Confederate Union

by Alan Sewell

  Emma spurred the horse on faster as she rode toward town. She knew that the Slavers, for all their bluster about Northern lawmen being compelled by the Fugitive Slave Act to help them, were already heading South with Eddie before the sheriffs could be alerted to rescue him. He might be beyond rescue if the Slavers had scouted out a backwoods route that would get them to the Ohio River and into Kentucky before word of the kidnapping filtered into the Abolitionist communities.

  She fought back tears knowing that not every person who lived north of the Ohio River was like the people of Cass County. There were all too many Negro-haters between here and the Ohio who would gleefully assist the slave catchers in returning Eddie to slavery.

  16

  The White House, May 10, 1861

  President Stephen Arnold Douglas took serious aim, but only part of his wad of chewing tobacco found its mark. The rest flew over the spittoon and embedded itself in the thick rug covering the Executive Office of the White House. It was far from being the only tobacco stain on the dark paisley carpet, and it would go unnoticed when it dried. Still, Douglas grimaced and unconsciously looked over his shoulder, an instinct acquired from marriage to a culturally refined wife who abhorred “lower class” habits like tobacco-spitting.

  His wife Adele, a Southern Lady from the North Carolina plantation aristocracy, had managed to work some social refinements on him during the months since he had been elected President. He now took a bath on most days and combed his hair. She saw to it that his suits were tailored to the standards befitting a President and were freshly laundered and pressed. But she hadn’t succeeded entirely to her satisfaction. Besides spitting tobacco he still drank liquor and used colorful language. And he remained a confirmed agnostic unmoved by his wife’s devout Catholic faith.

  Nor had becoming President improved Douglas’ health. All of his forty seven years showed in the lines on his face. The churning of his stomach from a hearty appetite followed by consumption of spirits during after-dinner political discussions rarely allowed him a sound night’s rest.

  Decades of politicking had left his body running in a permanent state of exhaustive nervous energy. Like his predecessors in the White House, he had imagined that the prestige of the office would have a soothing effect by elevating him above the tiresome political fray. And, like those before him, he had discovered upon taking office that being President was nothing at all like he had anticipated.

  Instead of majestically issuing orders to be carried out by his party loyalists in the Congress, he discovered that they expected him to become the servant of their ambitions. He remembered how much he had enjoyed tweaking Presidents when he had been a member of Congress. The institutional rivalry between the President and the Congress was less amusing now that he was on the receiving end. And now as President he was hounded incessantly by every man who was, or pretended to be, a member of his party and now desired an appointment to a post office, customs house, judgeship, or federal marshal’s office.

  Nor did he find as many friends in the press as he might have expected. The Republican-owned papers accused him of “aspiring to become an even more pompous tin pot emperor than Napoleon’s bastard grandson.” The British press ridiculed his promise to enforce the Monroe Doctrine. “An old-time bit of diplomatic rubbish,” they called it. “The English are the great power in the Americas; and no dog of a republic headed by an over-imbibing demagogic President can open its mouth to bark without our good leave.”

  Even those Democratic-owned papers that had editorialized so thunderously for him during the campaign accused him of “shirking his responsibilities” by leaving the (liberation / conquest) of Mexico to the state militias, which were slow to get organized absent a coordinated national effort.

  He knew that controversy sold more newspapers than quiet congeniality did, so he should not take their criticisms personally. But the constant carping stung. Could not the Congress and the newspaper editors hold their tongues for even a year and then judge him by the results of “Confederate Union, United Expansion?” He understood now why presidents aged so quickly in office and seemed so joyous when leaving it.

  And now he had international firebrands to deal with. He was certain that England, France, and Spain would never have issued their Joint Proclamation on Containment of Slavery if the Free States had not emboldened them by ratifying the Cleveland Convention’s resolutions pledging non-support of his Mexican intervention.

  Just yesterday the British Ambassador had lectured him in a condescending tone explaining why Britain supported Napoleon III’s occupation of Mexico. The ambassador told him that the depredations of Mexico’s perpetual civil war were not only an affront to civilization but a threat to global commerce because Mexico’s Isthmus of Tehuantepec would soon become the link between the Atlantic and Pacific. The ambassador reiterated his government’s opposition to slavery, making it clear that Britain would not tolerate intervention by the Americans in Mexico for the purpose of spreading slavery into the country. It was therefore the duty of Europe, not the slave-owning Americans, to restore Mexico’s civil government.

  So Douglas was faced with the most difficult calculation of his political life. His political instinct “told” him that a joint declaration of war by the European powers would unite Americans in all sections in a fury greater than the fury they held against each other. Americans of the Slave States and Free States fighting side-by-side would surely brace a shaky Union just as it had back in 1812.

  Even if the war was unsuccessful the Confederate Union at worst would emerge with its pride ruffled and with perhaps an obligation to pay some nominal reparations. But its territory would remain intact and its people would be united and gritting their teeth for a rematch. Of course Douglas did not intend to be defeated. He, Davis, McClellan, and Secretary of the Navy Caleb Cushing had begun planning for what McClellan called the Transcontinental War.

  McClellan’s war plan called for the Confederate Union to feint toward Mexico with its state-organized militias, while making another call for volunteers in a National Army to be staged along the Ohio River. After drawing the British and French into Mexico with state militias the Confederate Union would turn its national armies on the Ohio northward and roll up British North America from Sarnia to Montreal. In the meantime swarms of Confederate commerce raiders would be sweeping the seas clean of British, French, and Spanish merchant ships.

  The final phase of McClellan’s plan called for the Confederate Union Navy to lay down the keels of ocean-going battleships in the East Coast ports, then sortie into the Caribbean to destroy the combined European fleet. The loss of its ocean-going fleet would render the European Powers’ position in the Americas untenable. The national consciousness would be stirred to envisage a future wherein the whole of the Western Hemisphere would be held under the flag of the Confederate Union.

  Douglas considered what to do. Should he order the Southern state militias to proceed into Mexico as planned, knowing that would provoke a war with the Europeans? Or should he avoid war for the present and wait for the Confederate Union to grow stronger, perhaps taking on the Europeans in two or three years after building up a large professional army and constructing a modern navy? Douglas had planned to make this the primary topic of discussion at today’s Cabinet meeting. He had planned on steering the conversation toward convincing the Cabinet that the time to act was now --- that they should authorize the “liberation” of Mexico by the Southern militias then sort things out with the Europeans.

  It appeared however that something was brewing in Indiana that might preempt the preemption he was planning in Mexico. He had received the first inkling of it from Secretary of War McClellan yesterday evening --- something about an armed clash between a party of slave catchers and a posse of Free State men from Michigan and Indiana. This had to be the first order of business at today’s Cabinet meeting.

  After clearing his mouth of tobacco Douglas greeted the Cabinet members milling about in the Executive Off
ice. All were present except Caleb Cushing who was away inspecting the Brooklyn Navy Yard and Treasury Secretary Howell Cobb who was meeting with the New York City bankers.

  Douglas called them to order, taking his place in a chair at the end of the too-small table while the others crowded their chairs around the table as near as they could get. He called first upon Secretary of War George McClellan, who was holding a sheaf of telegraphed reports from his former business associates in the railroads, and was therefore the most fully informed.

  “Mac, what in the name of holy hell is going on in Indiana?”

  McClellan looked around at the other Cabinet members to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “These reports were telegraphed by Franklin Edson, president of the Louisville, New Albany, and Chicago Railroad. They were reported to him by an engineer who witnessed the events first hand.”

  “I know Frank,” replied Douglas. “He’s a reliable man. What does he report?”

  McClellan grasped the sheaf of telegrams in both hands and summarized them as he read.

  “Mr. Edson’s engineer reported a skirmish between a party of slave catchers and Free State men near Delphi, Indiana --- that’s halfway between Chicago and Indianapolis --- that started the day before yesterday. The engineer was told that the slave party numbering about twenty men had raided the Negro settlements in Cass County, Michigan on Monday morning. They made off with five or six Negroes. However, one of the Negroes got away and alerted the Cass County Sheriff who raised a posse to follow them. On Wednesday afternoon the posse got ahead of the slave party and blocked their route down the Tippecanoe River two miles west of Delphi. The posse stretched a chain across the river. They forced the slave party’s boat ashore and have them surrounded. The two parties have been taking potshots at each other since then.”

  “Anybody hurt?” asked Douglas.

  “A couple of Free State men are reported to have been hit by fire from the slave party. One is reported to have died. No report on casualties in the slave party.”

  McClellan held up another message from his sheaf of telegrams. “This morning Mr. Edson obtained another report from the Chicago stationmaster. The stationmaster reported that Elmer Ellsworth reserved a car for his militiamen yesterday afternoon. At that time the nature of the disturbance in Indiana wasn’t clear. Ellsworth’s men were allowed to board with their equipment including weapons and ammunition. That’s a direct line to Delphi. Ellsworth will be arriving there soon if he hasn’t already.”

  “I knew Ellsworth in Chicago,” replied Douglas. “He’s a hell of a fine military man, but I don’t expect he’ll be on our side in this controversy. We need to dissuade him from doing anything rash.”

  “I know him too,” said McClellan. “I had a pleasant chat with him in New York just before the election. I told him that if this administration was elected we would consider employing him on any special projects that may come up, like the ones I was assigned by Secretary of War Davis during Pierce’s Administration. He certainly is an outstanding young man in every sense of the word. I’ve already sent him a telegram through the Delphi office asking him to return to Chicago. But of course his militia is privately funded and not under our control. Who knows if he received the message or will heed it if he did. I also asked Mr. Edson to order his stationmasters to refuse to board anyone else who wants to go to Delphi unless they have proof of residence in the vicinity. The less people we have there trying to inflame the situation, the quicker we will have it under control.”

  “It was good of you to think of that,” said Douglas. “Let’s hope Ellsworth received the telegram and heeds it.”

  McClellan lifted another telegram. “This one’s from Ohio. Frederick Douglass was in Toledo speaking to an Abolitionist Society when word of the slave raid arrived. He left town yesterday. I think it’s safe to assume he’ll show up in Delphi.”

  Douglas shook his head. “All we need is for that crazy Nigger to go adding fuel to the fire.”

  “He’s not the only crazy one stirring the pot,” McClellan informed him. “This last report is from Alabama. It was originated by one of our officers in transit through Montgomery. He reports: ‘William L. Yancey has contacted Southern newspapers. Claims title to Negroes taken to Indiana. Asks Slave State governors to send help to his men in Delphi.’”

  Douglas furiously spit the last remnant of his tobacco wad, this time not caring a whit whether it landed on the carpet. “Should’ve known Yancey was behind this. He’s bound and determined to embarrass this administration. He’ll never forgive us for quashing him in Charleston.” He looked at Jefferson Davis. “Do you want to try to talk some sense into him?”

  Davis shrugged. “Bill Yancey keeps his own councils. But I’ll be glad to do whatever I can. I can sympathize with his motives in wanting to teach the Abolitionists to comply with the Fugitive Slave Act, but I deplore his methods. They are not the councils of a prudent man.”

  “Glad we’re agreed on that,” declared Douglas. “We can’t tolerate contempt for the law, or contempt for this administration, from any quarter. Is that point clear?”

  All present nodded a firm assent.

  Douglas said to Davis, “Let’s send Yancey a telegram asking him to cease and desist. If that doesn’t calm him you’ll have to get down to Alabama for a palaver. Let Yancey know he’s playing with fire. I’ll send the federal marshals to arrest him if he doesn’t call off his dogs.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” replied Davis. I’m supposed to be leading our militias into Mexico instead of going to Alabama to sweet talk Crazy Bill Yancey.

  Douglas turned to Attorney General Alexander Stephens of Georgia. “Aleck, what’s your legal brief of the incident.”

  Stephens responded with a decisive voice out of character with his frail body of less than a hundred pounds. “If Yancey has obtained legal title to these Negroes then they must be presumed to be runaways subject to the Fugitive Slave Act. However, it appears that Yancey’s men made no attempt to meet the legal requirements of their recovery. They failed to obtain a warrant for the arrest of the Negroes and thereafter to obtain a court order assigning them to the claimant and permitting their removal out of the state. The capture and removal of these Negroes, without court papers, thereby takes on the legal character of kidnapping.”

  Secretary of State Horatio Seymour, a thoughtful New Yorker, joined the discussion. “Yancey has nevertheless succeeded in his intention of putting this administration to the test. He will say that it was not possible to proceed through the courts because Michigan has personal liberty laws that will not permit enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Act. So it devolves upon us to decide whether to employ the Federal Authority either to return these Negroes to slavery or to prosecute Yancey’s men as kidnappers. If we choose the former we will have the Free States against us. If we choose the latter we may inflame the Slave States to rally to Yancey’s Secession standard.”

  “That is surely the result he intended,” agreed Douglas, his face turning red with anger. “He couldn’t break up the Union in Charleston, so now he thinks he can force us to do it for him.”

  “Our correct course, legally and politically, will be to get this case into the federal courts where it belongs,” Stephens advised. “Let the judges decide whether these Negroes should be returned to slavery or set free to return to their homes. We’ll have to be creative in finding a court to adjudicate the case. The federal judges in Michigan won’t hear cases on slave recoveries. They’d set the Negroes free. Maybe there would be a fair hearing in Indiana, which is where the incident is deadlocked at this time. The Administration’s position should be that we don’t care about the outcome, so long as the proceedings are fair.”

  Douglas nodded. “You are right, Aleck. This has to go through the federal courts to have a legitimate outcome.” He folded his hands under his chin and began to think. “Gentlemen, let’s see if we can’t put some flesh around the bones of Aleck’s proposal. First question is: how do we restore
order in Indiana? Do we ask Governor Hendricks to call out the Indiana militia, or do we order the Regular Army to intervene straight away?”

  “This is a Federal issue,” advised Jefferson Davis. “The Regular Army should handle it.”

  Douglas turned to Horatio Seymour, a former Governor of New York. “What do you think, Horatio?”

  “Jeff is right. Send in the Regular Army. Hendricks might err on the side of caution. Most any governor would in these circumstances. This is a Federal issue and needs to be handled by the Federal Authority from start to finish.”

  “What Regular Army units would you recommend deploying into Indiana?” Douglas asked McClellan.

  “General Harney’s Department of the West is headquartered at St. Louis. That’s about twelve hundred men. There’s another three hundred in the independent command at Newport, Kentucky. Harney’s the right man to handle this sort of thing. He’s a decisive commander but intelligent enough to assess the situation when he gets there and respond appropriately to it. If we get him moving now he’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon.”

  Douglas asked his Cabinet: “Is there any reason we shouldn’t order Harney’s command to Delphi? Their orders will be to reach the scene of the disturbance and interpose themselves between the slave catchers and the Abolitionists. They will disarm both groups. They will escort Ellsworth’s men to the next train back to Chicago. They will escort the slave catchers and the captive Negroes to the Federal district courthouse at Indianapolis. Both groups are to be incarcerated pending a court hearing to decide their legal status. Are there any objections to this proposal?”

  Jefferson Davis thought a moment. “No objection to the plan itself, but it depends on bringing the case to a judge in Indy who will give a fair hearing. I don’t know that there is such a judge in that circuit. Why don’t we tell Harney to bring the slave party back to St. Louis and hear the case in the federal court there?”