reconstruction. Since, as McPherson explains, “in Republican eyes, opposition to Republican war aims became opposition to the war itself” and opposing the war was treason, the Republicans were free to dismiss their adversaries and press on with a war for Union and Liberty. Lincoln still occupied the moderate center of the party, but the Republicans as a whole had moved radically to the left since the start of the war, and violent Copperhead opposition did nothing to arrest this movement and instead stiffened their resolve to see the war through. Thus boldly declared Lincoln his intention to “maintain this contest until successful, or till I die, or am conquered . . . or Congress or the country forsakes me.”

While the Copperheads actively worked on making the country forsake Lincoln, Breckenridge and Lee were preparing to conquer the Union armies once again. Ever aggressive, Lee was already making plans to follow up on his victory by attacking the Federals at Manassas. From there, he could then invade Maryland and reestablish the Confederate government. Lee also had plans to destroy the remains of “those people”, that is, the two corps that remained of the Army of the Susquehanna plus the troops under Hooker. Secretary of War Davis was delighted by this, claiming that the Confederacy had not invaded the North simply due to a lack of arms but that now Lee “is fully alive to the advantage of the present opportunity, and will, I am sure, cordially sustain and boldly execute the President’s wishes to the full extent of his power.”

At first, it wasn’t clear whether such an offensive indeed reflected the wishes of the President, but Lee’s splendid victory had done much to convert Breckenridge from a defensive doctrine to the gospel of the offensive-defensive, and he was now ready to “seize the hour and strike for our liberty . . . I’ve never felt more like fighting.” With the army of the Susquehanna so utterly beaten and demoralized that it would take weeks, perhaps months to reconstruct it, there was a golden chance to assault Hooker’s force. The elan of this command was also affected after seeing the Peninsula disaster and being bested by Stonewall Jackson, so Lee expected a rather easy victory. He quickly prepared to go forward in an all-out attack before the remnants of the Army of the Susquehanna could come and bolster Hooker’s army.

Lincoln was painfully aware of this critical weakness. Fortunately, the logistical and material superiority of the Union remained intact, allowing for the troops to be quickly taken to Washington and for new armies to be organized. The fact that the Nine Days had taken place towards the end of December also helped, for the winter of 1862-1863 was cold and wet. Whereas that kind of weather had helped Lee by washing away McClellan’s bridges, it now complicated communications, resupply and transportation. No matter, Lee and his hardened rebels, some of them without shoes and surviving on little more than hardtack and wild onions, were determined to attack. For yes, it was true that the Union kept the material superiority, but Lee now had a psychological edge that was not easy to overcome.

Military failure lent strength to the Copperheads​

The Peninsula Campaign, for both Northerners and Southerners, had confirmed the old adage that a Southron could lick four Yankees, never mind past battles. It imbued the rebels with a strong espirit de corps that “did much to overcome the material superiority of the Union” and also caused “a gnawing, half-acknowledged sense of martial inferiority among northern officers in the Virginia theater”. It cannot be denied that the Peninsula Campaign was a disaster in material terms, but the greatest damage it did was to the Northern psyche – for many months afterward, and with the exception of a single half-victory, the Union was unable to take the initiative in the East, its soldiers and officers fearing another such defeat.

Lincoln had this demoralization in mind when he decided to renew the call for volunteers after the Nine Days. He feared, however, that "a general panic and stampede would follow” if he wasn’t careful. Seward engineered a clever scheme whereby the North’s governors would ask Lincoln to call new volunteers to “reinforce the Federals arms” and “speedily crush the rebellion”. The Secretary then proceeded to backdate the document to avoid the impression of it being a panicked response, but it’s doubtful whether anyone truly fell for this ruse. In any case, it allowed the administration to save some face, and in January 18th, 1863, Lincoln called for 300,000 men to “bring this unnecessary and injurious civil war to a speedy and satisfactory conclusion.” Among the men mustered into service in this time of crisis there were several black regiments.

Amid calls for volunteers to fight for “the old flag, for our country, Union, and Liberty” and stirring war songs like “We are coming Father Abraham! Three hundred thousand more!”, the Northern war machine geared up for another fight. Reform within the army was evidently needed. In January 28th, Lincoln dismissed Halleck, believing him ineffective and weak, and brough General Lyon from the West to be the new commander in-chief. Having proven himself an able man, aggressive yet practical, capable of both spurning subordinates into action or giving them necessary liberty, Lyon was definitely a step-up from Halleck, who had been little more than a glorified clerk. Grant, a man Lyon respected and admired, then became the highest-ranking Union commander in the West. Some “malcontents” were also exiled to distant posts, such as General Franklin, who disclaimed any loyalty for McClellan but had formed part of his clique previously.

The choice of who was to command the Army of the Susquehanna was more difficult. Burnside was considered, but the General was in charge of New Orleans, and though his rather heavy-hand was causing some tensions within the city, it would not do to remove him so soon. Besides, Burnside was considered a protégé of McClellan, even though their friendship had significantly cooled, and he even diffidently declared that he was not the right choice for the Army of the Susquehanna. Pope hadn’t been tested in battle, and was furthermore rather inept, earning the ire of his Eastern troops with a condescending proclamation: "I come to you out of the West, where we have always seen the backs of our enemies . . . I am sorry to find so much in vogue amongst you . . . certain phrases [like] . . . 'lines of retreat,' and 'bases of supplies.' . . . Let us look before us and not behind. Success and glory are in the advance, disaster and shame lurk in the rear.” No wonder, then, that Pope failed to endear himself to the Eastern commanders, who almost unanimously opposed his appointment.

That left Fighting Joe Hooker as the only real candidate. It wasn’t an easy choice, and Lincoln only took it reluctantly. A tall and muscular man with clear blue eyes, Hooker was extremely confident, but also extremely arrogant and prone to reckless criticism against his superiors, having denounced both McDowell and McClellan non-stop in the hopes of obtaining the command for himself. Despite having the appearance of a soldier, Hooker was a hard-drinker with headquarters that seemed “a combination of barroom and brothel,” to the point that some have incorrectly claimed that “hooker” became a synonym of “prostitute” thanks to him. Hooker had even irresponsibly told a reporter that “Nothing would go right until we had a dictator, and the sooner the better”. But he was still a senior commander who had had performed admirably in previous engagements. Lincoln decided to take a chance on him.

Fighting Joe Hooker obtained his sobriquet by his hard fighting at Anacostia, where he was practically abandoned by McClellan.​

Despite his moral defects, Hooker proved to be an inspirational and able commander, doing the best he could to instill moral and discipline back into a beaten command. Corrupt quartermasters were cashiered on the spot, while a much-needed emphasis on hygiene and alimentation improved the health of an army that had floundered under disease in the Peninsula. The disastrous desertions that for a while threatened to melt the army away declined, and administrative reforms such as making the cavalry a separate corps or creating insignias for each unit in order to instill pride helped along to revitalize the Army of the Susquehanna. Even an officer who heartily disliked Hooker had to admit that "I have never known men to change from a condition of the lowest depression to that of a healthy fighting state in so short a time."

This officer was overstating his point, for the month and a half that has lapsed since the Nine Days hadn’t been enough to completely restore the Army of the Susquehanna to its former glory. Morale remained low, and Hooker’s arrogant declaration that “May God have mercy on General Lee, for I will have none” did not inspire any confidence on him achieving any actual victory. Lincoln himself was rather perturbed by this bravado, telling a friend that “That is the most depressing thing about Hooker. It seems to me that he is overconfident.” Nonetheless, he sent Hooker a fatherly letter. “There are some things in regard to which, I am not quite satisfied with you,” Lincoln admitted, pointing out his bad relationship with his previous commanders. The President also signaled how Hooker had said that the country needed a dictator, stating that “it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I have given you the command. Only those generals who gain successes, can set up dictators. What I ask of you is military success, and I will risk the dictatorship.”

Lincoln then discussed the morale of the Army, warning that “the spirit which has overcome the Army, of doubting their capacities and criticizing their Commander, will now turn upon you. I shall assist you, as far as I can, to put it down. Neither you, nor Napoleon, if he were alive again, could get any good out of an army, while such a spirit prevails in it.” Despite these difficulties, Lincoln still expressed his confidence on Hooker, ending his missive by advising him to “Beware of rashness, but with energy, and sleepless vigilance, go forward, and give us victories.” Whether Hooker was up to the task was to be tested in a trial by fire on February 22nd, when Virginia’s muddy roads finally dried up enough for Lee and his rebels to swept forward and face their enemies once again.

Unfortunately for Hooker, Lee’s Army had also used those two months on winter quarters to rest and regroup. Morale was high as most rebels now expected a second glorious victory. Their first success had improved dramatically the morale at home, which translated into a better situation at the Homefront with Breckenridge’s government and the Confederate grayback strengthened. A new system of food transportation had resulted in better and bigger rations, and most men had replaced their rags with decent uniforms. Most even had shoes. Breckenridge so trusted Lee that veteran regiments guarding Richmond were allowed to go with him, leaving only some green troops to protect the Confederate capital. The dramatic losses the Army of the Susquehanna had suffered in the Peninsula allowed the Army of Northern Virginia to more or less match its numbers, having 80,000 men to the 100,000 Hooker could bring into battle – The Army of the Susquehanna hadn’t been reinforced to its full strength yet.

This was partly the result of dwindling war enthusiasm among the Northern public. Understandably, after such a terrible disaster and many bloody battles, few still believed in war as a glorious endeavor. The North still had an enormous pool of manpower, having mobilized only a third of its full potential, but actually getting them into the army was a challenge. The War Department soon enough started to offer bounties in order to entice men to volunteer, a process that later degenerated into “a mercenary bidding contest for warm bodies to fill district quotas.” But by far the most important measure was a Conscription Act that allowed the government to graft men into the Army through a red of provost marshals. Stanton, true to form, enforced the act with ruthless efficiency in spite of a violent Copperhead response that ended with at least five enrollment officials dead and required troops to be sent to enforce the draft in several states.

In due time conscription was able to bring hundreds of thousands of soldiers into the Armies of the Republic, but for the moment the messy and disorganized process was unable to muster more than a handful of regiments. Hooker would have to do with the men he had at the moment. On February 22nd, his scouts reported that the rebel regiments at Manassas junction had started to advance. It was none other than the feared Stonewall Jackson, doubtlessly ready to spearhead Lee’s offensive. Vowing that he would come no closer than that, Hooker decided to attack first, hoping to surprise and overcome Lee near a small stream called Bull Run. "Our enemy must ingloriously fly," boasted Hooker, "or come out from behind his defenses and give us battle on our own ground, where certain destruction awaits him."

The cruelty of war meant many men were reluctant to join the Army. As McPherson says, "the 300,000 more came with painful slowness." ​

Hooker’s attack was marred by its complexity. Most of the Army was divided into two parts, a couple of titanic pincers that was ready to crush Lee between them. His cavalry also advanced, intending to avenge previous embarrassments by sweeping to Lee’s rear and cutting his supply lines. Yet as the actual decisive hour approached, Fighting Joe hesitated and lost his nerve. After the battle, an officer declared that in hindsight this should have been expected, for "Hooker could play the best game of poker I ever saw until it came to the point where he should go a thousand better, and then he would flunk.” Troubling signals were already apparent, as Hooker talked not of defeating Lee on the field of battle, but just distracting him before starting a mad dash for Richmond. A dismayed Lincoln quickly told him that “Lee’s Army, and not Richmond, is your true objective point”, but it’s clear that Hooker had been invaded by a secret fear that Lee would destroy him like he had destroyed McClellan. Afraid of defeat, he did not even try to win.

On February 23rd, Jeb Stuart’s able troopers intercepted their Yankee rivals who had been able to tore up some railroads but had achieved little otherwise. The Federal cavalry was still far outmatched by the rebels, who taunted them as “pasty faced” and weak city boys who still felt uncomfortable on the saddle. With grim determination, the Union soldiers resisted for a while until Stonewall Jackson himself appeared on the scene and broke them with a charge of his foot cavalry. Amid calls of how the rebels were so superior that they did not even need horses to best the Federal cavalry, the Union retreated. Hooker then inexplicably decided to not continue his attack, and instead pulled back to a defensive position behind the Bull Run. The rebel troops then grouped in Henry House Hill, planning a daring counterattack. Lee’s plans called for Jackson to go “on a long clockwise flanking march to cut Union rail communications” in Hooker’s rear. It was practically the same maneuver Hooker had attempted, but Lee trusted Stuart and Jackson to do it successfully.

As night fell over Manassas, the screaming rebels went forth and captured Hooker’s supply depot, eating everything they could before burning the railroad tracks that Herman Haupt had worked so hard to maintain. Taking no time to rest, Jackson then attacked the Union right, commanded by his old foe "Commissary" Banks. In his haste to avenge his humiliating defeat at the Valley, Banks attacked without waiting for his entire force to gather. The result was that Jackson outnumbered him and easily crushed Banks a second time, while the terrified Hooker did nothing despite having two corps virtually idle nearby. The next day, Hooker was finally shocked from his trance when Lee and the rest of the Army of Northern Virginia broke through a gap in the Bull Run Mountains that Hooker had not defended adequately, believing that he was going on the offensive. An all-western brigade, mostly formed out of Indiana and Wisconsin regiments, resisted the rebel onslaught admirably, earning the name of the “Iron Brigade”. A Maine regiment under the command of a Maine university professor named Joshua Chamberlain also achieved moderate success, holding the rebels back for a while.

No matter the bravery of individual regiments, it wasn’t enough if the overall commander didn’t have enough courage and decisiveness to lead the entire Army onto victory. Instead of bravely rallying his troops into a general counterattack, Hooker sent them in in chaotic, piecemeal attacks. Although his bluecoats “came on with fatalistic fury and almost broke Jackson's line several times”, it wasn’t enough, and at the end of the day the Union had nothing to show except “mountains of corpses and rivers of blood”. All the while, the other half of both armies just stood to the side doing nothing, because Longstreet preferred to be on the defensive and had convinced Lee to allow him to wait until Hooker attacked him. But Hooker, at the same time, was so afraid of attacking that he also waited on the defensive. The entire battle thus retroactively gained the reputation of a bloody fiasco, for neither commander really brought his full strength to bear.

The third day, February 25th, Hooker refused to counterattack, afraid that it would allow Lee to destroy him. His officers protested, with General Darius Couch declaring that “I retired from his presence with the belief that my commanding general was a whipped man.” Hooker was indeed whipped, only continuing his ineffective piecemeal resistance while Stonewall Jackson’s screaming rebels continued to fight with high spirits. As in other occasions, the bravery of the Union troops surpassed that of their commanders, for the Federals almost managed to threw Jackson back. At one moment, after “one of the war's few genuine bayonet charges”, Chamberlain’s troops even managed to overrun the Southern position and plant the star and stripes high in the air. But then Longstreet suddenly went on the offensive, and a stampede followed as many blue regiments fled to the rear in panic. Completely defeated by now, Hooker ordered a retreat on February 26th, ending the Battle of Bull Run.

The Battle of Bull Run​

For the second time in less than four months, Lee had achieved a titanic success against the Union Army, which once again ingloriously fled. It could be said that the defeat was “not so much of the Army of the Susquehanna as of Hooker”, who went from arrogant bragging to an ineffective and quite cowardly performance. Nonetheless, this defeat only reinforced the fears of many Yankees and the ego of many rebels, who started to see Lee as something of an invincible juggernaut. Even past triumphs such as Baltimore, Second Maryland and Anacostia were retroactively seen as flukes, only achieved because Lee wasn’t on the field. This defeatist spirit would continue for many months, causing further disasters for the Union. With Lee and his celebrating rebels pursuing Hooker and the Copperheads gaining strength, it seemed like the Lincoln Administration would go down in defeat and slavery and treason would triumph.

 

[Red_Galiray]

The eastern theater of the American Civil War has usually received the lion’s share of attention and press, both during the war itself and even many years after the conflict. But in truth, even if the Union came close to losing the war in the East, at the end the Confederacy lost it in the West. This did not mean that the Union did not suffer severe seatbacks in that theater of war as well. The failures of 1862-1863 in both East and West combined to make these months the nadir of the Union cause and high-water mark of the Confederacy.

After taking Corinth on June, 1862, Grant settled down on his new headquarters at Memphis. A “secesh town” that bitterly resented Union rule, Memphis was in a state of constant upheaval. Corinth, too, was in a bad shape, as the horrors of a prolonged siege and deadly illnesses had left it “a town of burning houses, shattered windows, and rotting food dumped into the streets”. “Soldiers who fight battles do not experience half their horrors,” mused Grant to his wife. “All the hardships come upon the weak . . . women and children.” Grant was, altogether, a rather magnanimous conqueror, doing his best to listen to the grievances of the Southerners and protect them from being “rough handled” by his soldiers. One famous anecdote even has Grant personally striking a soldier who was assaulting a woman.

The Southern people, however, did not repay Grant’s kindness with the same token, but instead showed enormous support to the Confederate army and ruthless Southern partisans who were doing their best to impair Grant’s military operations. Cutting telegraph wires, destroying bridges and railroads, and attacking Union supply depots, these partisans were a constant danger. They were bolstered by their support among Southern civilians, who informed them of Union movement, smuggled contraband to sustain them, and provided them with homes to rest and regroup whenever Union cavalry forced them to disappear into the mountains. Grant’s situation was aggravated by the needs of other commanders, as several of his divisions were sent east to Don Carlos Buell’s Army of the Ohio in order to aid in the invasion of East Tennessee.

Grant recognized the simple fact that, unlike what some Northerners believed, the Confederacy actually enjoyed enormous popular support. And although he had been able to take the fighting to the very heart of the Confederacy, this meant that his supply lines were longer and many more soldiers were needed to protect them from rebel attacks. By contrast, retreating Southerners were able to concentrate their forces and even increase them as patrols guarding supply lines or garrisoning cities joined the main commands. Determined to engage in “a vigorous prosecution of the war by all the means known to civilized warfare” as Washburne said the administration intended to, Grant made Southern cities responsible for rebel raids and even threatened to “desolate their country for forty miles around every place” that Southern partisans attacked.

John Hunt Morgan was one of the more talented rebel raiders​

Grant marched in lockstep with the administration not only in the turn towards a hard war but also in the policies regarding the contrabands. An apolitical man who in later years admitted with some shame that he had voted for Buchanan in 1856 and had supported Lincoln only reluctantly, Grant had nonetheless undergone a political transformation. Whereas he had once believed that Northern radicals deserved as much blame for the start of the war as Southern fire-eaters, he now expressed strong anti-slavery views and great compassion for the contrabands. Accordingly, he received all the contrabands that came within his lines, giving them clothes, food and even tobacco. “I don’t know what is to become of these poor people in the end”, he admitted, but despite this Grant took decisive steps to aid the contrabands in their journey from slavery to freedom.

Grant’s most decisive action was probably appointing John Eaton as superintendent of contrabands in the Mississippi Valley in August, 1862, just a few weeks after the Emancipation Proclamation had been issued. A native of New Hampshire who had been educated in Dartmouth College before joining the army as the chaplain of an Ohio regiment, Eaton was a man of great compassion and ability. He would need both, for he faced a daunting task. Even before the Emancipation Proclamation, contrabands flocked to Union camps by the thousands; afterwards, their number increased dramatically. The army, “ill-equipped to function as a welfare agency”, had been unable to take adequate care of the former slaves, who huddled in makeshift shantytowns built around army camps, suffering from disease and exposure. Eaton recognized that he was trusted with “an enterprise beyond the possibility of human achievement”, yet he threw himself wholeheartedly behind it, doing his best to provide medicine, employment and education to the freedmen.

Eaton reported that Grant even envisioned a future where, after the Negro proved his worth as a soldier, it would be possible to “put the ballot in his hand and make him a citizen”, He went on to declare that “Obviously I was dealing with no incompetent, but a man capable of handling large issues. Never before in those early and bewildering days had I heard the problem of the future of the Negro attacked so vigorously and with such humanity combined with practical good sense.” Grant worked closely with his aides “to feed and clothe all, old and young, male and female,” and “to build them comfortable cabins, hospitals for the sick, and to supply them with many comforts they had never known before.” Grant was in many ways one of the commanders who did the most for the Freedmen. Frederick Douglass would forever warmly remember how Grant “was always up with, or in advance of authority furnished from Washington in regard to the treatment of those of our color then slaves.”

Grant also readily cooperated with Adjutant General Lorenzo Thomas. Sent West by the War Department to help along in the recruitment of Black troops, Thomas was engaged in a tireless crusade against prejudice within the army, for many Yankee soldiers still bitterly opposed the enlistment of Black soldiers. Grant and Thomas quickly forged a good partnership, Thomas even declaring himself “a Grant man all over.” Soon enough, some twenty-thousand Black men were taken from the contraband camps around the Army of the Tennessee and organized into a corps of U.S. Colored Infantry. Grant wired to Philadelphia that “At least three of my Army Corps Commanders take hold of the new policy of arming the negroes and using them against the rebels with a will”, adding too that the administration “may rely on my carrying out any policy ordered by proper authority to the best of my ability.” This willingness to faithfully execute the government’s policies instead of challenging them like other Generals did helps explain Grant’s success.

Lorenzo Thomas​

The new Black regiments were a welcome addition, for Grant desperately needed the manpower. In the middle of an enormous territory, Grant’s 50,000 bluecoats were but a “pittance” as Ron Chernow says. During most of this period Grant had no option but to play defense, even as he itched to start a general offensive against Vicksburg. At least Grant was safe from counterattacks, since A. S. Johnston too lacked the manpower to take the initiative. Both main armies simply warily watched each other, the only action taken during these months being a few skirmishes that, although hardly fought were rather inconsequential. Breckenridge was at that moment almost completely focused on the east, where it seemed like McClellan’s army was about to take Richmond. Believing that it was not the time for fruitless attacks, he ordered all commanders to simply hold their territory. Johnston was not completely happy with this decision, but he followed it nonetheless with soldierly good-faith.

However, the order did not exactly mean that no action whatsoever was allowed, and Johnston decided to start a series of “hit and run” attacks that would weaken Grant and stave off any campaign against Vicksburg. To simply sit and do nothing, Johnston argued, would not only fatally demoralize his command, but would also cede the initiative to the Union and allow them to concentrate their “abolitionist hordes and Negro soldiers” for an overwhelming attack. Quick and decisive engagements would, on the other hand, disorganize and delay Grant. Breckenridge was convinced by these arguments and allowed Johnston to proceed on the condition that no “permanent occupation” was sought. “It is of no use to liberate Tennessee if we lose Vicksburg”, the President reasoned. “As much as it pains me to admit it, our present resources forbid any attempt at invading the Yankee nation . . . The day shall come when Lincoln’s abolitionist hirelings are expulsed from our soil – for now, let us focus on defending the lands still under our control.”

Consequently, in September 1862, Johnston had hatched a plan to draw Grant into open battle, where he could possible suffer a defeat. Sterling Price was tasked with attacking the small town of Iuka, a “critical supply depot and railroad junction near Corinth in northeast Mississippi.” Price’s objective was to fool Grant into thinking that the Confederates were about to invade Tennessee. Having seized his rival, Johnston knew Grant would not remain on the defense but immediately seize the opportunity to destroy Price. To assure his success, Johnston also ordered Van Dorn to move against Corinth, whose great importance meant that Grant could not neglect its defense. Indeed, as soon as he heard of Iuka’s capture and that Corinth was being threatened, Grant sent Generals Ord and Rosecrans to face Price and Van Dorn respectively, Rosecrans, naturally, commanding the bigger force.

Price's raid was mostly cavalry bolstered by blood-thirsty partisans. Recruited to the call of "Come boys! Who wants to kill some Yankees?", these partisans had been sowing terror and devastation throughout Mississippi and Tennessee for many months. Their targets were not simply military anymore. Believing their very existence to be threatened by their foe, they engaged in a bloody campaign of destruction that murdered not only Union soldiers, but routinely razed the farms of Unionists or other people who didn't show, in their estimation, enough resistance to the Yankees. Their common modus operandi was to enter a city, murder all Union soldiers or militia, and then gather the people. Anybody who didn't pledge loyalty to the Confederacy and hate of the Union would be murdered in cold blood with spikes, so as to save ammunition. Lies were not a guarantee of safety, for the rebels oftentimes returned to punish those who had broken their pledges to resist the Union at all costs. Sometimes, the raiders would show the Confederate conscription law and kidnap youths to serve with them - anybody that refused, of course, "had his heart pierced like the abolitionist dog he was".

Negroes suffered the most, for they were presumed to be Unionist by default. Even those who had remained enslaved were sometimes whipped as a reminder; those who had acquired their freedom were enslaved again and punished severely, or simply massacred - "ain't no use for a nigger who likes freedom", the raiders would declare. During the course of the campaign, some of the contraband camps Eaton had established were burned to the ground, all of the freedmen massacred. One soldier would later testify to an appalling scene of carnage, where one such camp was attacked: The militia protecting the camp was driven in pursuit of these marauders, but then suddenly a much larger group appeared and gave no quarter. The men who surrendered had their throats slit. They then entered the camp and engaged in their vilest instincts, ravishing several Black women and even girls, burning alive or cutting the tongues or extremities of many contrabands, and then fleeing with at least twenty captives when a Union force finally approached.

William S. Rosecrans​

Rosecrans would have to face these kind of murderers, while Ord's secondary force was sent to Corinth. Rebel cavalrymen quickly advised Johnston, who had his reserved ready. While Rosecrans deflected Van Dorn's attacks with some ease, Johnston and his reserved quickly advanced, boolstering Price's force to 21,000, double the 10,000 bluecoats Ord had brought. The Union commander was surprised by the sudden arrival of another rebel command, which immediately advanced with murderous fury. Unfortunately for the rebels, lack of communications and coordination allowed Ord to escape destruction through a small gap in the Southern line, but his force had been badly bloodied, losing 4,000 men. At Corinth, Van Dorn simply left as soon as a courier told him of the results of the struggle, and an attempt to pursue them was called off by Grant, who wanted to keep Rosecrans around Corinth should Iuka just be the prelude of a larger assault.

In the great scheme, the Battle of Iuka was not of great importance. Grant convinced himself that Price was preparing for an invasion of Tennessee, which he believed would be disastrous, and that the Battle of Iuka was thus a victory. The rebels too failed in their goal of destroying part of the Union Army, but they at least inflicted a painful and humiliating defeat on their adversaries. Perhaps the most important consequence of Iuka was that it sowed seeds of discontent between Rosecrans and Grant. Grant considered Rosecrans, a fellow West Pointer nicknamed “Old Rosy” by troops who appreciated his jovial behavior, a “fine fellow”, but was disappointed by what he saw as lack of initiative.

Rosecrans for his part bitterly resented what he saw as unjust treatment, though events in the future would show that he indeed was slow to prepare and reluctant to fight despite at the same time possessing an enormous courage. McPherson aptly describes him as “a study in paradox”, though in the case of Iuka it seems that Old Rosy was not to fault, for he had performed well. Rosecrans, too, believed that calling off his pursuit was a mistake, and the press freely criticised Grant for it. Seizing on this, Rosecrans and his allies quickly exploited the press for his benefit, secretly planting malicious articles that depicted himself as a hero and Grant as a failure, especially magnifying the importance of Van Dorn's distraction (it's worth noting that whether Rosecrans himself also participated is contested). Rosecrans achieved greater success in the second rebel “hit and run.”

Price had not been satisfied by Iuka, believing that such tactics were simple cowardice and that the Confederates ought to invade Tennessee. Breckenridge still forbid an invasion, so Price settled for attacking Corinth in the hopes of retaking it. Johnston allowed him to proceed, secretly hoping that failure would allow him to get rid of Price who was more of a hindrance than anything. Johnston did admire Price’s will and courage, but he thought of him as reckless and insubordinate, and that although Price had the right offensive mindset, he needed to be more responsible and practical. In October, Price and Van Dorn joined for an attack on Corinth, in a day with a blazing sun. This battle “of short duration but unusual savagery” featured Rosecrans at his best, as he rallied back the men with courage and decisiveness. By the end of the day, Rosecrans’ “clothing was sprinkled with blood and pocked with bullet holes”. The following day, he led a counterattack that sent the rebels fleeing, having lost 5,000 men, double the Federal casualties.

It’s a shame that Rosecrans did not show the same capacity in the aftermath of the battle, where, instead of pursuing Price, he dithered for some fifteen hours before finally settling on a half-hearted pursuit that saw him take the wrong road. Grant was by then completely disillusioned with Rosecrans, whom he believed to lack assertiveness and decision. Rosecrans, a man who “didn’t take well to direction and always fancied himself in command”, was also against Grant. Rosecrans felt that Grant had not praised him enough for his heroic performance, and resented having to serve under him instead of commanding his own army. As almost all of Grant’s enemies did, Rosecrans levied accusations of drunkenness against Grant, claiming that he was “beastly intoxicated” after an afternoon of “drinking fine whisky and puffing on cigars” while Rosecrans saved the day at Corinth.

The Second Battle of Corinth is occasionally known as the Third Battle, if the siege of Corinth is taken into account. However, since Johnston abandoned Corinth and only gave battle at Kings Creek, the siege is not usually considered a battle. ​

Grant was usually not a man to conspire, but he was so annoyed by Rosecrans’ behavior that he consulted with Lyon to see if it was possible to send Rosecrans elsewhere. Lyon, of course, sided with Grant, but he had no power to simply remove Rosecrans from command. An attempt to send him to East Tennessee was apparently blocked by Halleck, though the General in-chief would later disclaim any responsibility and say that events in East Tennessee were the main reasons the transfer was not possible. For better or worse, Rosecrans was to remain in the Army of the Tennessee. Johnston was more successful when it came to getting rid of his troublesome officers, as Price was exiled to the trans-Mississippi after Breckenridge found out about the Second Battle of Corinth. Van Dorn was similarly disgraced, one Southern politician saying of him that “He is regarded as the source of all our woes . . . The atmosphere is dense with horrid narratives of his negligence, whoring, and drunkenness.” The battle thus confirmed Johnston as the supreme Confederate commander in the West.

After Second Corinth, Grant started his first campaign against Vicksburg, marching down the Mississippi Railroad Central to Grenada and then to Holly Springs, finally arriving at Oxford on December. At that point, news of Lee’s victory over the Army of the Susquehanna were reaching the West, putting pressure on Grant’s Yankees and increasing the morale of Johnston’s rebels. After getting rid of Price and Van Dorn, Johnston had reorganized his army with the intend of keeping Vicksburg at all costs. John Pemberton, a Yankee who sided with the South after marrying a Georgia lady, would be placed in command at Vicksburg, while Johnston and the rest of the Army camped outside. The rebels were ready to resist Grant’s new advance, knowing that losing Vicksburg would be a defeat from which the Confederacy may not recover.

However, if Grant already faced difficulties at Memphis and Corinth, he was now deep in the heart of the Confederacy in “an island surrounded by a sea of fire, the enemy in front and rear, opposing progress,” as Rawlins described it. The Army of the Tennessee’s logistical situation worsened as they were forced to subsist on supplies brought by railroads continuously attacked by rebel partisans. Sherman would denounce railroads as “the weakest things in war”, for "a single man with a match can destroy and cut off communications." The Ohioan predicted that any "railroad running through a country where every house is a nest of secret, bitter enemies" would suffer "bridges and water-tanks burned, trains fired into, track torn up". That’s exactly what happened to the railroads on which the Federals depended, thanks to the talents of Forrest.

With only 2,000 cavalrymen, Forrest “outfought, outmaneuvered, or outbluffed several Union garrisons and cavalry detachments while tearing up fifty miles of railroad and telegraph line, capturing or destroying great quantities of equipment, and inflicting 2,000 Union casualties.” For good measure, he engaged in much the same kind of depravity as other Confederates, murdering Blacks, Union troops and officers, and Unionists. These events put in peril Grant’s plans for an attack on Vicksburg, which entailed Sherman assaulting the citadel from Chickasaw Bayou to the north while Grant marched to Jackson and Potter bombarded the city from the river. Sherman was so confident that he even boasted that he would be at Vicksburg before Christmas. But Grant’s advance was delayed by Forrest’s campaign, and also by reports that Van Dorn was about to attack their supply base at Holly Springs. These reports were false, for Van Dorn had been shot death by a jealous husband, but they still made Grant pause. When Forrest seized this chance and cut the telegraph wires that had allowed Grant and Sherman to communicate, both commanders ended up isolated from each other, neither knowing the result of their respective engagements.

Sherman paid dearly for this. When he reached Chickasaw Bayou, he confronted the enemy as ordered, but without reinforcements or adequate supply his frontal assault failed quite easily as the rebels simply shot down from the high bluffs of Vicksburg. The Yankee soldiers, tired after wandering through a pestilential swamp to reach the Bayou, were unable to put up much of a resistance. The Union Army, “mowed down by a storm of shells, grape and canister, and minié-balls which swept our front like a hurricane of fire”, finally retreating after receiving 2,500 casualties to the Confederates’ 300. “Our lost has been heavy, and we accomplished nothing”, admitted a sullen Sherman, at the same time that Grant was wiring Philadelphia “that news from the South that Vicksburg has fallen is correct.” Thanks to Forrest, he had no way of communicating with Sherman and learning of this reverse, so he continued his march to Jackson.

John Pemberton​

This was exactly the opportunity Johnston had been waiting for. Patrick Cleburne, one of the finest Confederate officers on the West, would spearhead the attack with his division. On January 2nd, two days after Sherman had failed at Chickasaw Bayou, Grant was attacked at Canton. A marshy area of forests with small lagoons, Canton served as an important supply depot. By that time, Grant’s perilous supply lines had been cut and he was running low on food and water. The attack at Canton could not come at a worst time. Grant was not surprised by the attack, though he did wonder how Johnston had been able to concentrate such a large force when Sherman was supposedly about to take Vicksburg. In any case, Grant, true to form, decided to give battle, though his tired troops could not equal the elan of Cleburne’s screaming rebels.

By that point both Grant and Johnston had developed enormous respect for each other. Having battled constantly since Dover, Grant recognized Johnston as a fine soldier, while Johnston saw Grant as a commander of great capacity. Neither was intimidated by the other, but a sense of mutual respect between rivals of equal standing had been forged. The Battle of Canton showed this, as both commanders personally went to the front to rally their troops and direct counterattacks. By the end of the day, “only a direct act of Providence could explain the survival of the General”, commented one Confederate who observed how “a hellish whirlwind of bullets” grazed Johnston without him paying any attention. Grant was similarly brave, but unlike Johnston he paid the price as he had a horse shot down from under him and fell, injuring his leg. Paying no mind to this injury, Grant continued to direct his men for one day more, despite the numerical superiority of the rebels (Pemberton commanded just a skeleton force at Vicksburg) and his supply problems.

The troops that showed their greatest bravery at Canton were Grant’s new Black recruits. Though at first Grant judged that were unprepared to actually face the rebels on the field of battle, instead simply wanting to use them to protect his rear and build fortifications. But the furious rebel assault forced Grant to put all men, including his Black men, into battle. Inadequately trained and equipped, the men nonetheless fought desperately. The First Kansas Infantry, the only unit with actual combat experience, even managed to beat back a Confederate attack, allowing their White comrades to escape. This even though they well knew that the Southerners “were perfectly exasperated at the idea of negroes opposed to them & rushed at them like so many devils”, like a North Carolinian described. Indeed, the U.S. Colored Infantry would have many of its men butchered by Confederates who thought "that slaves have no right to surrender". The intervention of the Black troops at Canton helped to prevent a complete defeat, and in the aftermath Grant and his White troops avowed admiration at their manly sacrifice. Unfortunately, it was not enough to turn the tide of battle, and Grant had to retreat on the second day.

More timid Southerners may have been willing to let their enemies escape, but Johnston was anything but timid. He immediately rallied his men to pursue Grant, who “despite my lame status”, still had fight in him. Johnston caught up with Grant at Vaughan Creek, and started a series of fiery assaults. Aside from many soldiers on both sides, these assaults also resulted in the lost of General William J. Hardee, a casualty that allowed “the gallant Cleburne” to be promoted to Lieutenant General following the battle. Grant’s bluecoats did their best to throw back this attack, but they were tired and thirsty, and, moreover, their aggressive commander felt out of place in the defense. Grant still performed admirably, and at the end both Canton and Vaughan Creek are considered tactical draws. But they certainly were strategic losses, and Grant and his army would have to flee back to Oxford, where he and Sherman finally reunited after a couple of weeks without any communications at all.

Grant would forever regret his First Vicksburg Campaign, terming it “the most disgraceful affair” in his department, and saying that among all his military campaigns, that was the only one he saw as an embarrassment. This failure was not without its lessons, as Grant’s hungry Federals learned, like Napoleon’s soldiers had decades ago, to live off the land. Grant was "amazed at the quantity of supplies the country afforded. It showed that we could have subsisted off the country for two months.” This was no exaggeration, for the Union soldiers returned from their forays with entire wagons “loaded with ham, corn, peas, beans, potatoes, and poultry.” This valuable lesson would be important for future military movements, but it did little to soothe the humiliation the Army of the Tennessee felt. He also made good of his threats, and in his way back many Confederate sympathizers would be arrested, including many wives, and caught partisans were hanged immediately. Secesh farms from which these partisans derived their livehood would be sacked for food, and then torched. For their part, Johnston and his soldiers celebrated jubilantly, having lost only 9,500 men to Grant’s 13,000 in the entire campaign. One Southern journalist described the scene in Grant’s captured campgrounds at Canton: “tents burning, torches flaming, Confederates shouting, guns popping, sabres clanking, abolitionists and niggers begging for mercy.”

The Battle of Chickasaw Bayou​

Grant was not the only Western Union commander to meet with bitter failure in those tragic months that one Northern justly pronounced “the Valley Forge of the present war.” General Buell, tasked with liberating East Tennessee, advanced at a “glacial pace” that did much to strain Lincoln’s nerves and patience. Despite Halleck’s continuous demands to make haste and take Chattanooga, Buell took no action. Just like how Grant’s campaign was stopped by Forrest, Buell had to deal with his own rebel raider, the Kentucky John Hunt Morgan. However, Buell is also to blame for his "apparent want of energy and activity”, for the General was not conciliated to a war for Emancipation that sought to destroy the enemy’s resources and will. Widely denounced as a “McClellanite”, Buell did not have the standing or the influence to protect himself from the administration’s ire.

By October, 1862, Lincoln’s patience had finally run out. Newspapers kept criticizing him for his “weakness, irresolution, and want of moral courage,” that made him retain “traitors such as Buell” in position of command. By that point Lincoln’s political position seemed assured, as McClellan seemed about to take Richmond and Republicans were scoring overwhelming victories in state elections. Halleck did attempt to convince Lincoln to give Buell another chance, but Lincoln paid no heed to his advice. “The Government seems determined to apply the guillotine to all unsuccessful generals”, observed Halleck of the event. “Perhaps with us now, as in the French Revolution, some harsh measures are required.” In October 15th, 1862, the President made Buell the first casualty of this military guillotine, appointing George H. Thomas as the new commander of this Army of the Ohio. McClellan and Halleck himself would also fall prey to the guillotine, but that laid in the future.

Though the fact that Thomas was more capable of Buell cannot be denied, he was not the adequate choice if Lincoln wanted a general that would readily jump into action. His nickname of “Old Slow-Trot”, gained because of a “spinal injury that forced him to gallop slowly”, described his generalship as well. Ron Chernow says that “thorough in preparation for battle, dogged on defense, Thomas swung into action reluctantly.” In later years, Grant succinctly described him as “too slow to move, and too brave to run away.” In the two months after he took command of the Army of the Ohio, Thomas spent most of his time preparing meticulously for an all-out assault in Chattanooga. Fortunately for the loyal Virginian, the rebels took action that shed light on Thomas’ virtues. This unintentional help came from Braxton Bragg.

Bragg had been one of Johnston’s aggressive commanders, and he had insisted on going on the offensive in Kentucky. He believed that “Kentuckians were ready to throw out the iron boot of the Lincolnite minions”, especially now that the “abolitionist proclamation” had made the objective of the war clear. Secretary of War Davis supported the movement, but Breckenridge was cautious. He knew the temperament of the people of his state, and a hasty invasion had already caused much damage. Military men and politicians knew how touchy the subject was to the President – he had almost exiled Leonidas Polk to the trans-Mississippi for his mistake of invading Kentucky, thus, in Breckenridge’s mind, ceding his home state to the Union. Polk had narrowly avoided this fate, but the fact remained that the President did not like him and was unlikely to aid generals with similar foolhardly ideas. The farthest Breckenridge was willing to go was allowing Bragg to take some reinforcements to Tennessee, where he also took command of the troops under General Kirby Smith.

Breckenridge changed his opinion after Lee’s victory over McClellan at the Nine Days. Now euphoric and desirous of more victories, he allowed Bragg to go forward with his plan of invading Kentucky. Davis was charged with putting this into execution, and he faithfully obliged by instructing Bragg to cooperate with Kirby Smith and “march rapidly on Nashville”, so that “Grant will be compelled to retire to the [Mississippi] river, abandoning Middle and [West] Tennessee. . . . You may have a complete conquest over the enemy, involving the liberation of Tennessee and Kentucky.” Confederate prospects seemed especially high after Johnston had achieved victories over Grant at Canton and Vaugh’s Creek. Bragg was so optimist that he went into Kentucky with 15,000 additional rifles, to equip the Kentuckians who would supposedly flock to his banners.

Edmund Kirby Smith​

Bragg was probably not the most inspired choice for this winter campaign. A “short-tempered and quarrelsome” man who suffered from migraines and ulcers that did nothing to help his temper, Bragg was heartily disliked by his own troops and officers. His ruthless enforcement of discipline did much to whip his soldiers up to combat readiness, and although it was enough to earn their obedience, "not a single soldier in the whole army ever loved or respected him” according to one of his men. His relationship with his own government was also a problem. “I would make any sacrifice to support you and your gallant command”, Breckenridge assured Bragg at first, but as the war developed and Bragg’s bad attributes came to the forefront, their relationship soured. Bragg, whose “psychological instability made him mortally afraid of error, and of blame for error”, would too readily criticize Breckenridge for all that went wrong, saying that Breckenridge’s failure “to carry out his part of my program has seriously embarrassed me, and moreover the whole campaign."

Despite these problems, Bragg’s campaign got off to an auspicious start. In December 15th, Kirby Smith captured Richmond, Kentucky, just 75 miles South of Cincinnati “whose residents were startled into near panic by the approach of the rebels”, brushing aside a small Union force. Lexington was next, and the Confederates were prepared to inaugurate a Confederate governor. Both Bragg and Breckenridge issued their own declarations, Bragg telling the Kentuckians that he came “to restore to you the liberties of which you have been deprived by a cruel and relentless foe” and inviting them to “cheer us with the smiles of your women and lend your willing hands to secure you in your heritage of liberty”. Breckenridge was more sober, simply declaring that the Confederacy “has no design of conquest or any other purpose than to secure peace and the abandonment by the United States of its pretensions to govern [our] people” and inviting Kentucky to “secure immunity from the desolating effects of warfare on the soil of the State by a separate treaty of peace.”

Some 7,000 Kentuckians answered to the Southern call. Apparently, this was a direct reaction to the late Confederate successes and the Emancipation Proclamation, for Kentucky, although excepted, were now terrified by the prospect of slave emancipation and Negro equality. The number was somewhat disappointing, for Bragg had expected double the men, but it was still a welcome addition to his 30,000 rebels, bringing Bragg’s total strength to 37,000, Thomas had some 50,000 with him, his request for reinforcements from Grant unfulfilled thanks to the failure of the first Vicksburg campaign. Moreover, almost a third of his numbers were raw recruits. Though Bragg elatedly boasted to his wife that "We have made the most extraordinary campaign in military history”, he had not defeated Thomas’ bluecoats yet.

The stoic Federal was not going down easily, though there was a lot of criticism coming from Philadelphia. Secretary of War Stanton complained that “Thomas seems unwilling to attack because it is ‘hazardous,’ as if all war was anything but hazardous. If he cedes the initiative to Bragg, Gabriel will be blowing his last horn.” But if Thomas’ preparations took long, the results were worth it, and in January 23rd, Thomas hit Bragg and Kirby Smith at Lexington with the force of a sledgehammer. A titanic struggle resulted, as the cool Thomas attacked relentlessly while Bragg and his men floundered under disagreements. On the Confederate side, the insubordinate and egocentric Felix Zollicoffer was particularly conspicuous, and the rebels also suffered by the animosity between Kirby Smith and Bragg. On the Union side, Philipp Sheridan, a man who had quickly raised through the ranks thanks to his innate talent, achieved distinction in the battle. Before long, Bragg was forced to retreat, having suffered some 5,000 casualties to Thomas’ 3,000.

George "Sledgehammer" Thomas leading his troops​

As he retreated, the Kentuckians Bragg had recruited simply melted away, unwilling to fight for a loser and even more unwilling to leave the Bluegrass state. Bragg almost immediately gave in to extreme bitterness towards the Kentuckians, whom he characterized as ungrateful men who “have too many fat cattle and are too well off to fight”, and saying that the lack of support forced him to “abandon the garden spot of Kentucky to its own cupidity.” Unfortunately for Bragg, Thomas was not one to rest on his laurels and he followed his victory at Lexington with another devastating attack at White Lily near the Laurel River. Bragg this time put up more stout resistance, and the winter weather that had forced Thomas to abandon his East Tennessee campaign in 1861 once again delayed him. A desperate two-day battle left both armies thirsty and exhausted, the Confederates having lost an additional 5,000 while the Yankees suffered just 4,000 men.

Finally, on February 17th, Bragg returned to Tennessee, all his officers bickering and throwing the blame for the failure around. Unfortunately for them, this took them into the very heart of Unionism in the state, to the midst of a population that resented the Confederacy and cheered the recent Federal triumph. The oppression of the pro-Union population by the Confederate authorities had been swift and ruthless, the Breckinridge regime, either by action or inaction, allowing soldiers and guerrillas to freely terrorize those who resisted the government. But harsh methods were rather unsuccessful, and incidents of bridge burning, sabotage and even murder continued. "The whole country is now in a state of rebellion", a Confederate colonel reported, while a member of Bragg's staff said in despair that East Tennessee was "more difficult to operate in than the country of an acknowledged enemy." Historian Bruce Levine estimates that the East Tennessee dissidents forced Richmond to keep four to five thousand men in the area just to prevent open insurrection.

These were the temperament and loyalty of the people of East Tennessee when Bragg's battered army arrived following its shellacking at Lexington and White Lilly around March. The Unionist population of Knoxville received the weary Confederates with hisses and glares, and when Bragg called on them to give his men food and rest no one came forward. Worse than mere rudeness, there were reports that several Unionists planned an insurrection to deliver the city to Thomas' pursuing bluejackets. An irate Bragg, true to character, reacted by requisitioning goods from the struggling civilians and cracking down on all suspected Unionism, actions that could hardly have won the hearts and minds of the city's population. When in just a few days news came of Thomas' imminent arrival, Bragg ordered everything of military value torched and fled to Chattanooga.

On April, Union forces entered the city, the dashing bluejackets putting down the fires and offering food and blankets, and, more importantly, deliverance from rebel rule. Colonel Foster reported from Knoxville that “Men, women, and children rushed to the streets". The women “shouting, ‘Glory! Glory!’ ‘The Lord be praised!’ ‘Our Savior’s come!’", the men "huzzahed and yelled like madmen, and in their profusion of greetings I was almost pulled from my horse", and throughout the city "the streets resounded with yells, and cheers for the ‘Union’ and ‘Lincoln.’" General Joseph J. Reynolds was amazed when a group of Unionists, hidden in the mountains from the rebel authorities, saw his forces and “joined our column, expressing the greatest delight at our coming, and at beholding again what they emphatically called ‘our flag.’"

The Union Army liberating Knoxville​

By the end of the month, Chattanooga was also in peril of falling into Yankee hands. Union cavalry units had raided behind Bragg's position, threatening to cut him off from his lifeline to Atlanta, and the in-fighting had gotten even worse. Confessing the campaign "a great disaster", Bragg nonetheless focused more on his struggle against his commanders. Rumors of his imminent removal circulated freely, and in Richmond only the influence of Secretary of War Davis managed to convince Breckinridge to keep Bragg for the moment, if only just until a suitable replacement had been found. The President hoped that Bragg could hold onto Chattanooga until the new commander arrived, but a panicky Bragg decided to evacuate the city. "What does he fight battles for?", questioned a furious Forrest, while a Confederate official asked in despair "When will the calamities end!"

Shortly after the hasty and chaotic evacuation, Thomas moved into Chattanooga, thus liberating East Tennessee. But this city had also been devastated by the Southerners themselves . Afraid of suffering vengeance at the hands of the Union, the residents of these two cities fled through the snow, resulting in the lamentable "Winter Exile" that saw many perish to the elements, Bragg and his troops unable to provide any shelter or food, because they themselves were hungry and cold. There are also tales of slaveholders who preferred to murder their slaves rather than allow the Union army to liberate them. Thomas' victories had taken place between the failure at Vicksburg and the disastrous defeat at Manassas, and since the Virginian had achieved one of Lincoln's most important goals, he was showered with praise by the Northern press and government. Bragg, on the other hand, received no mercy. Summoned to Richmond to explain his failure, Bragg was dismissed by an irate Breckenridge, who lamented Bragg's invasion of his own home state and how he had lost almost all of Tennessee.

Secretary of War Davis tried to defend Bragg, who had been a personal friend since their days as comrades in the Mexican War. “You have the misfortune of being regarded as my personal friend,” Davis wrote to Bragg, “and are pursued therefore with malignant censure, by men incapable of conceiving that you are trusted because of your known fitness for command.” But Breckenridge did not buy these arguments. Furthermore, the President was lobbied by Kentuckians at Richmond and Bragg’s own commanders, all of whom placed the blame squarely on him. In any case, Breckenridge had decided to reorganize the army departments in order to better resist the Yankee advance.

Virginia would obviously go to Lee, while A. S. Johnston’s Department of the Mississippi was fused with the Trans-Mississippi, so that Vicksburg could be defended more easily. In the middle, a new Department of the Midwest was created to resist Union incursions into Tennessee. But who was to command this department? Breckenridge was not impressed by Kirby Smith either, and he faced a political risk in the form of Joe Johnston, who was growing increasingly bitter after being removed from command. Beauregard had already formed a powerful anti-administration faction around himself, and it would not do to antagonize Johnston needlessly. Even if “Uncle Joe” did not really want this command, at least it would get him far from Richmond.

The Battle of White Lily​

Despite the Kentucky fiasco, the winter of 1862-1863 was definitely the high-water mark of the Confederacy, with one arguable draw, one clear-cut victory, and one enormous triumph over the Union forces. Breckenridge in Richmond was said to be rejuvenated, and the Confederate cause as a whole was strengthened tenfold, as jubilant rebels saw their prospects raise. Foreign recognition, outright military victory, and other possibilities now seemed open. February gave way to March and Lee set forth in a daring invasion of the North, the Confederates expecting it to be the final and most decisive strike for their independence.

 

[Red_Galiray]

President Abe Czar Alexander loved
"Mankind's delight", nor were his hopes reproved
Both sovereign potentes, both despots too
Each with a great rebellion to subdue
Alike prepared to sing and to reply
The precious pair thus bragged alternately

Abe: Imperial son of Nicholas the Great
We air in the same fix I calculate
You with your Poles, with Southern rebels I,
Who spurn my rule and my revenge defy

Alex: Vengeance is mine, old man; see where it falls,
Behold yon hearths laid waste, and ruined walls,
Yon gibbets, where the struggling patriot hangs,
Whilst my brave myrmidons enjoy his pangs

Abe: I'll show you a considerable some
Of devastated hearth and ravaged home;
Nor less about the gallows could I say,
Were hanging not a game both sides would play

- The President and the Czar by Punch Magazine​

A tall, handsome man in the impeccable uniform of a Union general approached Lincoln’s office in Philadelphia, in February, 1863. The people of the temporary capital paid him no mind. It was not unusual to see Union army commanders, and most people were waiting with bated, anxious breath for news of Hooker’s campaign against Lee. Just a couple of weeks later, news of the Manassas disaster would arrive and cause a moral crisis. This was, of course, distressing news to President Lincoln, but he had always held his reservations about Hooker. This is why he had summoned John Fulton Reynolds, recently exchanged, to enquire whether the Pennsylvanian was willing to take the reins of the Army of the Susquehanna.

The need was pressing. Hooker had proven unequal to the great trust the Republic placed on his shoulders, and now it was clear to everyone that the aggressive Lee was preparing to invade the North. The Union cause seemed to be almost finished, all that was needed was another rebel victory. Whether the Confederacy and slavery or Union and liberty was to triumph was to be decided in this campaign. Lincoln decided that Reynolds was the man for the job. Tall and elegant, with dark eyes and a trimmed beard, the West Pointer veteran who had been with the Army since the Mexican War was regarded as a charismatic, brave and capable officer. Loved by both troops who cheered him openly and comrades who described him as the “noblest . . . bravest gentleman in the army”, Reynolds seemed the very picture of martial excellence and republican nobility.

Naturally, this picture of a perfect man is not completely true. Reynolds had neither political connections nor friends in the press. He was an apolitical man who regarded politics as distraction from more important business. He regarded his objectives as merely the preservation of the Union and the defeat of the Confederacy, instead of the revolution the Republicans were starting to envision. Reynolds’ background as a conservative Democrat whose entry into West Point was sponsored by none other than James Buchanan informed these views. He had grown somewhat disillusioned with both political parties, and never quite became a Chesnut, instead doubling down on his belief that the military should be an apolitical institution. He never expressed McClellan’s insubordination or Sherman’s exaggerated contempt for politicians, but neither did he grasp, like Grant did, that at that level military affairs were inherently political. The Union Army was as much an extension of the Lincoln administration’s ideology and policies as the Confederate Army that of Breckinridge’s.

Furthermore, Reynolds had never held an independent command, and though he fought gallantly in Anacostia and the Peninsula, he had a worrying tendency towards micromanagement. Certainly, it was not adequate for an officer of his rank to go and personally direct the artillery. After the defeat at Mechanicsville, Reynolds was ascended to commander of the 1st Corps, or what remained of them anyway, and once again he showed extreme bravery that was not enough to turn the tide. No matter, it’s doubtful that anyone could have created a victory from such a desperate situation, but Reynolds would be captured and spend some months in a Richmond prison before being exchanged. Legend has it that he was captured while riding along the line cheering his troops valiantly, the Union flag wrapped around his shoulders. He was exchanged too late to take part in the Battle of Bull Run, and he endeavored to raise new volunteer regiments when he was called to Philadelphia.

John Fulton Reynolds​

The General was not squeamish about the hardships of war. During the Peninsula, he had expulsed men based only on suspicions that they were secesh. But for Reynolds all these decisions had to respond to military need, and ideology, politics, and the squabbling of Philadelphia bureaucrats had to be left aside. Lincoln, naturally, had to take into account Reynolds’ political leanings. But his main concern was just winning the war. The question of Reconstruction could be decided later; the important duty was to whip the rebels. That’s why he decided to take a chance on Reynolds. No general, the President realized, matched his bravery and aggressiveness, and in the aftermath of two terrible defeats someone who was loved by the troops and respected and trusted by the officers would be needed. Thus, Reynolds, the “soldier general of the Army”, was offered command of the principal Union Army in the East.

Despite having his own ambitions and being honored by the confidence Lincoln expressed, Reynolds hesitated. He asked whether he would have “absolute control” of his movements, and reportedly said that if he could not, then he would refuse command and it would be better to entrust it to George Gordon Meade, a personal friend. Lincoln answered that in matters of general strategy, he was to be subordinate to his superiors, but that the only tactical instruction he was receive is to follow Lee’s army and defeat it. Reynolds still hesitated, possibly afraid of getting involved in political matters. Then Lincoln, with his sorrowful eyes and deep lines that betrayed the toll of that cruel war, leaned forward. “I have always wanted a General that would not intervene with the business of government, but that would lead the army gallantly and justly,” the President said, “a General that will only do his duty as a soldier.” Reynolds nodded, and answered with equal seriousness: “I shall do my duty, sir.”

The accuracy of these reports has been challenged. They come from Reynolds’ brief letters, and comments made after the fact by his peers. Lincoln did not make any comment about that fateful reunion, except to praise Reynolds. If a deal between the two men was truly struck, it apparently was not fulfilled, because there are signs that point to further meddling by Lincoln. The reasons why Reynolds decided to accept the command are somewhat murky. There’s the fact that General Meade had been injured in the Battle of Bull Run, being thrown off from his horse and receiving a serious concussion. Meade was still fit to command, but he insisted nonetheless that if Reynolds was offered command, he should take it. “No man is more respected than you, and it would be our greatest pleasure to follow you gallantly in defense of our Union”, Meade wrote. Finally, it’s been suggested that Reynolds felt shame for not taking part in the Battle of Bull Run, and felt that his native Pennsylvania was to become a battlefield thanks to his own shortcomings. To right these errors, he decided to accept Lincoln’s offer. Whatever the exact motivations, John F. Reynolds took command of the Army of the Susquehanna in March, 1863.

There was reason to be afraid of rebel invasion. The Confederates, enjoying their high tide, had growth bolder in their attacks and demands. In turn, the war stopped being a conflict between gentlemen, and outbursts of violence and guerrilla warfare resulted in a bloody tic-for-tac of attacks and reprisals that covered the United States with blood. Atrocities started to take place with alarming regularity, as Northerners and Southerners both grew dogmatic in their demands for unconditional loyalty. Everybody that opposed the war was denounced as a traitor or a Tory, depending on the section. Instead of being merely shunned or arrested, they would be dealt with as an enemy, a hostile group to be chased and exterminated. And so it was that after 1863 Union commanders started a scorched-earth campaign that devasted large sections of the South, hanging partisans without trial and exiling Confederate sympathizers; while Confederate guerrillas murdered Unionists and African Americans, and started a series of raids into Union territory with deadly consequences. After 1863, there was no going back, no possibility of peace, until one side or the other was completely defeated.

The first signs of this ruthless kind of warfare had been already observed in Missouri and Kansas. Affected by the bitter legacy of Bleeding Kansas and the Lecompton debacle, Kansans and Missourians hated each other with “more vehemence and abhorrence than even the Greek and the Turk”. Forced to live under a government they regarded as inherently illegitimate, Kansas Free-Soilers had been pursued by both legal and extralegal means for many years. Lecompton law had allowed for the trial and execution of anyone who criticized slavery or helped slaves escape. In many occasions, men were pursued by Border Ruffians deputized by corrupt authorities, receiving corporal punishment, having their lands confiscated and being outright murdered. In turn, these Jayhawkers, unable to appeal to either the law or a Federal government led by the doughface Buchanan, resorted to violence.

Mass executions of rebel sympathizers in Union territory and Unionists in Confederate territory were starting to happen​

Bleeding Kansas thus continued beyond the Lecompton vote, but it was somewhat quieted down by the presence of Federal troops. But the war meant that vengeful Jayhawkers were not simple terrorists but soldiers of the Republic, and Border Ruffians were not petty tyrants but the gallant resistance against Lincolnite oppression. Thus, both groups were legitimized as parts of their countries’ war effort, but neither Lincoln in Philadelphia nor Breckinridge in Richmond had much control over their actions or their methods. This explains the unusual level of violence, fed not so much by patriotic allegiance or the ideological objectives of each combatant, but as a way to settle old scores and vent violent urges. Missouri and Kansas thus became bloody battlegrounds from the start of the war, embroiled in a cycle of slaughter that would eclipse even the worst acts of Bleeding Kansas.

At first, the struggle continued under the guise of Victorian “civilized warfare”. General Hunter, for sure, took radical measures in using emancipated slaves to fight the rebels and the new Kansas government also passed laws for confiscation and punishment. But under this guise of moderation, alarmed Northerners already saw that the Kansans endeavored to not just hurl the traitor crew from their government, but enact bloody vengeance upon them. Murderers and loiters who had gone unpunished during the Lecompton period were hanged, and the Kansas forces were the first to deal with partisans through the measures of hard war, that is, scaffolds and exiles. But by and large, the Confederate and Union armies still observed the rules of war and neither pushed the war to its natural but terrible consequences. That changed after the Emancipation Proclamation, when rebels, now convinced that Union victory would mean their destruction, struck with more brutality, resulting in equally abominable reprisals.

The cycle of violence was started when a man named Andrew Allsman, a Free-Soil veteran of Bleeding Kansas, was taken prisoner and executed by rebel partisans who resented how Allsman led Union troops through Missouri terrain. The Emancipation Proclamation had already been issued, and thus some of the troops led by Allsman were Black recruits, who took part in a raid where lack of discipline resulted in wanton looting. Border Ruffians, completely terrified of the idea of Black Union soldiers sacking and burning houses, decided to make an example of Allsman, to show that “all white men have to side with their own race against Lincoln’s negro murderers.” Allsman was kidnapped by a guerrilla band, his head was cut off and then placed in a pike in the middle of the town of Palmyra, a message written down: “Warning! All abolitionists who seek to start a domestic rebellion or attack the people of Missouri shall receive the same fate.”

Allsman’s execution shocked the nation. Southern Patriots had routinely inflicted such cruelty in escaped slaves during the Revolution, but Allsman was a white man engaged in “civilized warfare”. Even many Southerners were appalled by the events, but they accepted it after wildly exaggerated rumors of Black troops burning houses and raping women started appearing in the news. The Federal commander in the area, one John McNeil, decided to strike back with ruthless fury. A few weeks after Allsman’s head appeared in Palmyra, he captured 10 Confederate partisans. He executed them immediately and then announced that for every Unionist murdered by partisans from then on, he would execute one prisoner. For good measure, he declared that the murder of Black Unionists would also result in an execution. In Philadelphia, though Lincoln paled at the prospect of such bloody vengeance, he somberly approved the measure, saying that they could not allow those marauders to believe that they could execute Union men with impunity.

McNeill’s actions caused revulsion among some Northern and European newspapers at first. The British magazine Punch even compared Lincoln with Tsar Alexander of Russia, then engaged in a campaign to subjugate Polish rebels. But the squeamish Northerners were soon filled with a spirit of terrible vengeance when news of more rebel atrocities arrived. Breckinridge immediately demanded that McNeill should be tried by the Federals, and if they declined to do so, then he should be surrendered to Confederate authorities. The Union, naturally, refused. Breckinridge was going to left the matter at that, but local authorities took a version of justice on their own hands and executed 10 Unionists. Horrified Londoners quickly denounced these acts, saying that “If a National General in Missouri shoots ten prisoners for one man killed, why should not a Confederate General shoot a hundred prisoners . . . for these were known to be killed; and so on until all prisoners on both sides are butchered in cold blood as soon as taken!”

Extremes Meet, or The President and the Czar by Punch Magazine​

Mark E. Neely says that “Enthusiasm for retaliation among high-ranking military and political leaders almost always ebbed with the passage of time”, but in the case of the bush war in Missouri and Kansas, atrocities followed each other with such dizzying speed that the thirst for revenge was never truly quenched. McNeill himself said that he would “refer to God for the Justice of the act”, and confessed to further war crimes: “The morning after the battle of Kirkmill, I shot fifteen violators of parole—the next day an officer was tried & shot for being a spy & a Garilla subsequently at Macon City Genl Merrill shot ten men for the same cause.” But McNeill was never tried, and he was even promoted after a campaign by hundreds of Missouri Unionists who saw him as their protector. Missouri troops, after the lamentable events of Palmyra, went forward into battle shouting “Hurrah! Now for McNeill!” The gory precedent of executions as retaliation for crimes continued, and soon enough “northeastern Missouri was left barren of life, all men either in swamps or under the sod, both armies fighting under black flag.”

It’s possible that the situation would ultimately return to normal had it not been for the activities of guerrillas. Neither McNeill nor the Confederate commanders ever executed as many men as they could, but guerrillas had no such qualms. Hungry for weapons and food, Confederate guerrillas “scouted” the countryside, stealing everything they could and abusing Unionist civilians, even to the point of reenacting Allsman’s murder. Reports of many cities in Missouri and Kansas were head in pikes with warnings to abolitionists appeared. Moreover, the marauders took special pleasure in ambushing and murdering Black Union troops and contrabands of war, “leaving the corpses so disfigured that it’s impossible to even determine the sex of the victim.” Yankee commanders retaliated by taking civilians prisoner in Federal camps and putting Confederate prisoners to hard work, so that rebel attacks would result in casualties among their own. But this was not enough, and soon enough Union partisans started to copy the methods of their rivals.

The most famous partisan was Bloody Bill Anderson, a man who had split off from another raider, William Quantrill. Leading a band of “pathological killers like their leader”, Bloody Bill and his men sowed terror and devastation through Kansas and Missouri, murdering and even scalping Unionists and unarmed Northern soldiers. In Centralia, in late 1862, Anderson destroyed a train, murdered unarmed Union soldiers in furlough, and then “Chased out of town by three companies of militia, the guerrillas picked up 175 allies from other bands, turned on their pursuers, and slaughtered 124 of the 147 men, including the wounded, whom they shot in the head.” William Quantrill, not to be outdone by his pupil, committed an even greater atrocity in Lawrence, the old center of Kansas Free-Soilism. Ordered to “Kill every male and burn every house”, Quantrill’s raiders massacred “182 men and boys and burned 185 buildings in Lawrence.”

The Union response, by both the Army and partisans, was swift and ruthless. David Hunter, John McNeill and Thomas Ewing started a manhunt that saw hundreds of partisans captured and immediately shot or hung. More than 10,000 Missourians were banished from the border areas, “leaving these counties a wasteland for years”. Guerrilla bands such as the 7th Kansas Cavalry, also known as Jennison’s Jayhawkers, “plundered and killed their way across western Missouri”, resolved to “exterminate rebellion and slaveholders in the most literal manner possible.” This particular guerrilla group included none other than John Brown Jr., and it’s said to have gone into battle singing “We’ll hang each damn reb from a sour apple tree!” “Jayhawking Kansans and bushwhacking Missourians took no prisoners, killed in cold blood, plundered and pillaged and burned (but almost never raped) without stint”, says James McPherson, and this last point has even been questioned by historians like Kim Murphy.

A Southern man described the scenes of massacre in the Missouri-Kansas border: “The disorder in this army was terrific . . . It would take a volume to describe the acts of outrage; neither station, age nor sex was any protection; Southern men and women were as little spared as Unionists; civilians of every allegiance were put to the knife or had their hearts pierced.” Both partisans and regulars kidnapped free Blacks and forced youths into service, which “gave to the army the appearance of a Calmuck [Mongol] horde.” Neely also says that “Scalps dangled from saddles and bridles. Confederate marauding was commonplace and plundering unstoppable”. The cooperation between Confederate regulars and partisans and the tacit acceptance of Richmond gave the appearance of such depravity being official rebel policy, which horrified the Yankees even more. Indeed, Sterling Price officially congratulated Anderson and Quantrill received a commission as a captain, which further outraged the North.

Bloody Bill Anderson​

This in turn augmented their resolve not to surrender. After all, Southern newspapers were saying that they would not accept peace unless “Maryland, Missouri, Kentucky, Kansas and other territories and provinces that by right belong to the Southern people . . . are surrendered at once to us.” Declarations by both Lee and Breckinridge of how they would go onto “liberate” those states raised concerns of the Union men there being subjected to the same kind of cruelty. “We should not, we must not, we cannot abandon our compatriots to that fate”, insisted Northern editorials, and war meetings said that the war could not stop “until every single Southern marauders is brought to justice . . . To dishonorably surrender now would be to condemn our own people to a barbarian treatment.” Indeed, “barbarian”, “mongol”, “Indian”, were adjectives frequently used to describe the Southern army and the atrocities they committed.

Reports by the Committee on the Conduct of War helped along to expose Southern “barbarism”. Unfortunately, an element of prejudice played a part, for one of the things that most horrified the Northerners was the use of Indian troops by the Confederates. In the Battle of Pea Ridge, Indian regiments allied with the Confederates scalped and murdered prisoners of an Iowa company. General Curtis reported that “many of the Federal dead . . . were tomahawked, scalped, and their bodies shamefully mangled.” The Confederate authorities there answered that if Lincoln had no problem with “negroes murdering their masters in their sleep” then Breckinridge should have no problem “using savage Indians to scalp abolitionists”. “The employment of Indians involves a probability of savage ferocity which is not to be regarded as the exception but the rule. Bloody conflicts seem to inspire their ancient barbarities, nor can we expect civilized warfare from savage foes”, Curtis, who started to use Indian troops too, insisted.

The terrible atrocities of the Kansas-Missouri area were at first dismissed as the natural result of employing Indians in a war between “civilized belligerents”. But Confederate atrocities in Mississippi and Tennessee certainly proved that the White man could be just as savage. The dreadful actions of Forrest and his partisans, who murdered Unionists and terrorized freedmen, have already been described. It was their bloody campaign that led Grant’s Vicksburg plans to failure. This campaign also featured the first large-scale appearance of a dreadful crime that would become horribly common: the wholesale massacre of Black troops. Albert Sydney Johnston did chastise his soldiers for engaging in their base instincts after the victory at Canton, which saw the surrendering First Kansas Infantry massacred almost to the last man. Johnston did nothing, while Breckinridge ordered an investigation – the orders were never carried out, a clerk informing his President that it would be extremely unpopular to prosecute White men for the murder of African Americans.

“To think that the Southern people, who we once regarded as our kind and civilized countrymen, could engage in such crimes”, wrote George Templeton Strong, “fills the soul with disgust and dread.” Massacres of such kind were reported almost weekly, and psychopathic Southerners were able to murder at their hearts’ content. "I assure you it was a great pleasure . . . to go over the field & see so many . . . of the African descent lying mangled & bleeding on the hills around our salt works”, wrote one to his mother after his regiment had massacred a surrendering Black regiment. "We surely slew negroes that day," said a Confederate soldier who was still a boy, having lied about his age. Contraband camps especially drew Southern ire, and thousands of Union troops had to be placed to protect them from raiders who frequently appeared to enslave freedmen, murdering those who refused to go.

Northerners also felt the effects of Southern depravity thanks to daring raids. Following Bragg’s failed Kentucky campaign, guerrillas as brutal as those of Missouri started to appear in the Bluegrass state too. Blaming their Unionist neighbors for Bragg’s failure, Confederate-aligned partisans started a campaign of terror that saw hundreds of Unionists, Black and White alike, murdered in cold blood. The events of Lexington, Knoxville and Chattanooga brought further tragedies – as Thomas’ army approached, panicked Confederates fled the city, including women and children who “would perish for want of food and warm in the blood-stained snow”. In truth, Thomas and his army offered both to Southern civilians, but partisans still blamed the Federals and decided to enact revenge. Several raids into Ohio and Indiana by Kentucky Confederates resulted in the death of many civilians and great destruction of property, and the complete destruction of all least three small towns in fires, after extracting a ransom. Many free Blacks, “estimated and well-loved members of their communities”, were kidnapped and taken South to be slaves.

Southern civilians expulsed by the Union Army​

Years ago, the Fugitive Slave Act had caused great furor in the North. It allowed Southern slavers to go into Northern communities. Armed resistance and heart-breaking images of men hauled back to bondage helped along to create an atmosphere of hate against slavery and the South. This was a hundred times worse, for it was free people that were captured. It was even said that children and women were captured and cruelly whipped. The explosive outrage that engulfed the North by these reports cannot be understated, for it imbued many Northern communities with a thirst for revenge. “If we surrender to Southern terror,” a speaker declared, “they will continue these kinds of outrages for the rest of history. They will continue their campaigns of rapine, of murder, of kidnapping, to show us that they are masters. Our only option is to defeat this rebellion once and for all.”

Thomas and Grant, with heavy hearts, approved hard war measures that were the only way of dealing with these partisans. Confederate sympathizers were expulsed or taken prisoner, including women and children who sheltered them. Whole areas were reduced to barren wasteland due to the exile of thousands of rebel sympathizers. Black regiments were organized and armed to protect their contraband camps from raiders, who would then be hanged without trial, for, as “insurgents with an appalling lack of respect for the rules of civilized warfare”, they did not deserve trials. Grant and Sherman, in special, would soon inaugurate a style of war that had as its objective the complete destruction of Southern resources and their will to fight, showed by the path of destruction that Grant carved in his retreat from Canton, his soldiers looting and destroying everything they could. This kind of warfare would have horrified both South and North in 1861; by 1863, both sides accepted it as the only way of drawing the war to a close.

Northern intransigence was augmented by news from the appalling treatment of White Unionists and prisoners of war in the South. White Unionists, accused of being traitors ironically enough by secessionists, suffered terribly under Confederate rule. The liberation of East Tennessee allowed for an outpouring of sorrowful stories of abuse. Unionists were imprisoned and had their poverty confiscated. If captured in acts of sabotage, they would be hanged or shot without remorse or mercy; after the Union started to take reprisals against Confederate partisans, the South also skipped trials. Unionists communities were devastated by Southern attacks, destruction and confiscation resulting in “the total impoverishment of the sufferers.” After the passing of conscription in the Confederacy, Unionists fled to swamps or woods, and were then pursued with bloodhounds. When captured, if they persisted in their Union sentiments, they would be massacred, as happened to 13 prisoners in North Carolina.

“They were driven from their homes . . . persecuted like wild beasts by the rebel authorities, and hunted down in the mountains; they were hanged on the gallows, shot down and robbed. . . . Perhaps no people on the face of the earth were ever more persecuted than were the loyal people of East Tennessee”, said one of the victims. “We could fill a book with facts of wrongs done to our people...” an Alabama Unionist declared too. “You have no idea of the strength of principle and devotion these people exhibited towards the national government.” Memories of persecution and attacks created bitter memories that would remain through Reconstruction and beyond. Some Unionists, in order to defend themselves, even allied with Black fugitives, possibly agreeing with Parson Brownlow’s declaration that he would arm “every wolf, panther, catamount, and bear in the mountains of America . . . every rattlesnake and crocodile . . . every devil in Hell, and turn them loose upon the Confederacy”. In this case, one Unionist declared vulgarly, “we prefer niggers to rebels.”

Some of the most appalling violence came from men like Colonel Vincent Witcher, nicknamed “Clawhammer”. Taking advantage of the lamentable way that wars tend to legitimize murder and violence, Witcher and his boys rode through Unionists areas of the South, terrorizing anybody that did not show 100% loyalty to the Confederacy. Using methods such as “Witcher’s Parole”, which consisted in tying a man’s neck to a branch, drawing it back, and then letting it go, which decapitated them by tearing their heads away. Witcher’s boys were so extreme that even fellow Confederates denounced them as “thieves and murderers.” But they were officially accepted as the 34th Virginia infantry. This did not stop their campaign of brutality, for they continued to butcher Unionists. At Powell Mountain, one man was so mutilated that he could only be recognized due to the special underwear his mother knitted for him. Tasting victory, Confederates endeavored to destroy all unloyalty to their new country, saying that “any abolitionist sentiment or remaining loyalty to the old Union must be exterminated”.

The guerrillas obeyed no orders from Richmond or Philadelphia, waging their own bloody campaigns without oversight and giving no quarter​

This naturally had the opposite effect, as men who wanted to remain neutral were pushed to one side or the other, and in quite a few cases, they chose the Union. “Dem yankees hav never attacked me or my family”, an Appalachian man wrote, “but the men of Richmond have taken my cotton and my son.” “Marauding bands of deserters plundered the farms and workshops of Confederate sympathizers,” says Eric Foner, “driving off livestock and destroying crops . . . and engaging in reprisals against the Confederate authorities.” Indeed, Unionists and their secret organizations engaged in murder whenever they could, forcing Richmond to send armies to upcountry areas. In places where Confederate authority was already weak at the start of the war, it disappeared completely from 1863 on. Not even the arrival of Union troops was enough to stop the violence – one soldier in East Tennessee reports finding a pregnant woman murdered, a message just below: “Thou shalt not give birth to traitors.”

The war was most painful in Border Areas and Unionist strongholds where divided loyalties made it truly a "brothers war". General Thomas was disowned by his Virginia family, who accused him of murderous treachery and would never speak to him again, even burning his portrait and refusing his money when they fell in hard times. General Grant's father in law remained "an unreconstructed rebel" that blamed Grant personally for the devastation Missouri suffered. Mary Todd Lincoln, the first Lady, had four brothers in the rebel army - and two of them perished in battle. James and John Welsh, brothers from the Shenandoah Valley, were separated by the war, James pledging allegiance to the Union and accusing John of being a traitor, while John told James that he had forsworn "home, mother, father, and brothers and are willing to sacrifice all for the dear nigger." Dr. Robert J. Breckinridge, the uncle of the Confederacy's President, remained loyal to the Union and despite his conservative tendencies he accused his nephew of being a traitor and would never speak to him again. William Goldsborough, fighting in an Union Maryland regiment, fought against his brother Charles, part of a Confederate Maryland regiment. And at Lexington, one loyal Kentuckian captured his Confederate brother.

Southern Unionists could at least strike back against their oppressors, but Union prisoners had no such luck. In 1863, as Southerners declared openly that they would re-enslave or massacre captured Black troops, refusing to treat them as prisoners of war, the Lincoln administration struck back by stopping at prisoner exchanges. "The enlistment of our slaves is a barbarity," declared the head of the Confederate Bureau of War. "No people . . . could tolerate . . . the use of savages [against them]. . . . We cannot on any principle allow that our property can acquire adverse rights by virtue of a theft of it.” Secretary of War Davis even said of Black prisoners that "we ought never to be inconvenienced with such prisoners . . . summary execution must therefore be inflicted on those taken." The issue was further aggravated by reports of the kidnapping of free blacks. Adopting a hardline, Lincoln declared in March, 1863 that "For every soldier of the United States killed in violation of the laws of war, a rebel soldier shall be executed; and for every one enslaved by the enemy or sold into slavery, a rebel soldier shall be placed at hard labor on the public works."

Breckinridge too had been radicalized. Though never a proponent of racial equality, previous to the war Breckinridge had, surprisingly enough, expressed some sympathy for free Blacks and leaned into anti-slavery. He, for example, refused to prosecute a free Black man accused of a crime unjustly (for the record, he refused to defend him either). He was willing to treat free Blacks as prisoners and return slaves if it was proved they had been free men. But now he declared that “the Negro, as an inferior race to be always subjected to the dominion of White men . . . must be put back in his natural condition of slavery as soon as possible. Once a treaty of peace has been concluded, those who had enjoyed a condition of liberty previous to the war may be returned to the United States. But all stolen property must remain in the South . . . and reparations must be offered for the property that cannot be restored.”

African Americans were routinely massacred by White Confederates, who were never prosecuted by their own government​

In truth, neither Lincoln nor Breckinridge had much lust for blood, and both paled at the actions of out of control partisans. The policy of retaliation was formed as a way to deter the other side from engaging in further war crimes, but since the Confederate government had never had control of its guerrilla bands, there was little Breckinridge could do to stop them. His orders to prosecute the criminals of Canton were simply never carried out, and they were, moreover, extremely unpopular. Lincoln, similarly, had little control over Union partisans both in the Border States and the South. But both sides saw the actions of these bloodthirsty murderers as sanctioned by the other government, the natural result being that the war was simply slipping out of control in many areas. Richmond and Philadelphia could do nothing to arrest these violent developments.

Lincoln is usually seen as a man of great compassion, who presided “like a father, with a tear in his eye, over the tragedy of the Civil War.” But in the face of such outrages, of such devastation and murder, Lincoln took a rather merciless posture. As historian Andrew Delbanco says, “He directed the war without relish, but also, in his way, without mercy.” He entered the Senate in 1854 believing in the innate goodness of Southerners. But as he saw Lyman Trumbull murdered and Charles Sumner almost so, as he observed how the South applauded murder and fraud in Kansas, as he realized that all Southerners took part and approved tacitly in the terrible actions of the guerrillas, Lincoln became convinced that it would not be enough to simply forgive Southerners and welcome them back. Their entire society, being built in White Supremacy and cruelty, had to be destroyed, and a new, radical conception of justice and equality had to be built in its place.

Driven by the “fateful lighting of His terrible swift sword”, the Union government took reprisals, declaring in a circular that “civilized nations acknowledge retaliation as the sternest feature of war. A reckless enemy often leaves to his opponent no other means of securing himself against the repetition of barbarous outrage.” Lincoln himself appeared in a Philadelphia and declared that “Having determined to use the negro as a soldier, there is no way but to give him all the protection given to any other soldier. The difficulty is not in stating the principle, but in practically applying it . . . If there has been the massacre of three hundred there, or even the tenth part of three hundred, it will be conclusively proved; and being so proved, the retribution shall as surely come.” And it came, two weeks later when 30 Confederate prisoners of war were put in trial for the massacre at Canton and executed, while a further 100 were put to work digging canals for Grant.

Why did the Union, in the face of such a cost, continue the war? It came, partly, from a spirit of revenge against Southern outrages. But also, from a sinking realization that war was the only way of assuring reunion. Many Northerners believed that if emancipation was simply dropped, then the South would be willing to reunite. But bold declarations poured forth from Richmond, not only stating that the South would only make peace in the terms of total independence, but also demanding the cession of Maryland, Missouri and Kentucky. “We would rather die than give up those territories to rebel criminals”, declared many Northern editorials. Further demands, such as “reparations” for slaves liberated abounded, from less than official sources but the fears they caused were real enough. The idea of leaving the loyal men of the South, exposing them to quite literal extermination, also informed the determination of the North. More than anything, it reflects a developing view of the Union cause as a sacred crusade and the war as penance for the national sins. Thus, and despite Chesnut attacks, Lincoln and the majority of the North closed ranks, imbued with a grim determination to see the war through.

Lincoln and the soldiers of the Union came to view their cause as a holy crusade for the construction of a new nation.​

This determination would be needed in the following campaign, which would decide whether the nation would survive or not.

 

[Red_Galiray]

A Kentucky Boy​

“Who will care for mother now?”, the sorrowful song asked. James listening to it alongside his comrades, all submerged in a pensive mood. They knew that tomorrow they would have to face the foe, and if they failed, then Kentucky would be lost, and with it the country. Their gallant General Thomas would lead them to victory, James was sure. But even the most successful general would lose at least some men, and should James fall in battle, who would care for his mother? His heart ached when he pictured her sweet face, full of smiles when he was but a boy and full of tears when he left to fight for the Union. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave your mother!”, she had pleaded. It was natural, for he was her only son – Father had died many years ago, and John had perished gloriously at Dover.

James almost stayed. The scene was painfully familiar. More than a year ago they found of John’s death after perusing anxiously through the long casualty lists. Chicago reeled mad with joy, that’s true, but in their small farm only devastation and suffering were present. The glory John had conquered for their country was not worth the price for Mother, and even as the newspapers celebrated General Grant, she would always talk of him as a butcher. It was good fortune, then, that his Kentucky regiment had been assigned to General Thomas. He said so, but that did nothing to soothe Mother’s pain. “I shall return from the field of battle”, he promised, “I wish this cruel war was over and I could remain here with you Mother. But my first duty is my country, and all Union men must fight.”

“I can’t lose you, my James”, she replied. “The Union has enough soldier boys. I only have you.” A knot formed in James throat, and he swallowed it with some effort. He pressed Mother closer to his chest, and kissed her forehead. “Mother, think of the pain we suffered when John was taken to the Almighty’s side. Thousands of women have lost their sons by the terrible hand of war during these two years. Down south, the rebels are right now murdering boys and Union men. I fight to end the war, to end the suffering. I fight, because I want no mother to feel as you have felt.” He left then, going to the nearest recruitment post and signing to fight. His green regiment was afterwards rushed into the heart of Kentucky when news came that the rebels had invaded their state.

He remembered the march, how he clutched his rifle against his heart to stop its painful palpitations. The rebels might have passed through their small farm. He knew of their cruelty, but James hoped, wanted to hope that they would spare an ancient lady. Yet he had heard of the dreadful crimes they committed in Kansas and Missouri, where neither sex nor age were any protection. Mother could neither read nor write, so any news that came were through the kind help of their neighbor. That, understandably, meant that they could not exchange letters often. James was only able to breathe freely when a letter arrived, saying that thanks to mighty God the rebels had taken another route, and so, she was spared of their cruel hand.

James had seen that cruelty in person, when he was trained next to a contraband camp. It was his first time seeing negroes up close. Father had hated them, because he couldn’t buy any and had to work the soil himself. Such education endowed James with prejudices that were hard to get rid of, but a contrabands’ teacher thought he ought to do so. “Think of your mother’s pain when your brother died”, the pasty-faced Yankee would say, “think of the pain of thousands of mothers who have lost their sons.” James just nodded, while chewing his hardtack. “Millions of Negro mothers have lost their sons, their daughters, their husbands, to slavery’s cruel designs, which have gone on for much longer than this war. The triumph of the national cause will not only stop the suffering of Northern women, but of the colored woman as well.”

Seeing the contrabands chipped away at James’ prejudices, very slowly. There was this little Negro girl who would carry dirty laundry around, helping her mother. When she was not doing that, she would learn her letters with the Yankee teacher. Once she came to him, and James saw the scars in her little shoulders. To think that such a little girl could be whipped! A few weeks later, news came that the rebels had raided the contraband camp. His company was sent there, and he observed the desolation. Mangled corpses were strewn everywhere, and the camp was covered with the smell of death and blood. Many negroes were sobbing, crying for a friend who was taken or a lover who was murdered. The woman who washed the clothes was crying desperately, howling for her daughter. The little girl, the Yankee teacher said later, had had her heart pierced by a marauder. The sobs of the mother reminded James so much of his own mother, how she suffered when John fell. That night, James wept for Mother, for John, for the Negro mother, for her little girl, for the war.

The next day, the bugle of war sounded forth, and James and his regiment marched to Lexington, where the rebels had made camp. The sad refrain, “who will care for mother now?” still echoed in his head. General Thomas hit the secesh with the force of a sledgehammer, and the rebels broke, the Union achieving a glorious victory. James learned this from the newspapers later. The actual battle was not glorious to him, as he and his comrades advanced grimly to the rebel lines. They saw the Confederate flag, and then heard that chilling scream. He and the others went forward. It seemed to James that he was possessed, for he could not control himself as he charged forward, howling with both rage and fear. But then, a bullet grazed his leg and he fell.

Suddenly everything came into focus, and he could hear nothing but screams and the bullets flying. A terrible fear seized him, and he could not stand up anymore. He tried to breathe slowly to calm himself, but then a shell exploded just a few feet aside. James could not support it anymore. He buried his face in his arms and asked God to have mercy and Mother to forgive him. At least he could see John now. Pressed against the cold snow, which was turning pink with the blood of the fallen, James lost consciousness, wondering whether this was death, and who would care for mother now.

A few minutes, or perhaps a few hours later, he woke up. The terrible sounds of battle continued, but now they came from afar. James raised his head, and saw the Stars and Stripes flying in the rebel position. They had won. The thud of boots in snow, however, told him that the battle continued. James looked around, to the many bodies resting in the snow. Who would care for their mothers now? It was in that moment that he remembered his melodramatic words, his florid declarations of patriotism and duty, and decided that they were not worth a damn if he never saw Mother again. He stood up, and clutching the rifle to his chest, he ran away and didn’t stop until he could no longer hear the bullets whistling. Only then he allowed himself to fall on the cold ground, now not a proud soldier, but a cowardly deserter.

He at least knew where the south was, so he started the march home. Another straggler joined him. It was a fellow Kentuckian, who also wanted to go home. Now that they had “seen the elephant”, neither wanted to take any part on the war. A woman was kind enough to offer them some cornbread, and that would have to do for some days more. But, of course, their luck ran out, and as they walked through a thick forest, they heard the hooves of horses. At first, they thought it was the military police, come to arrest and execute them as deserters. But it was worse: it was the rebels. In panic, he and his new comrade fled in opposite directions. They had heard what these guerrillas did to Union stragglers. James was able to hide; the other man was not so lucky.

“I’ve caught a traitor!”, one of the marauders said. “I know him, he is a Kentuckian.” Then he leaned forward, the bloodlust evident in his eyes. “So you wanted to fight for niggers, eh boy? Then die like one.” James bit into his muddy jacket to stop himself from making any noise as his comrade cried and begged. One of the guerrillas took out a length of rope, which they tied to a sturdy tree branch. They put the noose around the neck of their victim, and relished pulling on the rope, lifting him high in the sky before letting him go. Finally, they tired of this cruel game and pierced his heart with a bayonet. The man was braver and nobler than James could ever be, for he never revealed where James was hiding. Only when the raiders left and the sound of horses faded into the distance did James exit his hiding place. He observed the corpse of his comrade, still hanging from that branch and covered in blood and cuts. A little message saying that any Black Republican would be thus dealt with was pinned to his feet.

James continued his march. He stumbled into a house in a sorry state of disrepair, weeds covering what once might have been a pretty little garden. He resolved to beg for some food from the owner of the house, for he was desperate. So he opened the door and was met with the screech of a woman, who cowered from his presence. “Get away Yankee, get away! I’ve gots nothing to give you!” James put his palms forward, to show her he intended no harm. “I just want some food.” His voice and accent, far from calming her, just enraged her. “Traitor! Traitor!”, she cried. How could she say that? She, a secesh woman, accusing him of treason? “You have given your home to the Black Republicans! You have betrayed Kentucky and joined them damn Yankees”, she answered coldly.

“This was is your own fault”, James replied. “If you hadn’t tried to break the government we wouldn’t be here. Lay down your arms, traitors, and we’ll go home.” “Why can’t you go home now?”, the woman shrieked. “You can just turn back and will lose nothing. We risk everything.” James turned back somberly. “This place, ma’am, it’s my home too. You rebels have devastated it with your attacks, and have murdered scores of our people. You have left us no option. I won’t turn back until the rebellion is crushed.” He glanced back when he heard her quiet sobs. “You Yankees already took my husband and my son. Hanged him like a criminal. What more do you want?” James did not answer, and just went back to the door. Stopping there, he turned back and said in a low voice “I think this war has taken something from all of us.” She did not speak again. James left the house, and though his heart still ached for home and for Mother, he turned north, intending to rejoin his regiment. The war would continue, and he would still fight.

 

[Red_Galiray]

The weeks after the defeat at the Battle of Bull Run were the darkest months for the Union cause. As Lee and his victorious rebels prepared to cross the Potomac and invade the North, the morale of the people sank to its lowest levels since the start of the rebellion, and Confederate independence seemed practically assured. The Lincoln administration was forced not only to face the insurgent armies, but the bitter opposition of the increasingly powerful Copperheads and a serious challenge to his leadership from his own party. Partisan violence and political polarization covered the nation in blood, creating a step human cost that broke the will of many Union men. It was not clear whether Lincoln would be able to weather such a disastrous situation. It was truly the darkness before the dawn, and although things would get better eventually, just how close the Union came to defeat cannot be understated.

Perhaps more threatening than even Lee’s rebels were the Copperheads. So Lincoln confessed to Charles Sumner, saying that he feared more “the fire in the rear” than battlefield reverses. After the War Unionists were discredited and wiped off in the 1862 midterms, Peace Chesnuts known as Copperheads took over the Party and transformed it into an organ of anti-war unrest. Cut off from political power due to “this most disastrous epoch” that started with the 1858 midterms and made the Republicans the dominant political force in the North, Copperheads were forced to express their opposition to the war and to the Lincoln administration’s policies through violence, fraud and agitation. Emboldened by the latest military setbacks and by a strong racist backlash, Copperheads started a campaign of resistance that almost sunk the Union during the months following the Peninsula disaster.

The Copperheads’ most frequent charge was, of course, that Lincoln had set aside “the war for the Union” and in its place “the war for the Negro was begun.” The Copperheads argued openly that the war was a result of Republican fanatism, and that secession was a justified response to abolitionist attacks. The continuation of the war was just a result of Lincoln’s stubborn intransigence, and dropping emancipation as a war goal would be enough for hostilities to cease and constitutional reunion to take place. As Clement Vallandigham proclaimed, “In considering terms of settlement we [should] look only to the welfare, peace, and safety of the white race, without reference to the effect that settlement may have on the African."

Vallandigham was one of the most conspicuous Copperheads. The Ohioan had been the protagonist of a political drama in 1856, when he alleged that voting fraud had cost him a House seat. A House committee filled with Douglas Democrats took his side eventually, but the question was rendered moot when he lost the seat anyway in the 1858 Republican wave. Again, Vallandigham cried fraud, and evidence of scheming by the Buchanan Democrats lend credence to these claims. The result was that Vallandigham became something of a martyr of the Douglas-Buchanan feud, and he knew to exploit this by becoming one of Douglas’ staunchest supporters in his feeble 1860 campaign. The start of the war and Douglas’ triumphant comeback had served Vallandigham well, though even at that point he expressed a worrying sympathy with the South. After the Copperhead takeover, Vallandigham became the leader of the pro-peace faction.

Clement Vallandigham ​

The war, Vallandigham asserted in a speech before a large Ohio crowd just a few days after the Battle of Bull Run, had resulted in nothing but "defeat, debt, taxation, sepulchres . . . the suspension of habeas corpus, the violation . . . of freedom of the press and of speech . . . which have made this country one of the worst despotisms on earth for the past twenty months." “The dead of Manassas and Vicksburg” showed that attempts at forcible reunion had only resulted in “utter, disastrous, and most bloody failure.” The South could not be conquered, and Lincoln’s only option was to “Withdraw your army from the seceded States” and start negotiations for an armistice. Emancipation could not and should not be demanded as a precondition of peace, because there was “more of barbarism and sin, a thousand times, in the continuance of this war . . . and the enslavement of the white race by debt and taxes and arbitrary power”.

It's evident that aside from the old issues of Emancipation and what the objective of the war ought to be, the opposition adopted the new issues of martial law, military arrests, and conscription as rallying cries. Just like in the South, conscription had caused widespread discontent with the government and outright defiance in many occasions, as men reluctant to take place in a seeming failure of a war sought to escape the draft by any means, including violence. The Enrollment Act of 1863, passed shortly after the New Year, was similar to its Confederate counterpart in that its primary objective was to stimulate volunteering, but the law worked with “such inefficiency, corruption, and perceived injustice that it became one of the most divisive issues of the war” and a focal point of resistance to the Lincoln government.

The Enrollment Act, like other pieces of war-time legislation, was revolutionary in its nationalizing spirit, for the draft would not be conducted by the individual states but directly by the War Department. Stanton and his corps of Provost Marshals enforced it with the ruthless efficiency that characterized the Secretary, but unfortunately not even the incorruptible Stanton could assure complete honesty in the entire process. Individuals failed to report when their names were drawn from the lottery, skedaddling to swamps or other countries. Or they bribed officials to report a false dependency by an orphan child. Prostitutes were hired to pretend to be an indigent mother who pleaded for “her” son to remain home. Some feigned illness or injury, or bribed medics to declare them unfit for duty. One Doctor Beckwith even unabashedly sold certificated of unfitness for $35 dollars. If that failed, some men went as far as mutilating themselves, by cutting off fingers or pulling teeth.

Conscription was such an explosive issue because for many Northern communities it was the first time they had truly felt the hard hand of war. The parades of 1861 had of course left an indelible mark in the memory of thousands, but those were young idealists who volunteered for a war they thought would be short and glorious. It was completely different for “a young man to be torn from his farm and family” to fight in a conflict that seemed hopeless at the moment. “Few issues affected the home front so directly”, comments Donald Dean Jackson, “and few so severely tested the North's resolve to act as a nation”. Alexis de Tocqueville had once declared that "the notions and habits of the people of the United States are so opposed to compulsory recruitment that I do not think it can ever be sanctioned by their laws." This was now to be tested.

An aspect of the law that increased resistance to it was the fact that both volunteers and draftees would be assigned to existing regiments. During the original call for volunteers, the desire to serve with neighbors and friends and the pride of fighting in a unit named after one’s hometown had served as effective means of stimulating volunteers. Now, it was clear that green troops would perform better if aided by veterans. The need was further underscored by the simple if grim fact that many units only existed in paper, two years of war having resulted in their almost complete extermination, leaving on their wake entire towns “where only women, children and the elderly” remained. This was not without its consequences, for many veterans regarded the new conscripts with contempt, saying that "Such another depraved, vice-hardened and desperate set of human beings never before disgraced an army," and characterizing them as "bounty jumpers, thieves, roughs and cutthroats".

Civil War Conscription​

It can be discerned from these statements that special contempt was reserved for the so-called “bounty-jumpers”. The term referred to men who claimed bounties offered by the Federal government or local jurisdictions, only to then desert and claim another bounty. The practice of offering such bounties started with the war, as a way of offering subsistence to homes that lost their breadwinners. But as war fever ebbed and the need for fresh recruits increased, the sums offered started to climb as well – and with them the potential for fraud. After the Enrollment Act was passed, bounty jumpers were able to make easy fortunes by claiming several bounties or offering themselves as substitutes several times. One Connecticut youth, for example, sold himself for $300 and then bought a substitute for $150. “Substitute brokers” went into business as a way of obtaining the highest possible bounties for their clients, and insurance firms started to offer “draft polices” that gave from $300 to $500 so that clients could hire a substitute if drafted.

Substitution, as said in earlier chapters when Confederate conscription was discussed, had such deep roots in European and American military history that its inclusion was not questioned. This did not stop charges of “a rich man’s war, a poor man’s fight”, as the soaring price of substitutes meant that only the well-off could contract them, while the poor man would inevitably end up in the army. Around a little Vermont town, the price of substitutes rose to over 900 dollars, while Cortland practically bankrupted itself by paying for substitutes to “preserve the unity of families intact and snatch unwilling victims from the moloch of war”. “The Rich are exempt!”, cried an outraged Iowa newspaper.

Originally, Republican lawmakers intended to include a 300 dollars commutation fee as a way to cap the price of substitutes and put it within the reach of the poor. So said Senator Wilson, who believed that the law ought to “throw a dragnet over the country and take up the rich and the poor and put the burden upon all." The commutation fee would also work similarly to Southern occupation exceptions, by keeping those valuable to the war effort on the home-front. But the outcry against “blood money” was so severe that Republicans decided to not include the $300 dollar fee, instead creating a series of exceptions that included not just respectable white-collar occupations like telegraph operators, teachers, clergymen and clerks, but also some common occupations like firemen, miners or industrial laborers. Racial resentments were also soothed by the fact that Black men were also liable for conscription, though it was limited to free people for the moment.

The draft produced extremely bitter and partisan denunciations by Copperheads who saw conscription as “an unconstitutional means to achieve the unconstitutional end of freeing the slaves”. A Pennsylvania lawmaker denounced the law as “unconstitutional, unjust, unjustified,” and a Chesnut convention pledged to “resist to the death all attempts to draft any of our citizens into the army”. These pledges were not merely words, for communities were ready to resort to violence to preventing conscription from taking place. In Wisconsin, eight companies of troops had to be summoned after a mob carrying a banner that said “No Draft!” murdered an enrollment officer, and two others shared this unhappy fate in Indiana. A Pennsylvania officer received a threatening letter: "If you don't lay aside the enrolling, your life will be taken tomorrow night”. More officials forms of resistance abounded too. The Pennsylvania Supreme Court produced a ruling that declared the draft unconstitutional (the government ignored it), and even the Republican Governor of New Hampshire warned that the draft could only be enforced in his state with the presence of an infantry regiment.

The greatest basis of opposition, of course, came from the Chesnuts, who used their favorite weapon to great effectiveness. Emphasizing the point that the draft would force White men to fight for Negro emancipation, Chesnut politicians and newspapers denounced conscription in racist terms. An editor told a Catholic meeting that the President “would be dammed if he believed they would go and fight for the nigger,” while a Chesnut speaker said that slave emancipation would bring thousands of freed Blacks to "fill the shops, yards and other places of labor" soldiers had left behind, thus forcing “the poor, limping veteran” to “compete with them for the support of our families." Samuel S. Cox said that the real cause of the war was the "Constitution-breaking, law-defying, negroloving Phariseeism of New England" A National Unionist meeting resolved they would fight for Uncle Sam, “but never for Uncle Sambo”. Class tensions and racism were reinforced by diverse incidents, like in New York, where striking Irishmen were replaced by Black laborers.

Throughout the North there were many outbreaks of anti-draft resistance​

In the face of such resistance, the Lincoln administration once again took extreme measures to enforce the draft. To prevent judges from issuing writs of habeas corpus to free conscripts, he suspended the writ nationwide once again, and authorized the arrest of anyone who discouraged enlistment or engaged in other kinds of “disloyal practices”. This included the arrest of disloyal newspapers, and some people apparently even began to carefully consider what they said in personal letters. A Chesnut Senator charged that through these actions Lincoln was “declaring himself a Dictator, (for that and nothing less it does)”, and reports of men jailed merely for “hurrahing Johnny Breckenridge” abounded. War Unionists had been willing to accept such arrest during the first months of the war as a way to stamp out treason in the Border South. “I grant, sir, that there was a time when anarchy and confusion reigned in the Border Slave States” and such arrest were necessary, declared one of them. But “that there can be no such justification, no palliation, no excuse”, for arrests in “the loyal states of the North” far from the frontlines.

On February 15th, the War Department issued a series of infamous regulations that allowed military commanders “to arrest and imprison any person or persons who may be engaged, by act, speech, or writing, in discouraging volunteer enlistments, or in any way giving aid and comfort to the enemy, or in any other disloyal practice against the United States”. A series of sweeping arrests followed. In those feverish months were the very fate of the Union seemed at stake and scared Unionists saw treason and butchery in any corner, the scenes in several Northern communities approached those of the French Revolution, with mere accusations being enough to have someone arrested. Mark E. Neely condemns these events, arguing that the February orders, called mockingly “Lincoln’s 14 Frimaire” by opposing Chesnuts, “showed the Lincoln administration at its worst—amateurish, disorganized, and rather unfeeling.” Altogether, almost a thousand men were arrested during the period of February to May 1863.

In reaction to these events, Chesnuts from all over the country denounced Lincoln as a “despot . . . who disregards the Constitution in the name of fanatism” and prosecuted a war “for the benefit of Negroes and the enslavement of Whites”. Horatio Seymour, the defeated 1862 candidate for the New York Governorship, said that emancipation was “bloody, barbarous, revolutionary" and that he would never accept the doctrine that that the loyal North lost their constitutional rights when the South rebelled.” Representative Cox, an Ohioan like Vallandigham, charged Lincoln with taking actions “unwarranted by the Constitution and laws of the United States”, which constituted “a usurpation of power never given up by the people to their rulers.” The New York Atlas attacked “the tyranny of military despotism” and “the weakness, folly, oppression, mismanagement and general wickedness of the administration at Philadelphia.” A common denunciation was that the law was most commonly employed against Chesnuts as a way of getting rid of political opponents. One woman, for example, denounced that Union soldiers broke into her home in the middle of the night and took away her husband. His crime was simply attending a National Union convention.

Lincoln justified these actions by declaring that in a civil war such as the nation faced, the entire country constituted a battlefield. He insisted that it was necessary to arrest those “laboring, with some effect, to prevent the raising of troops [and] to encourage desertions”, for they were “damaging the army, upon the existence and vigor of which the life of the nation depends”. Conducting such actions in the North was justified, for "under cover of 'liberty of speech,' 'liberty of the press,' and Habeas corpus,' [the rebels] hoped to keep on foot amongst us a most efficient corps of spies, informers, suppliers, and aiders and abbettors of their cause." The suspension of civil liberties, Lincoln concluded, was “constitutional wherever the public safety does require them.” Using a “homely metaphor”, the President promised that such excesses would not continue in peace-time, and arguing that they would was like saying “that a man could contract so strong an appetite for emetics during temporary illness, as to persist in feeding upon them through the remainder of his healthful life.”

These arguments, published on the New York Tribune, were accepted by Republicans who had entered into a crisis mode. As in other revolutions and wars, the people craved strong government and decisive action in order to protect their safety and assure ultimate victory, and this helps explain why the North was willing to accept such flagrant violations of civil rights. The overarching reason was, naturally, news of rebel atrocities in the South, which caused such a political polarization in the North that soon enough everyone who did not support the Union was accused of treason and of being in favor “of the butchery of women and children and the total extermination of the Union men of the nation.” The people did not merely welcome Lincoln’s actions, but took justice in their own hands in order to suppress any perceived treason, freely using intimidation and violence.

Political opponents were charged with being supporters of the rebellion and their atrocities​

In Ohio, an editor was stopped from publishing an anti-war article after a mob appeared before his house with a guillotine, emblazoned with the message “the remedy for treason.” A Massachusetts editor was less lucky, for after he criticized the government a mob formed outside of his house. Accusing him of being in favor of “rebel marauders”, the mob seized him and gave him a coat of tar and feathers before exiling him from the town. An anti-war orator was shot when he dared venture into an Indiana town that had suffered a rebel raid, the townsfolk crying that it was the fault of traitors like him that the war continued. Deserters and draft dodgers were shamed and shunned by their peers. The story of a young man who was given a dress by his sweetheart after he refused to enlist seems quaint when compared with the stories of a Pennsylvania town were fears of rebel invasion had whipped the people into a frenzy. There, draft dodgers were marked with the letter “T” by people who said they wanted to aid the rebels in their rapine and massacre, and one deserter was tied to a tree and set in fire.

Just like how Chesnuts accused African Americans of being the cause of the war, Republicans started to accuse Copperheads of being the cause of the latest failures. A year ago, one editor had asked why the 20 million loyal people of the North hadn’t been able to overcome 5 million rebels; now, a Radical editorial offered an answer: “The fault lies in every wiley agitator, who encourages desertion and cowardice, and . . . enter into intrigues with rebels to assure our defeats.” Indeed, McClellan had been a National Unionists, hadn’t he? And Vallandigham was encouraging desertion even as Lee advanced into Pennsylvania, whose people were afraid of suffering like the Kansans and East Tennesseans had. If the National cause was to be victorious, any such show of disloyalty had to be trampled and exterminated, until only “true Union men” were in charge. A horrified man interrupted a speech given to this effect by predicting rivers of blood and terror far beyond the worse Jacobin excesses. The speaker, to enormous cheers, replied that “if scaffolds and guillotines from the Susquehanna to the Rio Grande be needed to preserve this temple of freedom, I say, let it be done.”

Accordingly, Copperheads suffered abuse and violence at the hands of Radicals who blamed them for military reserves and war atrocities. When a Copperhead advocated for resistance to the draft, a mob of women formed to confront him. They said that many of their husbands had fallen in battle for lack of support in the Homefront, and that “traitors such as you, sir, are the direct cause of such want of morale and men” in the battlefield. The women proceeded to tar and feather the man, and when another man tried to intervene, they hit him with bricks and sticks, giving him a severe concussion. A similar but even worse fate befell a peace speaker who was confronted by Union soldiers in furlough. They all had lost comrades in rebel raids, and, enraged by “this open advocacy of treason at our very homes”, they attacked him, breaking his arm and leaving him bleeding from a head wound. Copperhead newspapers were attacked and burned to the ground, and “Union League” militias broke National Union conventions.

These lamentable events reflect the developing of an “us vs them” mentality that meant that anyone that did not support the war and the government was a traitor who cheered for rebel murderers. One Republican congressman so complained, saying that he did not endorse “Lincoln’s Robespierrean campaign”, but that if he voiced such opposition he would be heckled as being a traitor and treated as if he were “personally responsible for the latest rebel outrages.” Some political “purges” took place as people who did not support the war’s prosecution were charged with being for disunion. One Republican was forced to vote for a bill empowering Lincoln to suspend Habeas Corpus. He at first fretted that he would not win reelection, but a colleague dispelled these fears: “Reelection? You’d better get your nomination first. Haven’t you learnt that it is the Radicals who do that job nowadays?” A moderate Republican was accused of being a Copperhead by a mob that fierily declared they could forgive rebels, but never a Copperhead. Intimidated by their presence, the politician was forced to call for Breckenridge to be hung from a sour apple tree before the mod dispersed.

Union Leagues and Loyal Publication Societies began to spring throughout the North, carrying stories of rebel atrocities and interviews with people who suffered under their rule or their raids. The Republicans were not above extralegal or even outright illegal actions in order to assure victory. Indiana’s Governor, Oliver P. Morton, convinced the Republicans in the National Union legislature to withdraw, preventing a quorum. Forced to run the state without the usual appropriations, Morton borrowed from banks and received $250,000 dollars from the War Department. An attempt to do likewise in Illinois, where very slim Republican majority in the Legislature ruled alongside the radical Governor Yates, failed because Federal troops arrested National Unionists and held them forcibly in the Legislative chambers for some important votes. Accused then of dereliction of duty, they were forced to resign their seats and were promptly replaced by Republicans in elections where fraud was alleged.

Oliver P. Morton​

Extralegal actions were also taken to prevent the Governorships of Connecticut and New Hampshire from falling into Copperhead hands. The War Department furloughed Connecticut soldiers (and some, it’s said, from other states as well) to allow them to go home and vote the Republican ticket. Widespread violence and fraud were reported, as Union League paramilitaries guarded the ballot boxes. Anyone seen as sympathetic to the Copperheads was prevented from voting, and a woman who leaned towards the Radicals talked of “a glorious campfire made with the votes of traitors.” In New Hampshire such methods were not required due to a third candidacy by a War Unionist, who split the anti-Republican vote. The election was thrown to the Republican legislature which, obviously, elected their man.

This split is emblematic of a deeper division within the National Union. The main division was, of course, between War Chesnuts and Copperheads. Since both camps were committed to reunion and opposed to the Lincoln administration, an alliance was easy to maintain as long as those twin goals were maintained. But as the war degenerated into a desperate struggle that would see one side victorious and the other completely defeated, it became obvious that reunion could only be effectuated by a complete triumph over the enemy. Thus, a new division between the Peace Chesnuts who only accepted peace if it came with reunion, and the Copperheads, who considered war and abolition such great evils that they were willing to accept disunion. It’s dubious that all Chesnut were willing to accept this, but in the face of such political polarization and with Northerners worried about their very survival, any pro-peace sentiment was denounced as disunionist and treasonous, and advocacy for massacre and rapine.

This was a conundrum for Douglas Chesnuts who followed his maxim of country over Party and rejected partisan attacks in favor of a crusade for the Union. Some, of course, had been alienated by emancipation and the new radical measures. But as Copperheads came to accept disunion as the price for peace, the question for these War Chesnuts became whether they were willing to accept abolition as the price for Union. Some, such as Daniel S. Dickinson of New York, did so. More astoundingly, there were men like Benjamin Butler, who had supported Buchanan and Breckenridge and was now well on the road to become a Radical Republican. Complicating matters was the lack of coherence and unity of purpose of the National Union. Formed by Douglas as a popular sovereignty party, it had crashed disastrously in 1858 and 1860, and even in 1863 it was unable to find a coherent basis of opposition or command loyalty to the party itself.

The rebels themselves shot down Copperhead hopes of peaceful reunion by their demands for Maryland, Missouri and Kentucky and their terrible acts of terrorism against Unionists. Vallandigham, conferring illegally with Confederate agents in Canada, pushed forward for reconciliation, and asked them for support in a campaign for the Ohio governorship, promising that "the peace party of the North would sweep the Lincoln dynasty out of existence." The Confederate agents replied that he was “badly deluded”, and in response Vallandigham said that they would be open to recognizing Confederate independence if they refused to come back. A Union spy recorded these conversations and leaked them to the press, where the Union League took care that they were spread far and wide to both show that Copperheads were traitors and also that War Chesnuts had only two options: peace and disunion, or war and Union.

The portrait of the Copperheads as just another set of traitors took special importance when news of treasonous conspiracies in the Midwest and New York started to be reported. In New York, there were widespread rumors “of a purpose by the local Copperhead population to raise in insurrection” at the same time as Lee’s invasion, in order to assure a Confederate victory. Curiously enough, there apparently was not a great reaction to these reports, which leads one to suspect that they were created later with the benefit of hindsight. Rumors of plans for the formation of a Midwest Republic that would conclude a separate treaty of peace and perhaps even join the Confederacy abounded, and caused greater fears at the time.

Reports of dealings between Copperheads and rebels stiffened the resolve of the Republicans​

Besides the racism that sadly characterized the region, Midwestern resentment was partly a result of economic grievances. The Mississippi was still closed, and the mighty river had been the main venue of commerce and transport of these states previous to the war. Now they had to rely in railroad commerce with the East, which they frankly saw as degrading. An Ohio editor went as far as saying that the region would "sink down as serfs to the heartless, speculative Yankees”, after being “swindled by his tariffs, robbed by his taxes, skinned by his railroad monopolies." “The rising storm in the Middle and Northwestern States,” a loyal Illinois man predicted, would cause “not only a separation from the New England States but reunion of the Middle and Northwestern States with the revolted States.” Already alarmed Republicans started to see “Treason... everywhere bold, defiant—and active, with impunity!”.

News of complots like this one and of prominent Copperheads conferring with rebel agents increased the perception of the National Union as just “another organ of the Breckenridge insurrection” and their speakers as people employed directly by Richmond. Republicans started to see in fevered nightmares a future where the Confederacy had taken not only the Border States but the Midwest and Pennsylvania and engaged in the extermination of all loyal men there. Copperhead support for unconditional peace and Republican pushes for unconditional victory put Conservative Republicans and War Chesnuts in a very uncomfortable condition. “What am I to do”, one of them lamented, “on one side there are the abolitionists and their radical objectives, on the other there are traitors, defeat and dishonor.” Some Republican conservatives would have surely deserted their party had the opposition been more moderate. Instead, they found themselves in the company of “traitors and Copperheads”. Unable to accept this, most remained in the Republican fold, even if reluctantly.

Some pinned their hopes in the creation of a grand conservative party that would limit itself to “the constitutional prosecution of the war” a scheme that men like Horatio Seymour, Thurlow Weed and even Lincoln himself at times seemed to favor. But if the National Union coalition was floundering due to divisions between pro-war and pro-peace faction, the differences between Republicans and Chesnuts were much more fundamental and much more severe, and they precluded any attempt to form such a coalition. The accusation that people who did not support the Administration were Copperheads and the violent actions taken to suppress them also forced many to choose. ‘There are few journals in this city in whose columns, during the present civil war, can not be found invocations to violence against dissentients from their opinion”, bemoaned Samuel J. Tilden. The result was that opposition to the Lincoln administration remained incoherent, divided and weak, unable to present a united front.

This was very fortunate for Lincoln, for a more competent opposition might have been able to force him out at that time of crisis. As things were, he was barely able to resist sagging civilian morale and challenges to his leadership from his own party. “Failure of the army, weight of taxes, depreciation of money, want of cotton . . . increasing national debt, deaths in the army, no prospect of success, the continued closure of the Mississippi [River] . . . all combine to produce the existing state of despondency and desperation”, said the Chicago Tribune, adding that “the war is drawing toward a disastrous and disgraceful termination.” Harpers Weekly declared that the people "have borne, silently and grimly, imbecility, treachery, failure, privation, loss of friends, but they cannot be expected to suffer that such massacres as this at Bull Run shall be repeated”. A Maine soldier wrote home that “the great cause of liberty has been managed by Knaves and fools. The whole show has been corruption, the result disaster, shame and disgrace.”

Even some Republicans were now willing to accept peace. A soldier confessed that "my loyalty is growing weak. . . . I am sick and tired of disaster and the fools that bring disaster upon us. . . . Why not confess we are worsted, and come to an agreement?" The erratic Horace Greeley, who swung from radical demands of emancipation to loud yelps for peace depending on battlefield fortunes, even proposed a hare-brained scheme for peace that involved an offer of mediation by Napoleon III. Greeley’s action so offended Seward that he threatened to have him indicted under the Logan Act, but they do reflect Northern despondency. "Our bleeding, bankrupt, almost dying country," he wrote, "longs for peace—shudders at the prospect of terrible conscription, of further wholesale devastations, and of new rivers of human blood."

Many Republicans blamed Lincoln for the course the war had taken. They accused him of being a “half-witted and incapable idiot”, even intimating that his “secesh wife, the Traitoress Mrs. Lincoln” had prevented a vigorous prosecution of the war. Minnesota’s Senator Wilkinson would declare that there was no hope “except in the death of the President and a new administration.” Former Justice Samuel Curtis found that most Republicans agreed on “the utter incompetence of the Pres[iden]t . . . He is shattered, dazed and utterly foolish.” A Michigan representative thought Lincoln “so vacillating, so week [sic] ... so fearful... and so ignorant... that I can now see scarcely a ray of hope left.” Richard Henry Dana Jr. found “the most striking thing is the absence of personal loyalty to the President. It does not exist.” Wild rumors circulated in Philadelphia, saying that the entire cabinet would resign and be replaced by War Chesnuts or even Copperheads, or that Frémont or Butler would be called to act as dictator, or that Radical Republicans planned to depose Lincoln and create a Revolutionary Directory to rule the country.

William Pitt Fessenden​

Much talk was focusing on bitter recriminations against the Cabinet. Moderates charged Stanton and Chase were malign influences that were pushing Lincoln to radical measures, but moderates had also been pushed towards radicalism as a result of Southern atrocities. “Go and vote for burning Churches, raping women, and massacring Union men”, Senator Wade goaded, “or vote with the Chesnuts, which is the same thing.” They still felt uncomfortable with the prospect of a crusade for abolition and the complete destruction of the South, but were much more willing to accept hard war measures as a reaction to Southern terror. They recognized in Lincoln a kindred spirit, and although their faith on their Party leader had been badly shaken, they still preferred him to radical alternatives. Most alienation came from the Radicals, who focused their rage on Seward as a “paralyzing influence” who “kept a sponge saturated with chloroform to Uncle Abe’s nose.”

A caucus of Republican Senators took a vote for a resolution calling on Lincoln to remove Seward, which failed thanks to the objections of moderates. The caucus intended to carry their demands to Lincoln anyway, but before that Senator Preston King slipped to confer with his old friend. Seward declared that “They may do as they please about me, but they shall not put the President in a false position on my account”, and wrote his resignation, which King delivered to Lincoln. The anguished President, “With a face full of pain and surprise” asked King what the resignation meant. Lincoln was quick to recognize that Radical wrath was in truth an attempt to wrestle power away from his administration, which radicals like Senator Grimes characterized as a “tow string” that had to be bound up “with strong, sturdy rods in the shape of cabinet ministers.” The secretary they had in mind was Salmon P. Chase, who for months had claimed that “there was a back stairs & malign influence which controlled the President” and prevented more radical measures.

The Radicals then expanded their scope by demanding a “partial reconstruction of the cabinet” in a resolution that commanded unanimity within the Republican caucus. They then sent a “Committee of Nine” to present their demands. Orville Browning, one of the few Senators still loyal to Lincoln, visited the President and found him in great distress. "What do these men want?", Lincoln asked. "They wish to get rid of me, and sometimes I am more than half disposed to gratify them. . . . We are now on the brink of destruction. It appears to me that the Almighty is against us and I can hardly see a ray of hope." But the President was able to pull himself together, and he called for a Cabinet meeting of every Secretary except Seward at the same time as his reunion with the Senatorial Committee. He then asked every Cabinet member to say “whether there had been any want of unity or of sufficient consultation.”

This put Chase, the source of many malignant rumors against Seward, on the spot. As Donald explains, “If he now repeated his frequent complaints to the senators, his disloyalty to the President would be apparent. If he supported Lincoln’s statement, it would be evident that he had deceived the senators.” Chase finally had to support the President, which constituted a blow against his Radical allies. “He will never be forgiven by many for deliberately sacrificing his friends to the fear of offending his and their enemies,” said the offended Senator Fessenden. Chase then proceeded to offer his resignation too, which the triumphant Lincoln seized at once, exclaiming “this cuts the gordian knot!”. Indeed, now the Radicals couldn’t force Seward out without losing Chase. The President thus had asserted his leadership and warded off this political challenge, showing that Congressional Republicans could not simply dictate what course he ought to take. As he told Browning, “he was master, and they should not do that.” Later, he explained that in managing to gain the begrudging respect of the Radicals and the genuine allegiance of the Moderates, Lincoln was now able to ride for he had a ”pumpkin on each of my bags”.

A Copperhead Political cartoon that encompasses several of their criticism of the President's government​

Though Lincoln had been able to ward off political threats to his leadership of the war from both Copperheads and Radicals, the President recognized that his administration was still imperiled as long as military victories were not achieved. As he told a friend, “On the progress of our arms, all else chiefly depends”, and this was truer than ever in those trying months. As Lee set forth in his invasion of Pennsylvania and Reynolds advanced to meet him on the field of battle, everyone was conscious that more than simple victory was riding with the Army of the Susquehanna: the very survival of the Republic was at stake.