Baltimore and the Nineteenth of April, 1861: A Study of the War

CHAPTER IX

I have now completed my task; but perhaps it will be expected that I should clearly define my own position. I have no objection to do so.

Both from feeling and on principle I had always been opposed to slavery – the result in part of the teaching and example of my parents, and confirmed by my own reading and observation. In early manhood I became prominent in defending the rights of the free colored people of Maryland. In the year 1846 I was associated with a small number of persons, of whom the Rev. William F. Brand, author of the "Life of Bishop Whittingham," and myself, are the only survivors. The other members of the association were Dr. Richard S. Steuart, for many years President of the Maryland Hospital for the Insane, and himself a slaveholder; Galloway Cheston, a merchant and afterwards President of the Board of Trustees of the Johns Hopkins University; Frederick W. Brune, my brother-in-law and law-partner; and Ramsay McHenry, planter. We were preparing to initiate a movement tending to a gradual emancipation within the State, but the growing hostility between the North and the South rendered the plan wholly impracticable, and it was abandoned.

My opinions, however, did not lead me into sympathy with the abolition party. I knew that slavery had existed almost everywhere in the world, and still existed in some places, and that, whatever might be its character elsewhere, it was not in the Southern States "the sum of all villainy." On the contrary, it had assisted materially in the development of the race. Nowhere else, I believe, had negro slaves been so well treated, on the whole, and had advanced so far in civilization. They had learned the necessity, as well as the habit, of labor; the importance – to some extent at least – of thrift; the essential distinctions between right and wrong, and the inevitable difference to the individual between right-doing and wrong-doing; the duty of obedience to law; and – not least – some conception, dim though it might be, of the inspiring teachings of the Christian religion. They had learned also to cherish a feeling of respect and good will towards the best portion of the white race, to whom they looked up, and whom they imitated.

I refused to enlist in a crusade against slavery, not only on constitutional grounds, but for other reasons. If the slaves were freed and clothed with the right of suffrage, they would be incapable of using it properly. If the suffrage were withheld, they would be subjected to the oppression of the white race without the protection afforded by their masters. Thus I could see no prospect of maintaining harmony without a disastrous change in our form of government such as prevailed after the war, in what is called the period of reconstruction. If there were entire equality, and an intermingling of the two races, it would not, as it seemed to me, be for the benefit of either. I knew how strong are race prejudices, especially when stimulated by competition and interest; how cruelly the foreigners, as they were called, had been treated by the people in California, and the Indians by our people everywhere; and how, in my own city, citizens were for years ruthlessly deprived by the Know-Nothing party of the right of suffrage, some because they were of foreign birth, and some because they were Catholics. The problem of slavery was to me a Gordian knot which I knew not how to untie, and which I dared not attempt to cut with the sword. Such a severance involved the horrors of civil war, with the wickedness and demoralization which were sure to follow.

I was deeply attached to the Union from a feeling imbibed in early childhood and constantly strengthened by knowledge and personal experience. I did not believe in secession as a constitutional right, and in Maryland there was no sufficient ground for revolution. It was clearly for her interest to remain in the Union and to free her slaves. An attempt to secede or to revolt would have been an act of folly which I deprecated, although I did believe that she, in common with the rest of the South, had constitutional rights in regard to slavery which the North was not willing to respect.

It was my opinion that the Confederacy would prove to be a rope of sand. I thought that the seceding States should have been allowed to depart in peace, as General Scott advised, and I believed that afterwards the necessities of the situation and their own interest would induce them to return, severally, perhaps, to the old Union, but with slavery peacefully abolished; for, in the nature of things, I knew that slavery could not last forever.

Whether or not my opinions were sound and my hopes well founded, is now a matter of little importance, even to myself, but they were at least sincere and were not concealed.

There can be no true union in a Republic unless the parts are held together by a feeling of common interest, and also of mutual respect.

That there is a common interest no reasonable person can doubt; but this is not sufficient; and, happily, there is a solid basis for mutual respect also.

I have already stated the grounds on which, from their point of view, the Southern people were justified in their revolt, and even in the midst of the war I recognized what the South is gradually coming to recognize – that the grounds on which the Northern people waged war – love of the Union and hatred of slavery – were also entitled to respect.

I believe that the results achieved – namely, the preservation of the Union and the abolition of slavery – are worth all they have cost.

And yet I feel that I am living in a different land from that in which I was born, and under a different Constitution, and that new perils have arisen sufficient to cause great anxiety. Some of these are the consequences of the war, and some are due to other causes. But every generation must encounter its own trials, and should extract benefit from them if it can. The grave problems growing out of emancipation seem to have found a solution in an improving education of the whole people. Perhaps education is the true means of escape from the other perils to which I have alluded.

Let me state them as they appear to me to exist.

Vast fortunes, which astonish the world, have suddenly been acquired, very many by methods of more than doubtful honesty, while the fortunes themselves are so used as to benefit neither the possessors nor the country.

Republican simplicity has ceased to be a reality, except where it exists as a survival in rural districts, and is hardly now mentioned even as a phrase. It has been superseded by republican luxury and ostentation. The mass of the people, who cannot afford to indulge in either, are sorely tempted to covet both.

The individual man does not rely, as he formerly did, on his own strength and manhood. Organization for a common purpose is resorted to wherever organization is possible. Combinations of capital or of labor, ruled by a few individuals, bestride the land with immense power both for good and evil. In these combinations the individual counts for little, and is but little concerned about his own moral responsibility.

When De Tocqueville, in 1838, wrote his remarkable book on Democracy in America, he expressed his surprise to observe how every public question was submitted to the decision of the people, and that, when the people had decided, the question was settled. Now politicians care little about the opinions of the people, because the people care little about opinions. Bosses have come into existence to ply their vile trade of office-brokerage. Rings are formed in which the bosses are masters and the voters their henchmen. Formerly decent people could not be bought either with money or offices. Political parties have always some honest foundation, but rings are factions like those of Rome in her decline, having no foundation but public plunder.

Communism, socialism, and labor strikes have taken the place of slavery agitation. Many people have come to believe that this is a paternal Government from which they have a right to ask for favors, and not a Republic in which all are equal. Hence States, cities, corporations, individuals, and especially certain favored classes, have no scruple in getting money somehow or other, directly or indirectly, out of the purse of the Nation, as if the Nation had either purse or property which does not belong to the people, for the benefit of the whole people, without favor or partiality towards any.

In many ways there is a dangerous tendency towards the centralization of power in the National Government, with little opposition on the part of the people.

Paper money is held by the Supreme Court to be a lawful substitute for gold and silver coin, partly on the ground that this is the prerogative of European governments.16 This is strange constitutional doctrine to those who were brought up in the school of Marshall, Story, and Chancellor Kent.

The administration of cities has grown more and more extravagant and corrupt, thus leading to the creation of immense debts which oppress the people and threaten to become unmanageable.

The national Congress, instead of faithfully administering its trust, has become reckless and wasteful of the public money.

But, notwithstanding all this, I rejoice to believe that there is a reserve of power in the American people which has never yet failed to redress great wrongs when they have come to be fully recognized and understood.

A striking instance of this is to be found in the temperance movement, which, extreme as it may be in some respects, shows that the conscience of the entire country is aroused on a subject of vast difficulty and importance.

And other auspicious signs exist, the chief of which I think are that a new zeal is manifested in the cause of education; that people of all creeds come together as they never did before to help in good works; that an independent press, bent on enlightening, not deceiving, the people, is making itself heard and respected; and that younger men, who represent the best hopes and aspirations of the time, are pressing forward to take the place of the politicians of a different school, who represent chiefly their own selfish interests, or else a period of hate and discord which has passed away forever.

These considerations give me hope and confidence in the country as it exists to-day.

Baltimore is the place of my birth, of my home, and of my affections. No one could be bound to his native city by ties stronger than mine. Perhaps, in view of the incidents of the past, as detailed in this volume, I may be permitted to express to the good people of Baltimore my sincere and profound gratitude for the generous and unsolicited confidence which, on different occasions, they have reposed in me, and for their good will and kind feeling, which have never been withdrawn during the years, now not a few, which I have spent in their service.

APPENDIX I

The following account of the alleged conspiracy to assassinate Abraham Lincoln on his journey to Baltimore is taken from the "Life of Abraham Lincoln," by Ward H. Lamon, pp. 511-526:

"Whilst Mr. Lincoln, in the midst of his suite and attendants, was being borne in triumph through the streets of Philadelphia, and a countless multitude of people were shouting themselves hoarse, and jostling and crushing each other around his carriage-wheels, Mr. Felton, the President of the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railway, was engaged with a private detective discussing the details of an alleged conspiracy to murder him at Baltimore. Some months before, Mr. Felton, apprehending danger to the bridges along his line, had taken this man into his pay and sent him to Baltimore to spy out and report any plot that might be found for their destruction. Taking with him a couple of other men and a woman, the detective went about his business with the zeal which necessarily marks his peculiar profession. He set up as a stock-broker, under an assumed name, opened an office, and became a vehement secessionist. His agents were instructed to act with the duplicity which such men generally use; to be rabid on the subject of 'Southern Rights'; to suggest all manner of crimes in vindication of them; and if, by these arts, corresponding sentiments should be elicited from their victims, the 'job' might be considered as prospering. Of course they readily found out what everybody else knew – that Maryland was in a state of great alarm; that her people were forming military associations, and that Governor Hicks was doing his utmost to furnish them with arms, on condition that the arms, in case of need, should be turned against the Federal Government. Whether they detected any plan to burn bridges or not, the chief detective does not relate; but it appears that he soon deserted that inquiry and got, or pretended to get, upon a scent that promised a heavier reward. Being intensely ambitious to shine in the professional way, and something of a politician besides, it struck him that it would be a particularly fine thing to discover a dreadful plot to assassinate the President-elect, and he discovered it accordingly. It was easy to get that far; to furnish tangible proofs of an imaginary conspiracy was a more difficult matter. But Baltimore was seething with political excitement; numerous strangers from the far South crowded its hotels and boarding-houses; great numbers of mechanics and laborers out of employment encumbered its streets; and everywhere politicians, merchants, mechanics, laborers and loafers were engaged in heated discussions about the anticipated war, and the probability of Northern troops being marched through Maryland to slaughter and pillage beyond the Potomac. It would seem like an easy thing to beguile a few individuals of this angry and excited multitude into the expression of some criminal desire; and the opportunity was not wholly lost, although the limited success of the detective under such favorable circumstances is absolutely wonderful. He put his 'shadows' upon several persons whom it suited his pleasure to suspect, and the 'shadows' pursued their work with the keen zest and the cool treachery of their kind. They reported daily to their chief in writing, as he reported in turn to his employer. These documents are neither edifying nor useful: they prove nothing but the baseness of the vocation which gave them existence. They were furnished to Mr. Herndon in full, under the impression that partisan feeling had extinguished in him the love of truth and the obligations of candor, as it had in many writers who preceded him on the same subject-matter. They have been carefully and thoroughly read, analyzed, examined and compared, with an earnest and conscientious desire to discover the truth, if, perchance, any trace of truth might be in them. The process of investigation began with a strong bias in favor of the conclusion at which the detective had arrived. For ten years the author implicitly believed in the reality of the atrocious plot which these spies were supposed to have detected and thwarted; and for ten years he had pleased himself with the reflection that he also had done something to defeat the bloody purpose of the assassins. It was a conviction which could scarcely have been overthrown by evidence less powerful than the detective's weak and contradictory account of his own case. In that account there is literally nothing to sustain the accusation, and much to rebut it. It is perfectly manifest that there was no conspiracy – no conspiracy of a hundred, of fifty, of twenty, of three – no definite purpose in the heart of even one man to murder Mr. Lincoln at Baltimore.

"The reports are all in the form of personal narratives, and for the most relate when the spies went to bed, when they rose, where they ate, what saloons and brothels they visited, and what blackguards they met and 'drinked' with. One of them shadowed a loud-mouthed drinking fellow named Luckett, and another, a poor scapegrace and braggart named Hilliard. These wretches 'drinked' and talked a great deal, hung about bars, haunted disreputable houses, were constantly half drunk, and easily excited to use big and threatening words by the faithless protestations and cunning management of the spies. Thus Hilliard was made to say that he thought a man who should act the part of Brutus in these times would deserve well of his country; and Luckett was induced to declare that he knew a man who would kill Lincoln. At length the great arch-conspirator – the Brutus, the Orsini of the New World, to whom Luckett and Hilliard, the 'national volunteers,' and all such, were as mere puppets – condescended to reveal himself in the most obliging and confiding manner. He made no mystery of his cruel and desperate scheme. He did not guard it as a dangerous secret, or choose his confidants with the circumspection which political criminals, and especially assassins, have generally thought proper to observe. Very many persons knew what he was about, and levied on their friends for small sums – five, ten and twenty dollars – to further the Captain's plan. Even Luckett was deep enough in the awful plot to raise money for it; and when he took one of the spies to a public bar-room and introduced him to the 'Captain,' the latter sat down and talked it all over without the slightest reserve. When was there ever before such a loud-mouthed conspirator, such a trustful and innocent assassin! His name was Ferrandini, his occupation that of a barber, his place of business beneath Barnum's Hotel, where the sign of the bloodthirsty villain still invites the unsuspecting public to come in for a shave.

"'Mr. Luckett,' so the spy relates, 'said that he was not going home this evening; and if I would meet him at Barr's saloon, on South street, he would introduce me to Ferrandini. This was unexpected to me; but I determined to take the chances, and agreed to meet Mr. Luckett at the place named at 7 P. M. Mr. Luckett left about 2.30 P. M., and I went to dinner.