Secrets of the Late Rebellion, Now Revealed for the First Time

by Jacob R. Freese

IN THE BACKGROUND.

SINCE the war, we have seen, and had long conversations with, a reverend doctor, whom we had known for many years previous to the war, who resided in Virginia when the war commenced, was among the first to take part in it, and who continued in the service until the war closed. We have also met other Confederate officers since the war, some of whom had extraordinary facilities for obtaining information while the war continued. From all these we learned much beyond anything we had ever known before, or ever seen in newspapers or books. To put on record some of the things so learned is the object of the present chapter.

The South well knew, in the very beginning of the contest, that in point of numbers, in wealth, and in material resources, it was greatly inferior to the North. They had hope, however, of dividing the North, or, rather, of having the North divide against itself; and had the one-hundredth part of the promises made them by Northern men been kept, there would indeed have been a division of force, as well as a division of political sentiment, in the North; and the result of such division might have given the final victory to the Confederacy, instead of to the Union cause. But what the South relied upon still more, was assistance from England. They had been led to believe that King Cotton was almost, if not quite, as powerful in England as Queen Victoria, and they had laid the "flattering unction to their souls" that so soon as King Cotton saw those who had made him king in distress, he would rush, pell-mell, to their rescue; scatter the Yankee blockading squadrons to the winds; throw open all the Southern ports; bring men, ammunition, clothing, and provisions to exchange for their cotton, and thus, beyond any reasonable doubt, insure success to the Southern cause.

As well assured as they felt of all this, they still regarded it as important to keep all the while the "best foot foremost;" to keep up an appearance of strength, however weak they might be; to keep up a show of independence, however much they might be hoping and praying for help. Like as an expectant bride, though she has the plighted faith of her lover, will continue to smile, to dress, to allure in every way she can, up to the very hour of the marriage ceremony, so the South continued to smile, to dress, to allure, in every way she could, her Northern allies, who had solemnly plighted their faith to her, and her English sympathizers, whose pecuniary interests lay all in that direction, and these things she continued to do up to the very moment when the Confederacy collapsed, and when it was found that nothing was left of the egg but the shell. As our reverend friend said to us, over and over again, and as other Confederate officers have said to us, over and over again, "none but those within the lines, and behind the scenes, knew of the destitution, of the suffering, of the heart-aches, of the skeletons within closets while those who held the keys were smiling as if they were full of good things, of the turns and shifts which not only the army but which almost every family in the South had to make, in order to preserve life, and yet keep up a fair outside show, during those four terrible years of war." And now for the illustrations—little or none of which has ever before been published.

After the first year of the war, so much in want of food was the Confederate army at times, that, in one instance, an officer, with an escort, travelled sixty miles before he could purchase food enough to load one six-mule wagon which he had with him. Even then they had to go within the Union lines, and run very great risk of being captured.

The same officer from whom we learned the above incident, also told us that, on one occasion, he and the men with him were so ravenous from hunger that he shot an old sow that had had a large litter of pigs only the day before, and that while he and his fellow officers ate the meat (if meat it could be called) of the old sow, his men ate not only the one-day-old pigs, but even the very entrails of the mother.

On another occasion this same officer shot an opossum that had just been having its young, and while, under ordinary circumstances, he could no more have eaten its flesh than he could have eaten a viper, yet such was his hunger at the time that the dish seemed palatable. Often, he said, he had gone for a whole day, and occasionally two or three days at a time, without one "square meal;" and this he knew to be an ordinary experience among officers of the Confederate army, especially during the last year of the war, and largely so during the two or three last years of the war. Certainly, if there was an officer in that army who had opportunities to live on the "fat of the land," he was one of them, and if he suffered thus, God only knows what must have been the sufferings of others!

Early in the war, coffee became scarce, and, during the last year or two, hardly to be had at all within the lines of the Confederacy. To procure it, all manner of devices were resorted to. On one occasion, when two sentinels were within calling distance of each other—one on either side of an intervening deep ravine—a Confederate officer present told his sentinel to ask the Union sentinel whether his company had any coffee which they would exchange for tobacco. The Union sentinel inquired of his captain, and after a time hallooed back that they had of their company rations a bag of coffee left over, which they would exchange for tobacco, provided they could make a good trade. The Confederate officer instructed his sentinel to reply that they would give twenty-five boxes of plug tobacco for one bag of coffee. The offer was accepted, and as soon after as the coffee and the tobacco could be brought to the spot, the Union sentinel rolled down the bag of coffee, the Confederate sentinel rolled down the twenty-five boxes of tobacco, to the foot of the ravine, when, with assistants, each took away the article traded for—hostilities being suspended meanwhile. Each of the parties was highly pleased with the trade. Before the war one or two boxes of tobacco would have brought in the New York market as much, if not more, than one bag of coffee.

Pins and needles became so scarce in the Confederacy that at least one man—a Mr. Webster Sly, of Charles County, Md., brother to a celebrated doctor in that vicinity—made quite a fortune by smuggling trunks full of these articles across the Union lines and selling them within the Confederate lines.

As early as 1863, one of our informants saw dogs in the streets of Charleston so emaciated that they could scarcely walk, and at one time saw one of these animals leaning against a fence and chewing upon an old shoe. In that city and in Richmond he knew of families who had once been wealthy that were, during the war, compelled to sell not only their clothing, but even their beds, to procure food to live upon. Our reverend friend himself, though at one time the owner of a handsome house and of slaves, had, while at Petersburg, been compelled to live, with his wife and daughter, in a garret, and upon food that a dog would scarcely have eaten under ordinary circumstances.