As Mr. Lincoln predicted, and as every reflecting citizen must have known, those who attempted to carry out the doctrine of secession from the United States were obliged to confront its corollary in a proposal to secede from secession. In North Carolina a convention was held to nominate State officers, with the avowed purpose of asserting North Carolina's sovereignty by withdrawing from the Confederacy—on the ground that it had failed in its duties as agent for the sovereign States composing it—and making peace with the United States. The convention was largely attended, and included many of the most intelligent and wealthy men in the State; but the Confederate Government sent an armed force to break up the meeting and imprison the leaders. In the Confederate Congress there were forty members who always voted in a body, in secret session, as Mr. Davis wanted them to. They were commonly known as "the forty thieves." When the war began to look hopeless, a popular movement in favor of peace resulted in the choice of other men to fill their places. But, before their terms expired, a law was passed which made it treason to use language that could be construed as a declaration that any State had a right to secede from the Confederacy. The people of southwestern North Carolina, like those of eastern Tennessee, were mostly small, industrious farmers, without slaves, living in a secluded valley. They knew almost nothing of the political turmoil that distracted the country, and did not wish to take any part in the war. They had voted against disunion, and asked to be exempted from the Confederate conscription law. When this was denied, they petitioned to be expatriated; and when this also was refused, they resorted to such measures as they could to avoid conscription. Thereupon, the Confederate Government sent North Carolina troops to subdue them; and when these were found to fraternize with the people, troops from other States were sent; and when they also failed to do the required work, a brigade of Cherokee Indians was turned into the valley, who committed such atrocities as might have been expected.1
1 See report of a speech by the Hon. C. J. Barlow, of Georgia, delivered in Cooper Institute, New York, October 15, 1864.
There were Unionists also in other parts of North Carolina, and against them the Confederate Government appeared to have a special grudge. Some of them entered the National service by regular enlistment, and when the Confederate force, under General Hoke, captured Plymouth, in April, 1864, some of these loyal North Carolinians were among the garrison. Knowing what would be their fate if captured, they had provided themselves with morphine, and when the Confederate sergeants went through the ranks and picked them out, they secretly swallowed the drug. As soon as it was discovered what they had done, each was placed between two Confederate soldiers, who kept him walking and awake until its effects had passed away, in order that the "traitors," as they were called, might die by hanging, and soon afterward they were hanged.
| EXECUTION OF A PRIVATE SOLDIER FOR DESERTION AND ATTEMPTED COMMUNICATION WITH THE ENEMY. |
There were instances of intolerance and outrage at the North, but they were comparatively few. One of the most notable occurred in Concord, N. H., in August, 1863, where a newspaper that had been loud in its disloyalty was punished by a mob, mainly of newly recruited soldiers, who gutted the office and threw the type into the street. The sheriff's reading of the Riot Act consisted in climbing a lamp-post, extending his right arm, and saying persuasively to the rioters, "Now, boys, I guess you'd better go home."
The most serious charge made by Confederate writers, with sufficient proof, of violation of the laws of war on the part of National troops or commanders, is that which they bring against Gen. David Hunter for his acts in the Shenandoah Valley, when he commanded there in the summer of 1864. Gen. John D. Imboden has made the most dispassionate and apparently honest statement of these that has been published. He says:
"What I write is history—every fact detailed is true, indisputably true, and sustained by evidence, both Confederate and Federal, that no living man can gainsay, and a denial is boldly challenged, with the assurance that I hold the proofs ready for production whenever, wherever, and however required. Perhaps no one now living was in a better position to know, at the time of their occurrence, all the details of these transactions than myself.
"Up to his occupation of Staunton, where his army was so much strengthened by Crook and Averill as to relieve his mind of all apprehension of disaster, his conduct had been soldierly, striking his blows only at armed men. But at Staunton he commenced burning private property, and the passion for house-burning grew upon him, and a new system of warfare was inaugurated that a few weeks afterward culminated in the retaliatory burning of Chambersburg. At Staunton, his incendiary appetite was appeased by the burning of a large woollen mill that gave employment to many poor women and children, and a large steam flouring mill and the railway buildings.
"At the breaking out of the war David S. Creigh, an old man of the highest social position, the father of eleven sons and daughters, beloved by all who knew them for their virtues, and intelligence, resided on his estate, near Lewisburg, in Greenbrier County. His reputation was of the highest order. No man in the large county of Greenbrier was better known or more esteemed; few, if any, had more influence. Besides offices of high public trust in civil life, he was an elder in the Presbyterian church of Lewisburg, one of the largest and most respectable in the synod of Virginia. In the early part of November, 1863, there being a Federal force near Lewisburg, Mr. Creigh, on entering his house one day, found a drunken and dissolute soldier there using the most insulting language to his wife and daughters, and at the same time breaking open trunks and drawers, and helping himself to their contents. At the moment Mr. Creigh entered, the ruffian was attempting to force the trunk of a young lady teacher in the family. Mr. Creigh asked him to desist, stating that it was the property of a lady under his protection. The villain, rising from the trunk, immediately drew a pistol, cocked it, pointed it at Mr. Creigh, and exclaimed: 'Go out of this room. What are you doing here? Bring me the keys.' Mr. Creigh attempted to defend himself and family, but a pistol he tried to use for the purpose snapped at the instant the robber fired at him, the ball grazing his face and burying itself in the wall. They then grappled, struggled into the passage, and tumbled downstairs, the robber on top. They rose, and Mr. Creigh attempted to wrest the pistol from the hands of his adversary, when it was accidentally discharged, and the latter wounded. They struggled into the portico, where the ruffian again shot at Mr. Creigh, when a negro woman who saw it all ran up with an axe in her hand, and begged her master to use it. He took it from her and despatched the robber. After consultation and advice with friends, it was decided to bury the body and say nothing about it.
"The troops left the neighborhood, and did not return till June, 1864, when they were going through to join Hunter. A negro belonging to a neighbor, having heard of the matter, went to their camp and told it. Search was made, the remains found, and Mr. Creigh was arrested. He made a candid statement of the whole matter, and begged to be permitted to introduce witnesses to prove the facts, which was refused, and he was marched off with the army, to be turned over to General Hunter, at Staunton.... Mr. Creigh had no trial, no witnesses, no counsel nor friends present, but was ordered to be hanged like a dog for an act of duty to his helpless wife and daughters.