Slavery and four years of war

by Joseph Warren Keifer

Milroy's command debouched into the Valley of the Shenandoah, already memorable for its many bloody conflicts, and destined to become yet more memorable by reason of still other and far bloodier battles.

This war-stricken valley, from Staunton to the Potomac, was beautiful and rich, and its inhabitants were, prior to the war, proud and boastful; they possessed many slaves to till the soil and for personal servants. It was also a breeding-ground for slaves which, in a more southern market, brought great profit to their owners. Winchester was the home of the Masons and others, distinguished as statesmen and soldiers through all the history of Virginia.

But not all the inhabitants of the Shenandoah valley were disloyal. A majority of its voting population was, before the war actually commenced, in favor of the Union, and its Representatives voted against an Ordinance of Secession. I have seen an address of Philip Williams, Esq., an old, respected, and distinguished lawyer of Winchester, made when the question of Secession was pending, in which he attempted to depict the horrors of the war that would follow an attempt to set up an independent government. He prophesied that the valley would be a battle-ground for the contending hosts; that the fields would be overrun, the crops destroyed, grain and stock confiscated; and the slaves carried off and set free. His address brought him for a time into ridicule. He lived to see his word-picture appear as only a vain, faint representation of the reality. When the war came, and his sons and friends joined the Confederate Army, his sympathies were with the South. He often recurred, however, to his more than fulfilled prophecy. He lived to see the valley for ninety or more miles of its length reek with blood; the houses, whether in city or village, turned into hospitals, and the war-lit fires of burning mills, barns, and grain stacks illuminate the valley and the mountain slopes to the summits of the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies on its east and west. Pen cannot adequately describe the hell of agony, desolation, and despair witnessed in this fertile region in the four years of war; and long before the conflict ended not a human slave was held therein. It, however, has long since, under a new civilization, recovered its wonted prosperity, and no inhabitant thereof, though many are the sons and daughters of slaveholders, desires to again hold slaves. Not all the affluent ante-bellum inhabitants of this valley owned slaves or believed in slavery. Many were Quakers, others Dunkards (or Tunkers), all of whom were, by religious training and conviction, opposed to human slavery, hence opposed to Secession and a slave power. Some of the younger men of Quaker or Dunkard families through compulsion joined the Confederate Army, but the number was small. Though opposed to war, no more loyal Union people could be found anywhere. Their Secession neighbors called them "Tories," and the Quakers descendants of Tories of the Revolution. It was common to hear related the story of the imprisonment at Winchester, under General Washington's order, of certain Quakers of Philadelphia, claimed to have been Tories, who were given a twenty-mile prison- bound limit, and who, when peace came, coveting the rich lands of the valley, and being humiliated over their imprisonment, sent for their families and settled there permanently. Whether or not this story gives the true reason for the early settlement of the Quakers in Virginia, certain it is that they were loyal to the Union that Washington helped to found and opposed to human bondage.

Milroy's enthusiasm over Emancipation was put in practice when he entered Winchester. Without seeing the Proclamation of the President, and without knowing certainly it was issued and made applicable to the Shenandoah Valley district, Milroy issued a proclamation headed, "Freedom to Slaves." This had the effect of causing those within the lines of his command at once to leave their masters. Though the slaves could not read, not one failed during the succeeding night to hear that liberty had been proclaimed, and all, even to the most trusted and faithful personal or house servant, regardless of age, sex, or previous kind treatment, so far as known, asserted their freedom. In some way it had been inculcated into the minds of these people that if they, by word or act, however simple or unimportant it might be, after the Proclamation acquiesced in their previous condition they would again for life become slaves. They probably derived this notion from the Bible story of Hebrew slavery, wherein it is said that after six years' service the slave should become free, save when, preferring slavery, he voluntarily permitted his former master to bore his ears with an awl at the door-post and thus consecrate himself to slavery forever.( 3)

So it turned out that many aristocratic matrons and maidens, reared in luxury and accustomed to the personal service of servants, had to cook their own breakfasts or go hungry, as no amount of persuasion, kind treatment, or promises would induce the former slave to do the least act that by possibility could be construed to be an acquiescence in a previous condition of servitude. Even the assurance of a Union officer could not shake their position. The "Year of Jubilee," of which they had sung in their hearts, had been long coming for them, and there was no use for awls and door-posts for their ears, nor were they going to take chances. Many of them, though offered food for their own use by their masters, would not cook it, lest it might be construed as a recognition of a master's continuing authority over them. Most of them gathered up their little property with marvellous dispatch and presented themselves ready to emigrate. General Milroy used the otherwise empty trains going north for supplies to carry these freed people from the land of their birth to where a slave condition could not overtake them. Most of the knew the story of John Brown, and many of them had, in some way, been supplied with cheap wood-cut pictures of this early champion of their liberty. In some way they had learned also to sing songs of John Brown, and other songs of liberty. When the trains proceeded towards the Potomac freighted with these people they commingled songs of freedom and the religious hymns peculiar to their race with the universal but more cheerful music of the fiddle and banjo.

They were light-hearted and free from care, though abandoning all of home they had ever known, and going whither, for home and protection, they knew not,—all was compensated for with them, if only they were forever free. The prompt emancipation of slaves was exceptional in the Shenandoah Valley, especially at Winchester. Most of these freed people soon found homes and employment, some of the younger men with the army, later as soldiers, and others on farms, or as house servants North, where the war had called away the able-bodied men. It was not until after the war that the great trials of the freedmen came.

It must not be assumed that the slave owners in the Valley were, in war times at least, cruel to their slaves; on the contrary, kindness and indulgence were the rule. This was probably true in ante-war days, save when members of families were sold and separated to be transported to distant parts. I recall no word of censure to the blacks for accepting freedom. Pity was in some cases expressed. Tokens of remembrance were offered and accepted with emotion. Those who had been house or personal servants often evinced feelings of compassion for the pitiable and helpless condition of those whom they had so long served. It must be remembered that, regardless of estates once owned, the war had impoverished the people of this Valley, and but few of them could, even with money, secure enough food, clothing, and help to enable them to live in anything approaching comfort. And the future then had no promise of relief.

The plight of some of the affluent people might well excite sympathy. I remember an excellent Winchester family of four ladies, a mother and three grown daughters, who were educated and accomplished, unused to work, and thus far wholly dependent on their slaves. White or black servants could not, after the Proclamation, be procured for money. These ladies therefore held a consultation to determine what could be done. The mother would not attempt to do what she deemed menial service. The daughters at length decided to work "week about," and in this way each could be a lady two weeks out of three. This plan seemed to operate well, and they soon became quite cheerful over it, and boastful of domestic accomplishments.

Cluseret while on his raid into the Valley brooded over the incident which resulted in his being prevented from taking command of the post at Moorefield, and pretended to believe that I had wronged him. He went so far as to talk freely to officers about the incident, and to declare that if he should meet me again he would shoot me unless I made amends. These threats came to me on my arrival at Winchester, and my friends seemed to apprehend serious consequences. As I always deprecated personal conflicts, and was careful to avoid them, I was somewhat annoyed. I knew little of Cluseret or his character, except that he was an adventurer or soldier of fortune. I announced nothing as to what I should do if he attempted to assault me, but I took pains to carry a revolver with which I purposed, if attacked, to kill him if possible before I received any serious injury. I soon met, saluted, and passed him without receiving and recognition in return except a fierce, vicious stare. After this, on several occasions, I passed him about the camps or on the roads without noticing him, and although his threats were repeated I was not molested by him. Soon the incident and his subsequent conduct led to some trouble between him and Milroy. Milroy placed him in arrest, and he was later ordered from the command. On March 2, 1863, he was permitted to resign, having served as a Brigadier-General of Volunteers from October 11, 1862, and having previously, from March 10, 1862, been a Colonel and acting aide-de-camp. He repaired to New York, and there did some newspaper work in which he assailed President Lincoln and the conduct of the war, and subsequently disappeared. Afterwards he became the Secretary of War of the Commune in Paris, near the close of the Franco-Prussian War. He escaped from Paris at its close, and years later, being pardoned, he returned to France, and is now, I am informed, a Socialist member of the Chamber of Deputies.

There were many such adventurers as Cluseret from foreign countries who received commissions in our volunteer army on account of their supposed military knowledge or experience, who almost without exception proved failures or worse. They were generally domineering, and of a temperament not suited to command the American volunteer soldier. They had, in fact, no affinity with him, and did not gain his confidence. This was not true, however, of General John B. Turchin, the Russian, and perhaps a very few others.