Circa1865

Ambrose Burnside was the same northern commander who, when invading the Outer Banks and northeastern North Carolina, proclaimed that “We come to give you back law and order, the Constitution, your rights under it, and to restore peace.” What soon followed was looting, property seizure and destruction, and oppression.

When Burnside arrived at his new Department of the Ohio command at Cincinnati in early 1863, Lincoln’s commander of the Department of Indiana apprised him of extreme discontent and that Illinois and Ohio seemed “on the edge of a volcano” after Lincoln’s clamp down on dissent. Treason against the United States is succinctly defined in Section III, Article 3 of the U.S. Constitution as waging war against them, the States, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort.”

The Authority to Define and Suppress Treason in Ohio

“[In April 1863,] Major-General Ambrose E. Burnside became acquainted with his new duties as commander with headquarters in Cincinnati. His defeat at Fredericksburg the previous December still rankled him, affecting his disposition as well as his reputation.

General Burnside had no understanding of the reasons for the widespread disaffection in the upper Midwest. As a military general, and a discredited one at that, he understood only the law of force. He read the editorials and news stories in the Cincinnati Gazette and the Cincinnati Commercial but was incapable of recognizing their partisan slant. He accepted the Republican-sponsored interpretation that James J. Faran of the Cincinnati Enquirer, Logan of the Dayton Empire and Samuel Medary of the Crisis played a traitorous game. He believed they sowed the dragon’s teeth of discontent, aided the rebels of the South, and discouraged enlistments at the North.

Thus Burnside, in a rash moment, issued “General Orders, No. 38” on April 13, 1863. It was a military edict intended to intimidate Democratic critics of President Lincoln and the war. The “habit of declaring sympathy for the enemy,” Burnside stated, would no longer be tolerated in the Department of the Ohio; persons “committing such offenses” would be arrested and subject to military procedures – that is, be denied rights in the civil courts.

The indiscreet general thus set himself up as a censor to draw the fine line between criticism and treason and decide when a speaker or an editor gave aid and comfort to the enemy. He established his own will as superior to the civil courts, usurping for the military the right to define and judge, to determine the limits of dissent. Worse than that, his proclamation implied that criticism of Lincoln’s administration, in any form, was treason and that civil officials and civil courts had failed to do their duty by not eliminating it.

Speaking at a Republican political rally in Hamilton, halfway between Dayton and Cincinnati, Burnside gave clear evidence of his poor judgment. To the applause of partisans, he declared that he had the authority to define and suppress treason.”

(The Limits of Dissent – Clement L. Vallandigham and the Civil War. Frank L. Klement. Fordham University Press, 1998, pp. 148-150)

North Carolina’s wartime Governor Zebulon Vance wrote the following postwar letter to an Australian friend. Importantly, he mentions the South’s fear of a similar massacre of white persons as occurred in mid-1790s Haiti – with the Nat Turner massacre as an example of abolitionist-inspired revolt. The northern States did not want black migration to their section as the ex-slaves would work at low wages and take jobs from white workers.

Conditions Just After the War

“Of course I cannot give you much criticism upon the war, or the causes of our failure; nor can I attempt to do justice to the heroism of our troops or of the great men developed by the contest. This is the business of the historian, and when he traces the lines which are to render immortal the deeds of this revolution, if truth and candor guide his pen, neither our generals nor our soldiers will be found inferior to any who have fought and bled within a century.

When all of our troops had laid down their arms, then was immediately seen the results which I had prophesied. Slavery was declared abolished – two thousand millions of property gone from the South at one blow, leaving four million freed vagabonds among us – outnumbering in several States the whites – to hang as an incubus upon us and re-enact from time to time the horrors of Hayti and San Domingo. This alone was a blow from which the South will not with reasonable industry recover in one hundred years.

Then too, the States have been reduced to the condition of territories, their Executive and Judicial (and all other) officers appointed by the Federal Government, and are denied all law except that of the military. Our currency, of course, is gone, and with it went the banks and bonds of the State, and with them went to ruin thousands of widows, orphans and helpless persons whose funds were invested therein.

Their railroads destroyed, towns and villages burned to ashes, fields and farms laid desolate, homes and homesteads, palaces and cabins only marked to the owners eye by the blackened chimneys looming out on the landscape, like the mile marks on a great highway of desolation as it swept over the blooming plains and happy valleys of our once prosperous land!  The stock all driven off and destroyed, mills and agricultural implements specially ruined; many wealthy farmers making with their own hands a small and scanty crop with old artillery horses turned out by the troops to die.

But, thank God, though witchcraft and poverty doth abound, yet charity and brotherly love doth much more abound. A feeling of common suffering has united the hearts of our people and they help one another.  Our people do not uselessly repine over their ruined hopes. They have gone to work with amazing alacrity and spirit. Major Generals, Brigadiers, Congressmen, and high functionaries hold the plough and sweat for their bread. A fair crop was the reward of last season’s labor, and there will hardly be any suffering for next year except among the Negroes, who, forsaking their old masters, have mostly flocked into town in search of their freedom, where they are dying and will die by the thousands.”

(Conditions Just After the War, letter of Zebulon Vance to John Evans Brown of Sidney, Australia, reprinted in the Raleigh News & Observer, Confederate Veteran Magazine, June 1931, pp. 215-216)

In early June 1864, Gen. Ulysses S. Grant engaged Gen. Lee at Cold Harbor with a well-equipped 117,000-man army, against Gen. Robert E. Lee’s 60,000 ragged and hungry men in grey rags. After several days of futile assaults, Grant decreased his strength by 12,738 men – 1845 killed outright, 9077 wounded and over 1800 captured or missing. Lee’s loss was 5,287 men, of which 788 were killed, the remainder captured or missing.

“Not Veterans, But Trained Soldiers”

“At Bermuda Hundred, Virginia in late-May 1864, a new division was formed under the command of Major-General Robert F. Hoke and consisting of the following: the North Carolina brigades of Maj. Gen’s James Martin and Thomas Clingman; the South Carolina brigade of Brig. Gen. Johnson Hagood, and the Georgia brigade of Brig. Gen. Alfred Colquitt.

General Grant ordered Sheridan’s cavalry and a corps of infantry to seize the heights of New Cold Harbor. Hoke’s division was first ordered to Richmond on June 1, and then moved into the fighting line at Cold Harbor. On the same day, Maj. Gen. Richard Anderson, with Maj. Gen. Richard Kershaw’s and Hoke’s divisions, attacked Sheridan and drove him back to Old Cold Harbor while securing the heights around New Cold Harbor and Gaines’ Mill – an all-important movement for the approaching battle.

These high positions were at once fortified for they were the key to Richmond. The troops were halted under the fire of an unseen enemy, but a line of skirmishers was quickly thrown out and the enemy’s picket line was driven out of reach. Maj. Gen. Martin formed his brigade en echelon, thus enabling his command to take the most dangerous position on the line and hold it under heavy fire. Had it not been for this well-directed movement at the opportune moment, the brigade might have been repulsed or captured. The skirmishers of the Forty-second had captured the crest of the hill, which position they fortified during the night, using their bayonets and pans, and were ready for the conflict.

It is stated that General Lee learned that the enemy’s main effort would be directed against Martin’s part of the line, and sent a message to him to replace his brigade with a brigade of veterans. Martin replied with his compliments, saying that while his brigade were not veterans, they were trained soldiers and would hold their part of the line.

That day’s conflict showed the stuff the Forty-second was made of, for they held their line without flinching or wavering. In this battle the Confederates gained a decisive victory. In many places in front of the line of battle the dead and wounded were thick enough to walk on.

It is reported that the enemy lost 10,000 men in twenty minutes.”

(Histories of the Several Regiments and Battalions from Noth Carolina in the Great War, 1861-1865. Walter Clark, editor, Written by Members of the Respective Commands. Nash Brothers Publishing, 1900. p. 798)

War between North and South was not a foregone conclusion in early 1861 as President James Buchanan encouraged and awaited peaceful legislative settlements of the existing sectional issues. Buchanan, a seasoned diplomat and negotiator with previous service as US Minister to England under President Pierce, Secretary of State under President Polk, and Minister to Russia for President Jackson. In contrast, Lincoln served in the Illinois House 1835-1842 and served a mere 2 years as US Representative from Illinois.

War Was Not the Only Path   

In the eighty-three years since the election of Lincoln, there has been a compression of events which places the firing upon Fort Sumter, April 12, 1861, hard upon the heels of the Republican victory on November 6, 1860. The magnitude of the Civil War itself has tended to telescope the important 150 days of possible compromise which intervened. Yet there is good reason to believe that President James Buchanan, as well as many other leaders, expected to avoid open conflict. The mood of the country had sobered at the realization that a sectional party had elected a president. Public opinion, in general, was entirely remote from the thought of war.

In the Ohio Valley, for example, the hour of decision was still half a year away. South of the Ohio the tier of border states which had voted for John Bell was ready to work desperately for compromise and Union. It is, of course, now well known that no complete consolidation of opinion ever occurred either in the North or the South.

The mass of opinion in the country found expression, therefore, on December 3, 1860, when Buchanan clearly enunciated his position as chief executive and, in constitutional terms, called upon the legislative branch of government to assume its responsibility for effecting a peaceful solution of the crisis. Forty years of public service, in both houses of Congress, in the cabinet and the courts of Europe, suggested arbitration to Buchanan. Schooled in constitutional debate, the technique of conciliation, and the adjustment of minority rights, as had occurred notably in 1820, 1832, and 1850, this Scotch-Irish Presbyterian president had carefully examined his own soul and the Constitution of the United States, and found that Congress, and Congress alone, had the power to arbitrate or to act. War, he believed, “ought to be the last desperate remedy of a despairing people, after every other constitutional means of conciliation had been exhausted.”

A month later, when South Carolina had, on December 20, voted to secede, and Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas were on the point of secession, Buchanan remained firm in his conviction that “justice as well as sound policy requires us still to seek a peaceful solution.” The prevailing sentiment of the country for adjustment, which found expression in such bodies as the Virginia-led Washington Peace Convention of February 1861, and the Crittenden Compromise, was strong and unchanged, though less articulate than the extremists on both sides. If the tall shadow of the president-elect lay across every discussion, then it will be remembered that Lincoln remained, during this period, a shadow indeed, without voice of assurance or warning.

Buchanan’s conciliatory stand has, until recently, been buried under the avalanche of post-war attitudes which show him only as the inept and weak man who stepped down for Lincoln’s administration. Not until the early decades of this century has a critical use of prejudiced sources and a body of new evidence indicated a revision. Was the Civil War necessary to save the Union, historians have now begun to ask. An able scholar of the new school, James G. Randall, comments succinctly:

“If . . . preservation of the Union by peaceable adjustment was possible, then unionists were not faced with a choice of war or disunion, but rather a choice between a Union policy of war and a Union policy in the Virginia sense of adjustment and concession.”

Especially suggestive to students of the period is Randall’s recent statement that “the wars that have not happened” should be studied. Judged in the light of “historical relativity” rather than in the concept of the “irrepressible conflict,” Buchanan’s policy, particularly as outlined in his December 3rd address to the nation, is subject to fresh interpretation. For its revelation of the gradually evolving picture of James Buchanan, as it has been influenced by changing methods of historical scholarship, and as a chronological picture of a state of public opinion which only gradually has permitted objectivity, a roll call of representative historians is of value.

The Southerner who foresaw that “to the South’s overflowing cup would be added the bitter taste of having the history of the war written by Northerners,” for at least fifty years, was not far wrong. A literary historical method which “saw history as primarily the achievements of great men, engaged in the grand manner, in sublime episodes, of political and military strife,” and made to order for the New England, or nationalist, school of historical writers who, until well past the turn of the century, dominated the field. American historical scholarship was, for that matter, still in its infancy. By 1880 there were still only eleven professors of history in the United States. The German seminar and the scientific methods of objective appraisal, which began to be felt in this country during the 1870’s, only gradually influenced these “prosecuting historians.”

Centering their attack on Buchanan’s December 3rd address, and the four eventful months of a “lame-duck” period, they have often contented themselves with easy, if theoretical, post-judgments. The shades of Jackson and Clay have been called to witness that forceful action would have saved the day. At the same time, accepting Seward’s thesis of the “irrepressible conflict,” Buchanan’s critics have clouded the hopes for peaceful settlement and the continuous efforts and proposals toward this end. The fact that these hopes were shared by such contemporary leaders as John Tyler, John Bell, John Floyd, John C. Breckinridge, Stephen A. Douglas, William H. Seward, Thurlow Weed, and many others, as well as by the average citizen, has not always been indicated.

On the basis of a careful study of manuscript and periodical sources which reflect the mood of the times, historian David M. Potter concludes that Lincoln and his party were unaware of the real threat of secession. His discussion of “Lincoln’s Perilous Silence” (pp. 134-55) is based on the fact that from the Cooper Institute speech in February 1860, to the date of his First Inaugural in March 1861, Lincoln made no definitive speeches.”

(James Buchanan and the Crisis of the Union. Frank W. Klingberg. Journal of Southern History, Vol. 9, No. 4, Nov. 1943, pp. 455-474).