CHAPTER XVII.

Previous

AN EFFORT TO BLACKEN THE CHARACTER OF THE SOUTH—THE PERSECUTION OF MR. DAVIS AS THE SUBSTITUTE FOR THE ASSUMED OFFENSES OF THE SOUTH—REPUTATION OF THE SOUTH FOR HUMANITY—TREATMENT OF PRISONERS OF WAR—EARLY ACTION OF THE CONFEDERATE GOVERNMENT UPON THE SUBJECT—MR. DAVIS’ LETTER TO MR. LINCOLN—THE COBB-WOOL NEGOTIATIONS—PERFIDIOUS CONDUCT OF THE FEDERAL AUTHORITIES—A CARTEL ARRANGED BY GENERALS DIX AND HILL—COMMISSIONER OULD—HIS CORRESPONDENCE WITH THE FEDERAL AGENT OF EXCHANGE—REPEATED PERFIDY OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT—SUSPENSION OF THE CARTEL CAUSED BY THE BAD FAITH OF THE FEDERAL ADMINISTRATION, AND THE SUFFERING WHICH IT CAUSED—EFFORTS OF THE CONFEDERATE AUTHORITIES TO RENEW THE OPERATION OF THE CARTEL—HUMANE OFFER OF COMMISSIONER OULD—JUSTIFICATION OF THE CONFEDERATE AUTHORITIES—GUILT OF THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT—MR. DAVIS’ STATEMENT OF THE MATTER—COLONEL OULD’S LETTER TO MR. ELDRIDGE—NORTHERN STATEMENTS: GENERAL BUTLER, NEW YORK TRIBUNE, ETC.—THE CHARGE OF CRUELTY AGAINST THE SOUTH—A CONTRAST BETWEEN ANDERSONVILLE AND ELMIRA—IMPOVERISHMENT OF THE SOUTH—DISREPUTABLE MEANS EMPLOYED TO AROUSE RESENTMENT OF THE NORTH—THE VINDICATION OF THE SOUTH AND OF MR. DAVIS—HIS STAINLESS CHARACTER, HIS HUMANITY AND FORBEARANCE—AN INQUIRY OF HISTORY.

It is in vain to invoke the admiration of mankind for qualities of greatness, displayed either in the history of a nation or the life of an individual, unless those qualities shall have been adorned by the practice of humanity and the observance of high moral obligation. Since the political fabric of the South has been overthrown, a brave and virtuous people cherish with a more tenacious affection than ever, that honorable reputation which was their birthright, and which they worthily illustrated during the late war. The violent commotion with which the American Union was but lately convulsed has renewed the historical analogy of revolutions, not less in the sequel than in its progress. When the strife of arms was ended, and the two great armies ceased their death struggles, and parted with that mutual respect which is characteristic of brave antagonists, events were far from encouraging the cessation of sectional bitterness which was to be hoped for.

The dominant party at the North, apparently not satisfied with the political overthrow of the South, and the complete extinction of its social system, has followed up the triumphs of the Federal armies with a persistent and implacable war upon the character and reputation of the South. To affix a stigma upon a conquered foe, to brand with infamy a class of their own countrymen—the descendants of the compatriots of Franklin, Hancock, and Adams—and to consign to perpetual obloquy a cause which enlisted the sympathies of five millions of people, are the aims of a malignant and remorseless faction. These are the motives which have instigated the effort to frame an indictment against the Christianity, the morality, and the humanity of the South, and to visit every form of degradation, to practice every refinement of cruelty upon its most distinguished representative.

It is impossible to explain, upon any other theory, the exceptional rigor with which, since the termination of the war, Mr. Davis has been pursued. As the most honored by the South, he has been selected as the proper substitute upon whom to visit the offenses of his people. To convict Jefferson Davis of heinous offenses against humanity is to blacken the cause which he represented—to degrade the people of whom he was the chosen ruler. The North should have been admonished, by previous examples, of the futility of its attempts to prejudge historical questions of such moment. Of what avail were the malignity, the misrepresentation, and the unrelenting vindictiveness of England against Napoleon?

As yet, the North has been unable, even by ex parte evidence, to obtain a pretext for the arraignment of Jefferson Davis for those atrocious crimes of which it was pretended he was guilty. Even perjury has proven inadequate to the invention of material with which to sustain a complicity in guilt, from which his previous character alone should have vindicated him. Who can doubt the inevitable recoil when the investigations of history, unobstructed by prejudice and passion, shall lay bare the facts upon which posterity will render its verdict? History, in such a question, will know neither North nor South, nor will it accept all testimony as truth which comes under the guise of “loyalty,” nor reject as falsehood all upon which has been placed the odium of “disloyalty.”

In this volume, we could not, even if so disposed, avoid reference to that question which so involves the honor and humanity of the South—the extent of her regard, in the conduct of the late war, for those moral obligations which are recognized by all Christian and civilized communities. The course of her enemies has left the South no alternative, and she can not be apprehensive of the result when the record is fairly consulted.

We have now reached, with a due regard for chronological order, a point where naturally arises the subject of the treatment of prisoners, which, in the later months of 1863, assumed its most interesting phase. We approach the subject not with any expectation of enlightenment of the Northern mind. Upon this subject a large portion of the Northern people have resolutely turned their backs upon all statements which do not favor their sectional prejudices. Calumnies are often believed by mere force of iteration; and so persistent has been the effort to poison the Northern mind with falsehood that at least a generation must pass away before the South can expect an impartial hearing. Nevertheless, by grouping together, in these pages, important testimony from various sources, and confined to neither section, we hope to promote, however feebly, the great end of historic truth.

At an early period of the contest, the Confederate Government recognized its obligation to treat prisoners of war with humanity and consideration. Before any action was taken by Congress upon the subject, the executive authorities provided prisoners with proper quarters and barracks, and with rations—the same in quantity and quality as those furnished to the Confederate soldiers who guarded them. The first action of Congress with reference to prisoners was taken on the 21st of May, 1861. Congress then provided that “all prisoners of war taken, whether on land or at sea, during the pending hostilities with the United States, shall be transferred by the captors from time to time, and as often as convenient, to the Department of War; and it shall be the duty of the Secretary of War, with the approval of the President, to issue such instructions to the Quartermaster-General and his subordinates as shall provide for the safe custody and sustenance of prisoners of war; and the rations furnished prisoners of war shall be the same in quantity and quality as those furnished to enlisted men in the army of the Confederacy.” This declared policy of the Confederate authorities was adhered to, not only in the earlier months of the war, when provisions were abundant, but was afterwards pursued as far as possible under the peculiar style of warfare waged by the North. Even amid the losses and privations to which the enemy subjected them, they sought to carry out the humane purpose of this solemn declaration.

The first public announcement by President Davis, with respect to prisoners, was made in a letter to President Lincoln, dated July 6th, 1861. This letter was called forth by the alleged harsh treatment of the crew of the Confederate vessel Savannah, then prisoners in the hands of the enemy. We extract a paragraph of this letter:

“It is the desire of this Government so to conduct the war now existing, as to mitigate its horrors as far as may be possible; and, with this intent, its treatment of the prisoners captured by its forces has been marked by the greatest humanity and leniency consistent with public obligation; some have been permitted to return home on parole, others to remain at large under similar condition within this Confederacy, and all have been furnished with rations for their subsistence, such as are allowed to our own troops. It is only since the news has been received of the treatment of the prisoners taken on the Savannah, that I have been compelled to withdraw these indulgences, and to hold the prisoners taken by us in strict confinement.”

In his message, dated July 20th, 1861, he mentioned this letter, and thus alluded to the expected reply from President Lincoln:

“I earnestly hope this promised reply (which has not yet been received) will convey the assurance that prisoners of war will be treated, in this unhappy contest, with that regard for humanity, which has made such conspicuous progress in the conduct of modern warfare.”

Several months elapsed, after the beginning of hostilities, before the captures on either side were sufficiently numerous to demand much consideration. A proposition was even made in the Confederate Congress, to return the Federal prisoners, taken at the first battle of Manassas, without any formality whatever.

In February, 1862, negotiations occurred between the two governments, with a view to the arrangement of a system of exchange. In these negotiations Generals Howell Cobb and Wool represented their respective Governments. The result was a cartel, by which prisoners of either side should be paroled within ten days after their capture, and delivered on the frontier of their own country. A point of difference was, however, raised, as to a provision requiring each party to pay the expense of transporting their prisoners to the frontier. This difference General Wool reported to the Federal Government, which refused to pay these expenses. At a second interview, March 1st, 1862, this action of the Federal authorities being made known to General Cobb, the latter immediately conceded the point, and proposed to make the cartel conform in all its features to the wishes of General Wool. The latter declined any arrangement, declaring “that his Government had changed his instructions,” and abruptly terminated the negotiations.

The explanation of this conduct was apparent. While the negotiations between Generals Wool and Cobb were pending, Fort Donelson had fallen, reversing the previous state of things, and giving the North an excess of prisoners. These prisoners, instead of being sent South on parole, were carried into the interior of the North, and treated with severity and indignity. Repudiating this agreement, just as soon as it was ascertained that their captures at Donelson placed the South at disadvantage, the Federal authorities foreshadowed that “consistently perfidious conduct,” which President Davis declared to be characteristic of their entire course upon the subject.

It was impossible to bring the Federal Government to any arrangement, until the fortune of war again placed the Confederates in possession of the larger number of prisoners. An immediate consequence of the Confederate successes in the summer of 1862, was the indication of a more accommodating spirit by the enemy. Negotiations between General D. H. Hill, on behalf of the Confederate authorities, and General John A. Dix, on behalf of his Government, resulted in the adoption of a new cartel of a completely satisfactory and humane character. Under this cartel, which continued in operation for twelve months, the Confederate authorities restored to the enemy many thousands of prisoners in excess of those whom they held for exchange, and encampments of the surplus paroled prisoners were established in the United States, where the men were able to receive the comforts and solace of constant communication with their homes and families. In July, 1863, the fortune of war again favored the enemy, and they were enabled to exchange for duty the men previously delivered to them, against those captured and paroled at Vicksburg and Port Hudson. The prisoners taken at Gettysburg, however, remained in their hands, and should have been at once returned to the Confederate lines on parole, to await exchange. Instead of executing a duty imposed by the plainest dictates of justice and good faith, pretexts were instantly sought for holding them in permanent captivity. General orders rapidly succeeded each other from the bureau at Washington, placing new constructions on an agreement which had given rise to no dispute while the Confederates retained the advantage in the number of prisoners. With a disregard of honorable obligations, almost unexampled, the Federal authorities did not hesitate, in addition to retaining the prisoners captured by them, to declare null the paroles given by the prisoners captured by the Confederates in the same series of engagements, and liberated on condition of not again serving until exchanged. They then openly insisted on treating the paroles given by their own soldiers as invalid, and those of Confederate soldiers, given under precisely similar circumstances, as binding. A succession of similar unjust pretensions was maintained in a correspondence tediously prolonged, and every device employed, to cover the disregard of an obligation, which, between belligerent nations, is only to be enforced by a sense of honor.

We have not space sufficient for even a sketch of the protracted correspondence, which ensued between the commissioners of exchange, respecting the suspension of the cartel. In its progress Commissioner Ould triumphantly vindicated the action of the Confederate Government, in every instance meeting in an unanswerable manner, the counter-charges of the Federal authorities. The South can require no better record of its honorable and humane conduct, than is furnished by this correspondence. The Confederate Government was singularly fortunate in the selection of Mr. Ould, who unites to a most honorable and amiable character, an intellect of unusual vigor and astuteness, as was abundantly shown in his conclusive demonstrations of the perfidious conduct of the authorities at Washington.

For twelve months after the date of the cartel (that is, until after the battle of Gettysburg), the Confederates held a considerable excess of prisoners. It has never been alleged, amid all the calumny which has assailed the South, that during this period, the Federal prisoners (unless held on serious charges), were not promptly delivered. Commissioner Ould several times urged the Federal authorities to send increased transportation for their prisoners. On the other hand, numbers of Confederate officers and soldiers were kept in irons and dungeons, in many instances without even having charges preferred against them.

On the 26th July, 1863, Commissioner Ould said in a letter to the Federal Agent of Exchange: “Now that our official connection is being terminated, I say to you in the fear of God—and I appeal to him for the truth of the declaration—that there has been no single moment, from the time we were first brought together in connection with the matter of exchange, to the present hour, during which there has not been an open and notorious violation of the cartel, by your authorities. Officers and men, numbering over hundreds, have been, during your whole connection with the cartel, kept in cruel confinement, sometimes in irons, or doomed to cells, without charges or trial.... The last phase of the enormity, however, exceeds all others. Although you have many thousands of our soldiers now in confinement in your prisons, and especially in that horrible hold of death, Fort Delaware, you have not, for several weeks, sent us any prisoners.... For the first two or three times some sort of an excuse was attempted. None is given at this present arrival. I do not mean to be offensive when I say that effrontery could not give one.”

In reply to these and similar charges by Commissioner Ould, which he, in repeated instances, substantiated by naming the Confederate officers and soldiers thus shamefully treated, the enemy retorted with a charge of similar treatment of Federal prisoners. Yet the prison records of the Confederacy, in no instance, show the detention of prisoners while the cartel was in operation, unless held under grave charges. Commissioner Ould, in his letter of August 1, 1863, effectually silenced this replication. Said he: “You have claimed and exercised the right to retain officers and men indefinitely, not only upon charges actually preferred, but upon mere suspicion. You have now in custody officers who were in confinement when the cartel was framed, and who have since been declared exchanged. Some of them have been tried, but most of them have languished in prison all the weary time without trial or charges. I stand prepared to prove these assertions. This course was pursued, too, in the face not only of notice, but of protest. Do you deny to us the right to detain officers and men for trial upon grave charges, while you claim the right to keep in confinement any who may be the object of your suspicion or special enmity?”

The paroles issued after capture were respected by both parties, until, about the middle of 1863, the Federal authorities declared void the paroles of thousands of their soldiers, who had been sent North by the Confederate Government. At that time, it is noteworthy, the Federal Government had no lists of paroled prisoners to be charged against the Confederacy. The latter had previously discharged all its obligations from its large excess of prisoners, leaving still a large balance in their favor unsatisfied. In this condition of affairs, Commissioner Ould was notified that “exchanges will be confined to such equivalents as are held in confinement on either side.” After such a display of perfidy, no surprise should be occasioned by the subsequent action of the Federal authorities. This announcement, in unmistakable phraseology, meant simply that, as the Confederates had returned equivalents for all paroles held against them, and the Federals held no paroles to be charged against the Confederacy, hereafter no exchange would be made except for men actually in captivity. In other words, having received all the benefits which they could from the observance of the cartel, the Federal Government openly repudiated it, the moment that its operation would favor their antagonists. Commissioner Ould promptly declined the perfidious proposition of the enemy, which would have continued thousands of Confederate soldiers in prison, after their Government had returned all prisoners in their possession, and yet held the paroles of Federal soldiers, largely exceeding in number the Confederate soldiers held captive by the enemy. Subsequently the Federal officers and soldiers, in violation of their paroles, and without being declared exchanged, were ordered back to their commands. Commissioner Ould then very properly declared exchanged an equal number of Confederate officers and men, who had been paroled by the enemy at Vicksburg.

With these transactions ended all exchanges under that provision of the cartel which provided the delivery of prisoners within ten days. All subsequent deliveries of prisoners were made by special agreement. The facts which we have stated, showing the suspension of the cartel to have been occasioned by the bad faith of the Federal Government, are upon record, and can not be disputed. They are accessible to every Northern reader, who may feel disposed to satisfy his judgment, by facts, rather than to foster prejudices based upon the most monstrous falsehoods, ever invented in the interest of fanaticism and hate. The suspension of the cartel was the direct cause of those terrible sufferings which were afterwards endured by the true men of both sides. It led directly to the hardships, the exposure, and hunger of Andersonville, the cruelties of Camp Douglas, the freezing of Confederate soldiers upon the bleak shores of the Northern lakes, and those countless woes which are endured by the occupants of military prisons, even when conducted upon the most humane system. Having been guilty of a shameful violation of faith, the Federal Government persisted in a policy, which was not only cruel to the South, but brought upon the brave men who were fighting its battles, the sufferings which the North has falsely pictured with every conceivable feature of horror and atrocity.

Until the end of the war, the Confederate Government continued its efforts to secure the renewed operations of the cartel—a policy which humanity to its own defenders demanded. Why it was not renewed, the motives which dictated a policy which occasioned an almost unexampled degree of human suffering, is a question abundantly answered in the testimony here adduced, the most conclusive portions of which comes from Northern sources.

In January, 1864, it was plain from the disposition of the enemy that the majority of the prisoners of both sides were doomed to confinement for many weary months, if not until the end of the war. Under this impression, Commissioner Ould wrote the following letter, which was promptly delivered to the Federal Agent of Exchange:

Confederate States of America, War Department,
Richmond, Va., January 24, 1864.

Major-General E. A. Hitchcock, Agent of Exchange

Sir: In view of the present difficulties attending the exchange and release of prisoners, I propose that all such on either side shall be attended by a proper number of their own surgeons, who, under rules to be established, shall be permitted to take charge of their health and comfort. I also propose that these surgeons shall act as commissaries, with power to receive and distribute such contributions of money, food, clothing, and medicines as may be forwarded for the relief of the prisoners. I further propose that these surgeons shall be selected by their own Government, and that they shall have full liberty, at any and all times, through the Agents of Exchange, to make reports not only of their own acts, but of any matters relating to the welfare of the prisoners.

“Respectfully, your obedient servant,
“ROBERT OULD,
Agent of Exchange.”

To this humane proposition no answer was ever made. It is needless to depict the alleviation of misery which its adoption would have secured. Can there be but one interpretation of the motives of those who rejected this noble offer? These propositions are indeed extraordinary, in view of the obloquy heaped upon the Confederate authorities for their alleged indifference to the health and comfort of their prisoners. Most noticeable, however, is the invitation extended to the Federal authorities to investigate, and report to the world, the treatment and condition of Federal soldiers in Southern prisons.

But this is far from completing the evidence which convicts the Federal Government of a purpose to trade upon the sufferings of their prisoners, and thus inflame the resentment of the North during the war, and shows the malignant purpose of a faction to establish a foul libel upon the South in the mind of posterity. On the 10th of August, 1864, Commissioner Ould wrote as follows:

Major John E. Mulford, Assistant Agent of Exchange

Sir: You have several times proposed to me to exchange the prisoners respectively held by the two belligerents, officer for officer, and man for man. The same offer has also been made by other officials having charge of matters connected with the exchange of prisoners. This proposal has heretofore been declined by the Confederate authorities, they insisting upon the terms of the cartel, which required the delivery of the excess on either side upon parole. In view, however, of the very large number of prisoners now held by each party, and the suffering consequent upon their continued confinement, I now consent to the above proposal, and agree to deliver to you the prisoners held in captivity by the Confederate authorities, provided you agree to deliver an equal number of Confederate officers and men. As equal numbers are delivered from time to time, they will be declared exchanged. This proposal is made with the understanding that the officers and men, on both sides, who have been longest in captivity, will be first delivered, where it is practicable. I shall be happy to hear from you as speedily as possible, whether this arrangement can be carried out.

“Respectfully, your obedient servant,
“ROBERT OULD,
Agent of Exchange.”

It will be seen that the Confederate authorities, by this proposition, consented to waive all previous questions, to concede every point to the enemy, that could facilitate the release from captivity of its own soldiers and those of the North. As an inducement to action by the Federal authorities, this letter was accompanied by a statement exhibiting the mortality among the prisoners at Andersonville. Receiving no reply, Commissioner Ould made the same proposition to General Hitchcock, in Washington. The latter making no response, application was made again to Major Mulford, who replied as follows:

Hon. R. Ould, Agent of Exchange

Sir: I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your favor of to-day, requesting answer, etc., to your communication of the 10th inst., on the question of the exchange of prisoners, to which, in reply, I would say, I have no communication on the subject from our authorities, nor am I yet authorized to make any.

“I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

“JOHN E. MULFORD,
Assistant Agent of Exchange.”

Nothing could exceed the generosity of this offer. When it was made, the North had a large excess of prisoners. By this arrangement every Federal soldier would have been released from captivity, while a large surplus of Confederates would have remained in the enemy’s hands. The brutal calculation of the Federal authorities was that an exchange would add so many thousands of muskets to the depleted ranks of the Confederacy, and would, besides, deprive them of every pretext for the manufacture of chapters of “rebel barbarities.”

It was known to the world that the means of subsistence in the South was so reduced—chiefly through the cruel warfare waged by the North—that Confederate soldiers were then subsisting upon a third of a pound of meat, and a pound of indifferent meal or flour each day. Upon such rations, half naked, thousands of them barefooted, Confederate soldiers were exposed to sufferings unexampled in history. How could it be possible, under such circumstances, to prevent suffering among the prisoners? Military prisons, under the most favorable circumstances, are miserable enough, but the Federal prisoners in the South were compelled to endure multiplied and aggravated miseries, imposed by the condition of the South—shared by their captors, and by the women and children of the country which they invaded. But what possible palliation can there be for the guilt of a Government which willfully subjected its defenders to horrors which it so blazoned to the world? Declaring that “rebel pens” were worse than Neapolitan prisons and Austrian dungeons, the Federal authorities yet persistently rejected offers of exchange.

There could be no more forcible presentation of the question than that made by President Davis:

“In the meantime a systematic and concerted effort has been made to quiet the complaints in the United States of those relatives and friends of the prisoners in our hands, who are unable to understand why the cartel is not executed in their favor, by the groundless assertion that we are the parties who refuse compliance. Attempts are also made to shield themselves from the execration excited by their own odious treatment of our officers and soldiers now captive in their hands, by misstatements, such as that the prisoners held by us are deprived of food. To this last accusation the conclusive answer has been made, that, in accordance with our laws and the general orders of the department, the rations of the prisoners are precisely the same, in quantity and quality, as those served out to our own gallant soldiers in the field, and which have been found sufficient to support them in their arduous campaign, while it is not pretended by the enemy that they treat prisoners by the same generous rule. By an indulgence, perhaps unprecedented, we have even allowed the prisoners in our hands to be supplied by their friends at home with comforts not enjoyed by the men who captured them in battle, In contrast to this treatment, the most revolting inhumanity has characterized the conduct of the United States towards prisoners held by them. One prominent fact, which admits no denial nor palliation, must suffice as a test: The officers of our army—natives of southern and semi-tropical climates, and unprepared for the cold of a northern winter—have been conveyed for imprisonment, during the rigors of the present season, to the most northern and exposed situation that could be selected by the enemy. There, beyond the reach of comforts, and often even of news from home and family, exposed to the piercing cold of the northern lakes, they are held by men who can not be ignorant of—even if they do not design—the probable result. How many of our unfortunate friends and comrades, who have passed unscathed through numerous battles, will perish on Johnston’s Island, under the cruel trial to which they are subjected, none but the Omniscient can foretell. That they will endure this barbarous treatment with the same stern fortitude that they have ever evinced in their country’s service, we can not doubt. But who can be found to believe the assertion that it is our refusal to execute the cartel, and not the malignity of the foe, which has caused the infliction of such intolerable cruelty on our own loved and honored defenders?”

Since the war, Commissioner Ould has given testimony of the most conclusive character. While the subject of the treatment of prisoners was pending in Congress, during the past summer, he wrote the following letter. It will be observed that he offers to prove his statements by the testimony of Federal officers.

Washington, July 23, 1867.

To the Editors of the National Intelligencer

“I respectfully request the publication of the following letter, received by me from Colonel Robert Ould, of Richmond. It will be perceived that it fully sustains my statement in the House, with the unimportant exception of the number of prisoners offered to be exchanged, without equivalent, by the Confederate authorities.

“Very respectfully,
“CHARLES A. ELDRIDGE.”

Richmond, July 19, 1867.

Hon. Charles A. Eldridge

My Dear Sir: I have seen your remarks as published. They are substantially correct. Every word that I said to you in Richmond is not only true, but can be proved by Federal officers. I did offer, in August, to deliver the Federal sick and wounded, without requiring equivalents, and urged the necessity of haste in sending for them, as the mortality was terrible. I did offer to deliver from ten to fifteen thousand at Savannah without delay. Although this offer was made in August, transportation was not sent for them until December, and during the interval, the mortality was perhaps at its greatest height. If I had not made the offer, why did the Federal authorities send transportation to Savannah for ten or fifteen thousand men? If I made the offer, based only on equivalents, why did the same transportation carry down for delivery only three thousand men?

“Butler says the offer was made in the fall (according to the newspaper report), and that seven thousand were delivered. The offer was made in August, and they were sent for in December. I then delivered more than thirteen thousand, and would have gone to the fifteen thousand if the Federal transportation had been sufficient. My instructions to my agents were to deliver fifteen thousand sick and wounded, and if that number of that class were not on hand, to make up the number by well men. The offer was made by me in pursuance of instructions from the Confederate Secretary of War. I was ready to keep up the arrangement until every sick and wounded man had been returned.“The three thousand men sent to Savannah by the Federals were in as wretched a condition as any detachment of prisoners ever sent from a Confederate prison.

“All these things are susceptible of proof, and I am much mistaken if I can not prove them by Federal authority. I am quite sure that General Mulford will sustain every allegation here made.

“Yours truly,
“R. OULD.

“P. S.—General Butler’s correspondence is all on one side, as I was instructed, at the date of his letters, to hold no correspondence with him. I corresponded with Mulford or General Hitchcock.

“R. OULD.”

In another letter, written about the same time, Colonel Ould thus invites investigation:

“General Mulford will sustain every thing I have herein written. He is a man of honor and courage, and I do not think will hesitate to tell the truth. I think it would be well for you to make the appeal to him, as it has become a question of veracity.”

But though President Davis and Colonel Ould are known by thousands of people, North and South, to be men of unimpeachable truthfulness, and though no honorable enemy would question their statements, we can not hope that their testimony will make headway against the intolerant prejudices and passions of faction. General B. F. Butler is doubtless sufficiently orthodox, and, besides, his testimony is voluntary. Says this exponent of latter-day “loyalty:”

“The great importance of the question; the fearful responsibility for the many thousands of lives which, by the refusal to exchange, were sacrificed by the most cruel forms of death; from cold, starvation, and pestilence of the prison-pens of Raleigh and Andersonville, being more than all the British soldiers killed in the wars of Napoleon; the anxiety of fathers, brothers, sisters, mothers, wives, to know the exigency which caused this terrible—and perhaps as it may have seemed to them useless and unnecessary—destruction of those dear to them, by horrible deaths, each and all have compelled me to this exposition, so that it may be seen that these lives were spent as a part of the system of attack upon the rebellion, devised by the wisdom of the General-in-Chief of the armies, to destroy it by depletion, depending upon our superior numbers to win the victory at last.

“The loyal mourners will doubtless derive solace from this fact, and appreciate all the more highly the genius which conceived the plan and the success won at so great a cost.”

The New York Tribune will also be accepted as competent authority. Referring to the occurrences of 1864, the Tribune editorially says:

“In August the rebels offered to renew the exchange, man for man. General Grant then telegraphed the following important order: ‘It is hard on our men, held in Southern prisons, not to exchange them, but it is humanity to those left in the ranks to fight our battles. Every man released on parole or otherwise becomes an active soldier against us at once, either directly or indirectly. If we commence a system of exchange which liberates all prisoners taken, we will have to fight on till the whole South is exterminated. If we hold those caught, they amount to no more than dead men. At this particular time, to release all rebel prisoners North would insure Sherman’s defeat, and would compromise our safety here.’”

Here is even a stronger statement from a Northern source:

New York, August 8, 1865.

Moreover, General Butler, in his speech at Lowell, Massachusetts, stated positively that he had been ordered by Mr. Stanton to put forward the negro question to complicate and prevent the exchange.... Every one is aware that, when the exchange did take place, not the slightest alteration had occurred in the question, and that our prisoners might as well have been released twelve or eighteen months before as at the resumption of the cartel, which would have saved to the Republic at least twelve or fifteen thousand heroic lives. That they were not saved is due alone to Mr. Edwin M. Stanton’s peculiar policy and dogged obstinacy; and, as I have remarked before, he is unquestionably the digger of the unnamed graves that crowd the vicinity of every Southern prison with historic and never-to-be-forgotten horrors.

“I regret the revival of this painful subject, but the gratuitous effort of Mr. Dana to relieve the Secretary of War from a responsibility he seems willing to bear, and which merely as a question of policy, independent of all considerations of humanity, must be regarded as of great weight, has compelled me to vindicate myself from the charge of making grave statements without due consideration.

“Once for all, let me declare that I have never found fault with any one because I was detained in prison, for I am well aware that that was a matter in which no one but myself, and possibly a few personal friends, would feel any interest; that my sole motive for impeaching the Secretary of War was that the people of the loyal North might know to whom they were indebted for the cold-blooded and needless sacrifice of their fathers and brothers, their husbands and their sons.

“JUNIUS HENRI BROWNE.”

Now, what is the “inexorable logic” of this train of evidence? Either the calumnies against the South stand self-convicted, or those who have uttered them show themselves to have been worse fiends than they pretend to believe the Confederate authorities to have been.

But can a candid world credit the charge of cruelty against the South? Honorable enemies, even, will scorn the allegation of torture, of designedly inflicting suffering upon helpless men, against a people who, within the past six years, have so honorably illustrated the American name. Brave men are never cruel—cowards only delight in torture of the helpless. Cruelty to prisoners would be inconsistent not only with the known generosity of the Southern character, but with that splendid courage which the North will not dishonor itself by calling in question.

Until the suspension of the cartel, the Federal prisoners, even at the risk of their recapture, were kept in Richmond convenient for exchange. Confederate prisoners, on the other hand, were hurried to the Northern frontier, where the rigor of the climate alone subjected them to the most cruel sufferings. Driven by the course of the Federal Government, respecting the subject of exchange, the Confederate authorities selected a site for the quartering of prisoners, whom it was impossible to subsist in Richmond or its neighborhood. Andersonville was selected, in accordance with an official order contemplating the following objects: “A healthy locality, plenty of pure, good water, a running stream, and, if possible, shade trees, and in the immediate neighborhood of grist and saw-mills.” Such were the “horrors of Andersonville,” which the world has been urged to believe the Confederate Government selected with special view to the torment and death of prisoners.

The terrible mortality among the prisoners at Andersonville was not due either to starvation or to the unhealthiness of the locality. Federal soldiers were unaccustomed to the scanty and indifferent diet upon which the Confederates were fed, and which caused the death of thousands of delicate youths in the Southern armies. By this single fact may be explained much of the mortality at Andersonville. When to scurvy and other fatal forms of disease, produced by inadequate and unwholesome diet, are added the mental sufferings, which are peculiarly the lot of a prisoner, the despondency, and, in the case of the Andersonville prisoners, the despair occasioned by the refusal of their own Government to relieve them, we have abundant explanation of the most shocking mortality.

But the statement that the mortality of Andersonville was in excess of that of all other military prisons, is a willful falsehood. We present the following extracts from a letter to the New York World, by a gentleman, whose integrity will be vouched for by thousands of the best people in Virginia:

PRISON MORTALITY—ANDERSONVILLE AND ELMIRA.

Richmond, Va., August 14.

To the Editor of the World

Sir: I have just seen, in a city paper, a paragraph, credited to the World, alleging that among the Confederate prisoners at Elmira, during the last four or five months of the use of that prison, the deaths only amounted to a few individuals out of many thousand prisoners. I am not able to controvert that fact, as I left there on the 11th of October, 1864; but if the impression desired to be produced is that the general mortality at that pen was slight, I can contradict it from the record. During a portion of the period of my incarceration in the Elmira pen, it was my duty to receive, from the surgeon’s office, each morning, the reports of the deaths of the preceding day, and embody them in an official report, to be signed by the commandant of the prison, and forwarded to the commandant of the post. I entered, each morning, in a diary, which now lies before me, the number of reported deaths; and the facts demonstrate that, in as healthy a location as there is in New York, with every remedial appliance in abundance, with no epidemic, and with a great boast of humanity, the deaths were relatively larger than among the Federal prisoners at Andersonville among a famished people, whose quartermaster could not furnish shelter to its soldiers, and whose surgeons were without the commonest medicines for the sick. The record shows that at Andersonville, between the 1st of February and 1st of August, 1864, out of thirty-six thousand prisoners, six thousand, or one-sixth, died—a fearful rate unquestionably. But the official report of the Elmira pen shows, that during the month of September, 1864, which was the first month after the quota of that prison was made up, out of less than nine thousand five hundred prisoners, the deaths were THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIX. In other words, the average mortality at Andersonville, during that period, was one thirty-sixth of the whole per month, while at Elmira it was one twenty-fifth of the whole. At Elmira it was four per cent.; at Andersonville, less than three per cent....

“Another item, which I gather from my diary, will indicate the manner in which the medical officer at Elmira discharged his functions. The hospitals began to be filled, in the latter part of August, with obstinate cases of scurvy. Men became covered with fearful sores, many lost their teeth, and many others became cripples, and will die cripples from that cause. The commandant of the post ordered a report to be made of all the scorbutic cases in prison, grave and trifling; and on the morning of Sunday, September 11, the lists were added up, when it was found that of nine thousand three hundred prisoners examined, eighteen hundred and seventy were tainted with scurvy.

“The Federal Government, as one of its measures of reconstruction, is officially and expensively engaged in traducing the Southern people, and the facility with which it procures all necessary evidence, whether the object be to hang or to calumniate, warrants the belief that we shall have a couple of volumes a year for the rest of the century, demonstrating the barbarity of the rebels. Against so admirable a system of manufacturing evidence, it is, of course, idle to oppose the feeble efforts of individuals, but I regard the duty none the less binding on such of us as know the truth to declare it; and I hope that, throughout the Southern States, intelligent and credible men are now putting into authentic form, the evidences of Federal outrages, the exploits of the Shermans and Sheridans, and Milroys and Butlers, one day to be published by general subscription of our people, that the world may judge between us and the spoon thieves, the furniture thieves, the barn-burners, the bummers, and the brutes who too often wore the uniform of the Federal army.

“A. M. K.”

Can the North expect impartial history to accept its miserable subterfuge of “disloyalty,” by which such testimony as this is now excluded?

Any reference to this subject must be wholly inadequate which does not describe the condition of the South at the period when she is alleged to have been guilty of unexampled atrocities. The blockade of the South by the North was stringent beyond any precedent in modern warfare. Medicines were held as contraband. Southern hospitals were not supplied, for that reason, with all the medicaments that were needed by sick and wounded soldiers; and those who were prisoners in our hands necessarily shared, in this respect, the privations of the Confederate soldiers. But if there was any thing “cruel and inhuman” in this deficiency, whose fault was it? Of whom is the cruelty and inhumanity to be alleged? The South searched her forests and meadows for restoratives. She ran in medicines, as far as practicable, at great cost and hazard. We shared our stores with our prisoners. If the supply was inadequate or ill-assorted, we again ask, are we to be charged with cruelty and inhumanity?

The same observations are applicable as to supplies of food and clothing. The war was waged, by the North, on the policy of unsparing devastation. Mills were burnt, factories demolished, barns given to the flames, and the means of comfort and of living destroyed on system. What the South was able to save, she shared with her prisoners. We gave them such rations as we gave our own soldiers. Does any one suspect the Confederate Government of deliberately stinting its own soldiers? How, then, can it be pretended that it was “cruel and inhuman” to prisoners whom it fed as well? If we could not maintain them as well as we wished, it was through the success of those who wasted our subsistence, for the purpose of reducing us to that precise condition of inability. It is obviously monstrous to charge the fact, and to charge it as blame, upon us—to accuse the South of “cruelty and inhumanity.”[71]But there is still another revelation to be added to the overwhelming evidence which demonstrates the murderous purpose of the Federal authorities, equally toward their own men and toward Confederate soldiers, by which they adroitly sought to cover the Confederate Government with accusing blood. A marked feature in the policy of the Lincoln cabinet was, at concerted intervals, to inflame the heart of the North by appeals to passion and resentment. The supreme excellence of the Federal administration, in this respect, was, indeed, its substitute for statesmanship. To conceal its own iniquitous course, with reference to the exchange of prisoners, the administration successfully sought to frenzy the Northern masses by the most ingenious misrepresentations of the condition of their men in the Southern prisons.

To this end the foul brood of pictorial falsifiers—the Harpers, Leslies, etc.—gave willing and effective aid. Men in the most horrible conditions of human suffering—ghastly skeletons, creatures demented from sheer misery—a set of wretched, raving, and dying creatures—were photographed, the pictures reduplicated to an unlimited extent, and scattered broadcast over the North, as evidence of the brutality practiced upon Federal prisoners in the South. In view of the well-known and designed influence of these appeals upon Northern sentiment, what must be the scorn of the civilized world for the perfidy which used the means which we here relate, to accomplish its iniquitous ends?

Immediately preceding the return of these prisoners, the Federal Agent applied for the delivery of the worst cases of sick Federal prisoners. Said he: “Even in cases where your surgeons think the men too ill to be moved, and not strong enough to survive the trip, if they express a desire to come, let them come.” At this time, it should be remembered, regular exchanges were intermitted. Commissioner Ould, consistently with his known humanity and the humane disposition of his Government, consented to send the worst cases of their prisoners, provided that they would not be accepted as representatives of the average condition of the Federal prisoners in the South, and used as a means to inflame Northern sentiment. This condition was sacredly pledged.

With this understanding, Commissioner Ould prepared a barge adapted specially to the purpose, and, with the aid of the Richmond Ambulance Committee, carefully and tenderly delivered the prisoners. The Federal vessel that received them sailed immediately to Annapolis, where, instead of receiving the tender treatment that their pitiable condition required, they were made a spectacle of for an obvious purpose. Photographic artists made portraits of them; a committee of Congress was sent to report upon their condition; in short, they had been obtained for a purpose; and, how well that purpose was subserved, the South, at least, well knows. These miserable wrecks of humanity, specially asked for, specially selected as the worst cases, were pointed to as representatives of the average state of Federal prisoners in the South, although the most sacred assurances had been given that they would be used for no such purpose.

History will be searched in vain for such an example of mingled wickedness, perfidy, and cruelty. Yet the faction that could practice such treachery and barbarity has dared to impeach the honor and humanity of the South. Through such means, it, of course, can easily be proven that the South “starved and tortured” thousands of Union prisoners. Nor can Stanton, Holt, and Conover have difficulty in proving that these cruelties were by direct order of President Davis.

Need we pursue this subject further? We have not adduced one-tenth of the evidence which completes the record of Southern justice and humanity, yet what candid mind will deny that this testimony is ample? The vindication of the South, too, is the assured defense of Jefferson Davis. Nay, more: the exceptional victim of Northern malice is known to his countrymen to have a special record of humanity which should have claimed a special consideration from the enemy. Upon no subject was President Davis more censured in the South than for what was termed his “ill-timed tenderness” for the enemy. Stung to madness by the devastations and cruelties attending the invasion of their country, the people often responded to the clamor of the newspapers for retaliation against the harsh measures of the enemy. Before the writer is a Richmond newspaper, of date during the war, in which the leading editorial begins with the assertion that “The chivalry and humanity of Mr. Jefferson Davis will inevitably ruin this Confederacy,” and the editor continues to reproach Mr. Davis for culpable leniency.

To the same alleged cause the Examiner was accustomed to attribute what it described as the “humiliating attitude of the Confederacy.” Said the Examiner: “The enemy have gone from one unmanly cruelty to another, encouraged by their impunity, till they are now, and have for some time, been inflicting on the people of this country the worst horrors of barbarous and uncivilized war.” Yet, in spite of all this, the Examiner alleged, that Mr. Davis, in his dealings with the enemy, was “as gentle as the sucking dove.” The same paper published a “bill of fare” provided for one of the prisons, and invoked the indignation of the country upon a policy which fed the prisoners of the enemy better than the soldiers of the Confederacy.

Never, indeed, did the ruler of an invaded people exhibit such forbearance in the face of so much provocation. When reminded of the relentless warfare of the enemy, which spared neither age, sex, nor condition, of his devastation, rapine and violence, Davis’ invariable reply was: “The crimes of our enemies can not justify us in a disregard of the duties of humanity and Christianity.” There can be little doubt that Mr. Davis occasionally erred in his extreme generosity to the foe. Yet, how noble must be that fame, which is marred only by such a fault. History has canonized Lamartine for preventing the re-raising of the red flag in 1848. What will be its award to the heroic firmness of Jefferson Davis, in preventing the raising of the black flag, among a people, whose dearest rights were assailed, whose homes were destroyed, and themselves subjected to the most ruthless persecutions known in modern warfare?

But apart from the perjured testimony, which has been utterly inadequate to establish the charge of “cruelty to prisoners,” has the time passed, when the honorable character of a people and of an individual can be properly considered? The whole history of the United States does not exhibit a public career more stainless than that of Jefferson Davis, while in the service of the Union. Occupying almost every position of honor and trust, in both houses of Congress, member of the cabinet, and as a gallant soldier, the breath of slander never once tarnished his name. To his incorruptible official and private integrity, to the sincerity of his convictions, and the rectitude and honesty of his intentions, no men could better testify than those Republican Senators, who were, for years, his associates. Indeed, Mr. Davis has been peculiar in his complete exemption from that personal defamation, which is almost a necessity of political life.

But, impartial history will ask, whence come these calumnies against the great, pure, and pious leader of a brave people, in a struggle for liberty? Then must come that inevitable recoil, which shall bring to just judgment, a government, which destroyed the houses and the food of non-combatants; the fruits of the earth and the implements of tillage; which condemned its own defenders to imprisonment and death; which imprisoned without charges, gray-haired men, and doomed them to tortures, which brought them to premature graves; exposed helpless women and children to starvation, by depriving them of their natural protectors; which declared medicines contraband of war, and finally sought, by perjury, to justify cruelty to a helpless captive, because his people, in the midst of starvation, could not adequately feed and nurture the captive soldiers of the enemy.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page