“In the midst of a storm of passion, beating angrily and furiously against the bulwark of States’ rights, when the ambitious and interested partisans who have raised it, attempt madly to ride into power over the ruins of a shattered Constitution; when the bellowing thunder roars on all sides, and the play of the forked lightning serves only to reveal the thick and impenetrable darkness which shrouds our political heavens, no sublimer spectacle can be presented than that of an American President, who, with serene countenance and determined spirit, appears on the arena of bitter and destructive strife, and says, in tones of power to the warring elements: ‘Peace! be still!’ and instantly the storm is hushed. The growling thunder, though its mutterings are still faintly heard, dies out in the distance: The denunciations of defeated partisans, and of fanatical bloodhounds, cease to spread their alarms over the land. The conflicting winds retire to their mountain cave. The clouds enveloping the concave above us break asunder, and a rainbow of varied dyes, which spans the heavens, gives full assurance of a bright and glorious day for our country.”
The rural journals were less glitteringly general: but they fairly represented the prevailing public sentiment. One of the most outspoken said:[[85]]
“The old Tennesseean has shown his blood, and bearded the lion in his lair, ‘The Douglass in his hall’—‘glory enough for one day’—glorious old man, and let the earth ring his praise to the heavens.
The South and the Government are in the same boat one more time, thank the gods! ‘now blow ye winds and crack your cheeks.’ If Black Republicanism wishes to find out whether the South is loyal, there is now a beautiful opportunity. If they wish to prove their false assertion, let them now attempt any seditious move, and they will find every blast from Johnson’s ‘Bugle horn, worth a thousand men;’ and before the notes shall die away in the valleys of the South, a soldier from the South will wave the old banner of the Stars and Stripes on the Northern hills; and though we do not desire them to do this, we defy them to do so. We will see then how they like the fit of their own cap.
States reduced to Territories? Indeed a little move in that direction would be of service, we think, in bringing about a full restoration of harmony between the sections. A little taste of their own medicine.”
And the enthusiastic writer proceeded to declare, that the fair regions held by the Radical vipers were once more in the hands to which they properly belonged; and that the vipers could, therefore, turn their envenomed fangs upon each other, and with their forked tongues hiss their slimy curses into their own hell-torn, shrieking souls; while the South would, as a meteor shot from the electric realms of air, once more sweep across the skies of the glorious old Republic, and spangle its history with the splendors of her truth, her intellect, and her chivalry.
In spite, however, of such strong writing, and the stronger speaking everywhere prevalent, I was convinced during my visits to New Orleans, and Vicksburg, and the trip northward through the interior, which ended my year’s experiences of Southern life, that there was little probability of serious results. Undoubtedly the South would sympathize with the President in any movement against Congress; but it is in no condition to give valuable co-operation. In 1866, as in 1865, the work of reorganization is entirely in the hands of the Government. The South will take—now as at any time since the surrender—whatever it can get.
“I believe in States Rights, of co’se,” said an old gentleman, at Jackson, Mississippi; “but I think my faith is like that described in the Bible: ‘The evidence of things not seen, the substance of things hoped for.’ The person that can see anything of States’ Rights now-a-days, has younger eyes than mine.” The same old man was very bitter against the “infamous scoundrel,” who had written a recent article about the South in the Atlantic Monthly. “There ought to be some law to prevent such libels. You protect individuals against them; why isn’t it more important to protect whole communities?”
All complained of the changed front in the Senate on the Civil Rights Bill. “What business had Dixon to be absent?” exclaimed an officer of Lee’s staff. “What if he was sick? If he had been dead, even, they ought to have carried him there and voted him!”
The attitude of Congress was regarded with alarm. Even the unreflecting masses were beginning to suspect that flattery of the President and abuse of Congress would not be sufficient to carry them through the difficulties that beset their political progress.