by Walter Cisco
Alabama departed the United States on January 11, 1861, but the decision had not been unanimous. A vocal minoritythough appalled by the Republican triumph at the pollsremained unconvinced that Lincoln's election justified such a drastic response. Eleven days after the Alabama Convention voted for secession, a crowd hoisted the Stars and Stripes over the Limestone County courthouse, and a few days later William Lowndes Yancey, author of the Ordinance of Secession, was hanged in effigy in Athens. Over the next few weeks anger cooled. The courthouse flag came down, and citizens met to pledge their allegiance to Alabama, resolving "that we will stand by and sustain her."2
Lincoln's actions as president soon convinced most former Unionists of the necessity for Southern independence, and Athenians did their part to support the Confederate cause. By April 1862 the invaders had overrun northern Alabama, including Athens. Huntsville was captured and became a base of operations. But the occupying forces found themselves continually under attack by Confederate partisans. Army trains were sometimes wrecked, telegraph wires cut, supplies captured or destroyed, and Federal troops fired on from ambush. Maj. Gen. Ormsby M. Mitchel, the Union commander, claimed that these acts were committed by local citizens, people he called "marauding villains" and "plunderers."' It never occurred to the general that he and his men were seen as aggressors and invaders by a people who simply wished to be left alone.
A Federal troop train traveling to Stevenson was fired on in late April. The train stopped, and a Yankee captain by the name of Gates led a squad of men to a nearby house. There were no men at home. One of the soldiers approvingly described what happened next.
While he [Gates] was talking with the women, a Sergeant went up stairs, and piling window curtains and other combustibles on a bed, set them on fire, and came down, closing the door. Soon the smell of fire alarmed the women, but the Captain strove hard to quiet their fears, until it could no longer be concealed, when he quietly remarked, "I guess the house is on fire," and walked away.'
When another army train was shot at a few days later, Col. John Beatty, regimental commander of the Third Ohio Infantry, stopped at the town of Paint Rock and gave the people an ultimatum. He swore that "every time the telegraph wire was cut we would burn a house; every time a train was fired upon we should hang a man; and we would continue doing this until every house was burned and every man hanged between Decatur and Bridgeport." Then, to show them he meant business, the colonel ordered little Paint Rock burned.'
On the first of May, the First Louisiana Cavalry Regiment, though under strength and outnumbered, galloped into Athens, scattering the Yankees and sending them scurrying back toward Huntsville.' Shots were fired from houses at the fleeing Federals.7 Confederate troopers had been given vital intelligence on the occupying force by people in Athens, who then helped chase the enemy away. Mary Fielding, a twentynine-year-old Athens resident, wrote in her diary that "the citizens rejoiced to see them go, & to see our soldiers come in." The liberated townspeople applauded and "cheered for Jeff Davis and the Southern Confederacy," said an Ohio soldier!
The freedom of Athens would be short-lived. The Confederate cavalrymen did not have the numbers needed to hold the town, retreating after they loaded wagons with captured weapons and ammunition.' As Federal troops prepared to leave Huntsville and move on Athens, an excited General Mitchel was heard to say that they should "annihilate" the enemy, hoping they would "not leave a grease spot" or "a post standing." An Illinois captain thought "he intended we should clean things out generally.""'
The man who would accomplish that task was Col. John Basil Turchin, commanding the Eighth Brigade. Born Ivan Vasilievitch Turchaninov forty years earlier in the Cossack region of imperial Russia, he barked orders in a heavy accent. Turchin graduated from military school and entered the army of Nicholas I, where he helped crush a Polish uprising and assisted in suppressing Hungarians. The young officer's views were apparently liberal by Russian standards, and after Alexander 11 came to the throne, seeing little hope of Russia's reform under the new Tsar, Turchin and his wife immigrated to America in 1856. A supporter of the new Republican party, Turchin was given command of the Nineteenth Illinois Infantry Regiment when war came in 1861."
Men of the Eighth Brigade reoccupied Athens on May 2. "Our troops were in an ugly mood," said an Illinois soldier. When convinced that Confederates were indeed gone, Turchin ordered the men to stack arms in the middle of town. "I shut my eyes for two hours," he said to the assembled infantrymen. "I see nothing.""
The business district of Athens was hit first. D. H. Friend's jewelry store was broken open and robbed of three thousand dollars in silver and other valuables. George R. Peck's store was cleaned out, his iron safe broken open, and almost five thousand dollars stolen. The safes in at least two other places of business were also cracked and their contents taken. Everywhere merchandise disappeared-either stolen or simply destroyed. At R. C. David's store, according to a report, troops "destroyed a stock of books, among which was a lot of fine Bibles and Testaments, which were torn, defaced, and kicked about the floor and trampled under foot." At Allen's drugstore "a set of surgical, obstetrical, and dental instruments," along with other stock, was smashed or carried away. John Malone's law office was vandalized.'' A report, hastily compiled by citizens the next day, estimated damages at nearly fifty-five thousand dollars."
One drunken soldier wandered about the town dressed in stolen finery, complete with vest, new boots, stovepipe hat wrapped in a brightly colored ribbon, "and a striped pigeontailed coat far too big for him." All the while he belted out "The Girl I Left Behind Me."
"Everything of value was carried out of dry goods stores, jewelry stores and drug stores," remembered Indiana sergeant George H. Puntenney. "The sacking of Athens has often been condemned," he concluded, but "was about what those Athenian rebels deserved."15
Residential Athens was not spared. At the home of Milly Ann Clayton, troops opened every trunk, drawer, and box, stealing what they wanted and destroying the rest. They threatened to shoot Miss Clayton, calling her "a God damned Liar" and "Bitch" when she told the intruders that she had no weapons. Soldiers then barged into the kitchen, where they attempted to rape a servant girl. Everywhere in town furniture was smashed, pianos chopped to pieces, carpets maliciously ruined, books torn, and clothing scattered. Watches, silver, and jewelry were, of course, stolen. At the Hollingsworth residence, cursing troops fired shots at the house and threatened to burn it, terrifying the pregnant Mrs. Hollingsworth. She lost the child, and she herself died. On the outskirts of town, the home of Charlotte Hine was ransacked for food and valuables. A blue-clad gang then invaded the slaves' quarters and raped a black girl. At the plantation of John Malone, outside of town, troops went to the slaves' quarters and there, too, committed rape. When one black woman dared charge a soldier with the crime, his commanding officer tried to hush it up, commenting, "I would not arrest one of my men on Negro testimony." Theft, vandalism, and assault went on all day and continued for days to come.'
When word of what had happened at Athens reached Maj. Gen. Don Carlos Buell, a man who frowned on atrocities against civilians, he relieved Turchin of brigade command, sending him back to his regiment. Turchin resigned his commission, but Buell refused to accept it. Instead, there would be a courtmartial beginning July 7 and continuing throughout most of the month. The presiding officer was Brig. Gen. James A. Garfield, a future president of the United States." At the beginning of the trial Garfield confessed to being horrified at "the ravages and outrages" committed at Athens, "sacked according to the Muscovite custom."" But as time progressed, Garfield was one of many who came to side with Turchin. "The more lenient we are to secessionists the bolder they become,"" testified Turchin, blaming his own superiors for treating rebels "tenderly and gently." "Until the rebels are made to feel that rebellion is a crime which the government will punish," concluded Garfield privately, "there is no hope of destroying it.""" Still, the facts in the case could not be denied, and the c
ourt found Turchin guilty "of conduct prejudicial to good order and military discipline." He was sentenced to dismissal from the army, though the court recommended clemency.'
Buell wanted to carry out the sentence but did not have the last word in the matter. Just as the court-martial began, Mrs. Nadine Turchin, the colonel's wife, took the train for Washington, D.C. There she met with President Lincoln to plead her husband's case. Colonel Turchin had already been nominated on June 20 for promotion to the rank of brigadier general. In the midst of his court-martial, Turchin's name went to the Senate for confirmation, where he was approved on July 17 by a vote of twenty to eighteen.' In no uncertain terms, Buell had been put in his place. Turchin, with the blessing of Lincoln and his Republican Senate, would return to active duty as a general officer.
The Chicago Tribune enthusiastically defended Turchin during the trial, editorializing that he "has had, from the beginning, the wisest and clearest ideas of any man in the field about the way in which the war should be conducted." In the aftermath of his promotion, the newspaper sponsored a huge demonstration at Chicago's Bryan Hall for the new general. Turchin, a man who had the full confidence of his president, was praised as one "who comprehends the malignant character of the rebellion and who is ready and willing to use all means at his command to put it down."=3
"I don't see any use in trying them for what they did here," concluded Athens diarist Mary Fielding, "twill be done again all over the South where they have the power.""
Chapter 7
"Fleurs du Sud"
New Orleans Under Butler
After defeating forts that guarded the city, on April 25, 1862, Union warships reached New Orleans and Adm. David G. Farragut demanded surrender of the now undefended metropolis. During those negotiations a detachment of marines went ashore, hoisted a United States flag over the mint, and quickly rowed back to their ship. The sight was too much for William B. Mumford. The forty-two-year-old New Orleans resident, described as "a fine-looking man, tall, black bearded," climbed to the roof and ripped down the hated banner. He was assisted by three other men, and to the cheers of the crowd the flag was torn to shreds.'
It had been a gallant gesture, but nothing could now stop the Yankee occupation. Within days U.S. troops garrisoned the city, and on May 1, Maj. Gen. Benjamin F. Butler took charge of the Confederacy's largest city. A native of New Hampshire and long a resident of Massachusetts, Butler owed his rank to politics, having never commanded troops in battle. His first act was to establish martial law, though the elected mayorstripped of authority-would retain his title!
Butler soon commandeered three fine homes for himself and staff.' An Englishman, William Watson, described the general's reign.
To the Custom-house he was driven daily in a splendid carriage, surrounded by a numerous mounted body guard, and with more pomp and display than I have ever seen accorded to a European monarch. He then sat in imperial dignity in his judgment seat ... bedecked with all the feathers and tinsel that could be crowded into a major-general's uniform ... and pronounced sentences according to his undisputed will on the unfortunate wights who were daily brought before him. To see such autocratic power vested in such a man, and the lives and liberties of so many thousands in his hand, and subject to his whim and caprice, seemed to me to be strangely anomalous in a nation which had so long borne the name of being the great seal and home of human liberties."
Maj. Gen. Benjamin F Butler
Another British visitor observed that "the Northern Conqueror is hated cordially by every class of residents."' The women of New Orleans, defiantly loyal to the Confederacy, took every opportunity to express their loathing of the occupying troops.' In retaliation, Butler issued General Order No. 28 on May 15.
As the officers and soldiers of the United States have been subject to repeated insults from the women (calling themselves ladies) of New Orleans, in return for the most scrupulous non-interference and courtesy on our part, it is ordered that thereafter when any female shall, by word, gesture, or movement, insult or show contempt for any officer or soldier of the United States, she shall be regarded and held liable to be treated as a woman of the town plying her avocation.
If Butler's order was meant as a slap in the face to the unconquered women of New Orleans, to many it seemed to imply more than that. Classing these ladies as prostitutes could be construed as license for rape, and a firestorm of criticism ensued. The mayor protested the order and was arrested." Confederate general P. G. T. Beauregard had it read to his troops, exhorting them to "drive back from our soil those infamous invaders of our homes and disturbers of our family ties."" Louisiana governor Thomas 0. Moore issued a proclamation meant to stiffen the resolve of his people."' Even the British prime minister, Lord Palmerston, expressed shock as he condemned the order before Parliament." South Carolina diarist Mary Chesnut referred to Butler as a "hideous crosseyed beast,"" and that was certainly how her countrymen saw him.
The general more than earned the sobriquet "Beast" Butler when he ordered William Mumford put to death for flag desecration. Despite numerous appeals for mercy, including one from the condemned man's sobbing wife Mary, Mumford was hanged in front of the mint on the morning of June 7.13 Butler's supporters insisted that with the execution, "friends of the Union had an assurance that, at length, they were really on the stronger side. Order reigned in Warsaw.""
Butler issued decrees worthy of a czar. Newspapers were strictly censored, some were closed, and one was taken over by the occupiers. Arms were confiscated. Those who refused to swear allegiance to the United States were forced out of business. One man who refused to trade with Union soldiers was arrested, exiled, and had his property confiscated. Eventually Butler branded thousands of Confederate holdouts as "registered enemies" of the Union and forced them into exile. If more than three people met together on the streets of the city they risked arrest. In city schools, Southern teachers were fired and their textbooks banned. One man foolhardy enough to cheer for Jefferson Davis was sentenced to three months at hard labor.'s An elderly doctor was imprisoned for privately criticizing Butler's "Woman Order." Anne Larue was one of several ladies imprisoned on barren Ship Island, off the Mississippi coast, for displaying Confederate flags on their clothing. "The prisons of New Orleans," reported one of Butler's victims, "are crowded with citizens whose highest offense consists in the expressions of opinions and hopes of the success of the Confederate
A case that drew special attention was that of Mrs. Philip Phillips. Wife of a prominent Jewish lawyer and former congressman, and mother of nine children, Eugenia Levy Phillips was a loyal and outspoken Confederate. One described her as "a fiery partisan, possessed of a superior intellect, a sharp tongue, and a decidedly demonstrative manner ... plainly a lady, and a kind-hearted lady too." She had been on her balcony smiling and laughing during a party for the children and failed to notice the funeral procession for a Federal officer passing by on the street below. Arrested for "disrespect," Eugenia Phillips was sentenced by Butler to two years of close confinement on Ship Island. After some months there she was released, though still not allowed to return to her home.'
Butler's edicts even infiltrated the sanctity of the church. The Episcopal Church admonished the faithful to pray for those in civil authority, including the chief executive of the land, and such a prayer was part of their liturgy. For those under Butler's occupation, it was obviously no longer permissible to pray publicly for the president of the Confederate States of America. Nor were the Episcopalians of New Orleans, though now behind enemy lines, willing to pray for the president of the country warring against them. So, when that part of the service was reached, the Reverend Charles Goodrich simply invited members of his congregation to pray silently. Noisily demanding that public prayers be offered for Abraham Lincoln, one out-of-uniform Federal officer rudely ended a service and brought the matter to Butler. The general ordered Reverends Goodrich, W. T. Leacock, and William Fulton arrested and sent to a military prison in New York and ha
d their churches placed under Federal chaplains. When another church burned "accidentally" one windy night, some suspected Butler's involvement."
Though not allowed to openly support the Confederacy, residents of the Southern city did find ways to covertly express their sympathies. New Orleans artist J. B. Guibet created a handsome lithograph he called Fleurs du Sud, which was soon framed and on display in countless homes around the city. The discerning eye could discover in the colorful floral arrangement the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy, though it took Federal authorities months to figure out why the seemingly innocuous print had become so popular.
While quick to punish New Orleanians for supposed infractions of his rule, Butler's discipline of his own men often seemed curiously lax. For example, on June 10, 1862. Cpl. William M. Chinock raped an African-American woman named Mary Ellen De Riley. Found guilty by a military court for the crime of rape, Chinock was reduced from corporal to private and fined forty dollars. In another case, it was determined by the court that Capt. S. Tyler Reed fired his pistol at an African-American boy by the name of William Bird, "hitting said Negro in the eye, destroying the eye." On that same August day the captain shot at, but missed, two other individuals. His sentence? "That Captain S. Tyler Reed be reprimanded by General Butler.""
"Colonel" Andrew Jackson Butler, civilian brother of the general, enjoyed extraordinary business success in New Orleans. "With plenty of capital and credit in his own and his brother's name," wrote one historian, "`Colonel' A.J. Butler led the parade of speculators who gathered like vultures in lower Louisiana." Under the Federal Confiscation Act, property belonging to Confederates-whether personal, real estate, rice, or cotton-was seized and auctioned at a fraction of its true value, reaping tremendous profits for well-placed "investors." Andrew Butler also operated a fleet of nine riverboats engaged in a profitable trade with Confederates behind their lines, under the authority of passes signed by General Butler. "Persons seeking special favors from the general," wrote a Butler biographer, "had a greater likelihood of success if they first spoke to Andrew, who charged a handsome `fee' for discouraging his brother from confiscating their property." It was also understood that those imprisoned might be released if they talked to the colonel and if "the money was right." Though the charge that he personally looted silverware (earning him the nickname "Spoons") may have been untrue, Maj. Gen. Benjamin Butler's dealings in New Orleans netted him an estimated $2,850,000 during his tenure as the city's dictator. Brother Andrew garnered at least $3,000,000 for himself.20