by Alan Sewell
“I don’t think that would be wise, Jeff,” Stephens answered. “It would make it look like our administration was an accomplice in kidnapping the Negroes and bringing them into a Slave State jurisdiction. There’ll be an uprising in the North for sure if a Missouri court orders these Negroes returned to slavery.”
“Then we can’t let the case go to Missouri,” agreed Douglas. “We can’t let it go back to Michigan where it will be laughed out of court. That leaves Indiana. The case can be decided there on the simple question of whether the slave catchers have shown proper legal title to claim the Negroes.”
Douglas addressed Stephens. “Aleck, I want you on the next train to Indy. When you get there work with Governor Hendricks to organize an ad hoc judicial committee of federal commissioners. Draft them from the federal marshals we know who will judge the case responsibly. Convene them as a Temporary Emergency Court to hear this case. Instruct them as follows:
“If Yancey’s men produce proof of ownership of these Negroes the court is to issue the documents authorizing their removal from their residences in Michigan and their delivery to Yancey. Harney will escort the slave party and the Negroes to Kentucky.
“If Yancey’s men do not have valid titles the court is to release the Negroes and allow the Abolition party to escort them back to Michigan. If that be the case they must find Yancey’s men guilty of kidnapping. They will give them suspended sentences on condition that they never again set foot in the Free States. Harney’s men will guarantee Yancey’s party safe passage to Kentucky.” Douglas looked at the rest of the Cabinet. “Your thoughts gentlemen?”
“It’s a decisive plan,” Postmaster General Andrew Johnson remarked, “and that’s what’s we need right now. The worst thing we could do is dillydally in indecision. Our dis-Unionist enemies North and South would take that as a signal to advance their schemes.”
Douglas addressed Jefferson Davis. “Jeff, we need to get Yancey out of the country before he stirs up any more trouble. Think you can talk him into accepting the ambassadorship to Great Britain? That will give him something genuinely important to do. Tell him the British are offering to broker a deal whereby Spain will agree to sell us Cuba in return for our acknowledging European hegemony Mexico.”
“Are they really proposing to offer us that swap?” asked Davis.
“How should I know? Tell Yancey to get over there and suggest the idea to Britain’s foreign minister. See if anything comes of it. I should have thought of sending Yancey to England before, but hell, I can’t think of everything. That’s why we’ve got to put all our heads together. We’ve got to be thinking every day how to get this country calmed down and get the people back to the business of being Americans. Now, are we all agreed on this course of action?”
Heads nodded.
“Let’s get this thing in Indiana quashed so we can get back to the business that the people elected us to do. Confederate Union, United Expansion!”
17
Delphi, Indiana, May 10, 1861
As he detrained in Delphi, Elmer Ellsworth felt destined to live the most glorious day of his life. He saw a radiantly beautiful spring morning, everything green and leafy with a deeply hued blue sky overhead. The warm air rising from the ground mingled with a crisp breeze coming down from Lake Michigan. There was the boisterous camaraderie of his fellow volunteer militiamen, the Chicago Zouave Cadets, in their gaudy orange-and-purple uniforms.
All through the night, while the train rolled down from Chicago, they had talked about how they were coming to Delphi to rescue the “kidnapped sons and daughters of Michigan” and then administer a “whupping to the behinds of the slave catchers they’ll never forget.” They talked about how the mere sight of Ellsworth’s splendidly equipped militiamen would overawe the Slavers. After their surrender, Ellsworth would apply a ceremonial “kick in the pants” to each and order them to “Return to the Slave Country from whence you came and never again pollute the Free Soil of the North with your infernal presence.”
Ellsworth was certain that a humiliating surrender here would break the back of the Slave Power. Free State men would never again have to take seriously their blustering threats to leave the Union. Perhaps even their enslaved Negroes would take courage and rise against them. Ellsworth saw himself as the instrument chosen by Providence to liberate the slaves and chastise their masters.
Ellsworth was first off the train. His men came swarming out after him and went to gather their rifles and ammunition from the baggage car. Many of the passengers and those waiting at the station knew of Ellsworth’s militia company and cheered. But for all their military ardor Ellsworth and his men had never fired a shot in anger. Ellsworth expected that the only firing that would done today would be a victory salute after the surrender of the slave catchers and the liberation of their victims.
Ellsworth might have been influenced to caution had he read McClellan’s telegram:
TO ELMER ELLSWORTH ARRIVING DELPHI ON LNAC RR. URGENT. SITUATION EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. PLEASE RETURN CHICAGO. ADMINISTRATION HAS ACTION UNDER ADVISEMENT. SEC OF WAR G MCCLELLAN.
But he didn’t see McClellan’s telegram, its transmission having been delayed by the mechanical failure of the repeater at Fort Wayne. Ellsworth therefore rallied his men to action without delay. “Let’s go restore freedom to the free!” he shouted.
His men roared their approval. Some of the onlookers raised their hats in salute. Ellsworth’s men fell in, marching over the railroad bridge across the Wabash. They marched past the elevated aqueduct of the Wabash and Erie Canal over the river. Those who hadn’t seen it before marveled at the feat of engineering. They marched past the mile and a half of corn fields between the Wabash and the Tippecanoe. They smelled the scent of upturned earth, recently plowed to receive the corn and beans. As they neared the Tippecanoe they began encountering spectators who had set up to be near the “battle” but safely out of the line of fire.
Ellsworth reached the high ground on the banks of the Tippecanoe and looked out over the river. The Free State men had stretched a chain across the river and wrapped it around the birches on either side. The Slavers’ flatboat was run aground on the near bank. Ellsworth saw dozens of Free Staters on both sides of the river, but no sign of the Slavers. He presumed they were hunkered down in the thick brush between the ridge and the river or were in the pilot house of the boat keeping an eye on their captives. He ordered his men to halt while he went ahead to reconnoiter.
When he reached the Free State picket line he introduced himself to the man who seemed to be their commander.
“I’m Sheriff Joe Parker of Cass County, Michigan,” replied the leader. “I’m out of my jurisdiction, of course, but the sheriff here didn’t want to get involved. He said, it’s our people, so it’s up to us to get ‘em, if we want ‘em.”
Ellsworth shook his head in disgust. “I don’t see how any Northern man can shirk his duty to protect free men from being sold back into slavery. I suppose there are still some who don’t think that kidnapping a free Negro is worth getting riled up over.”
“I am honored to make your acquaintance,” said Parker, grasping Ellsworth’s hand with confidence that he would get more cooperation than he had from the local sheriff. “I saw your exhibition in Grand Rapids last July; very impressive. Are you here to help us return the Negroes to freedom?”
“I am indeed, sir,” said Ellsworth. “May I ask what is the situation here?”
Parker removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his head. The sun was high enough to bring out the first trace of humidity from the river. He grimaced with obvious contempt for the slave catchers as he told the story. “The Slavers raided the Negro settlements in Cass County, Michigan on Monday. They made off with five free Negroes, but one of the Negro women got away and alerted me. I sent riders out to every county seat in western Michigan and northern Indiana to warn folks to be on the lookout.”
“A most salutary response,” remarked Ellsworth. “It certainly paid off.
”
“Well, you learn to be prepared for anything if you’ve been sheriff long enough,” Parker answered. “The Slavers tried to throw us off their scent by going to Niles where they had a steamer waiting. They used it to cross over into Indiana, but their captives raised a ruckus when they were being moved into wagons for portage to the Tippecanoe. Somebody figured out what was going on and summoned our friends in St. Joseph County. They’re the ones who got here ahead of the slavers and blocked the river.”
“Thank heavens for that,” said Ellsworth. “Can you imagine how obnoxious those Slavers would have become if they’d gotten away with this? We’d have had slave raiders invading every inch of Free Soil.”
“You’re telling me,” agreed Parker, wiping the sweat off his neck again. “The Slavers think they own this whole damn country. They’ve got to learn that this is Free Soil. If we let them march in here and kidnap free men right out from under our noses we might as well not have any country left that we can call our own. Another thing I’m tired of is this ‘Confederate Union’ that Douglas keeps talking about. What the hell is that all about? What’s wrong with plain old ‘United States?’ It’s almost like they’re ashamed of the country the way it was and are trying to make it into something else.”
“Isn’t that the truth? Well, we’d best put a stop to that nonsense right here and now.” Ellsworth saw movement and pointed to the brushy river banks. “Is that where the Slavers are hiding out?’
“Yes, that’s them. They’re all on our side of the river. One or two are on the boat keeping an eye on the Negroes.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of talking them into surrendering?” Ellsworth asked, suddenly aware that an attack might mean death for some of his men, including him.
“We’ve already tried to reason with them,” Parker replied. “Day before yesterday we offered them safe passage to Kentucky if they would release the Negroes. Got no response to our parleys except for a volley of gunfire later in the day. Tell the truth, it started with one of the Abolitionists on the other bank who had too much to drink and let off a few pistol shots in the air. But the Slavers were aiming to kill us when they returned fire. Three of our men were hit and one has died. My deputy’s one of the wounded. He’s in the doctor’s house with a shattered arm he’s probably going to lose. I think you can understand why we’re not real fond of trying to talk to these animals any longer.”
Ellsworth stiffened on the news that blood had been spilled. Until now he had been thinking that this would be another parade ground exercise. Form the men up, march them forward with bayonets thrusting, and intimidate the Slavers into surrendering. In his mind’s eye he had seen the Slavers surrendering with their heads held down and their arms held high, begging to be released so that they could return home and never cause trouble in these parts again. But hearing of yesterday’s casualties warned him that this would not be a bloodless battle. His gut stiffened.
Ellsworth told Parker, “Military protocol dictates that you, being the first to arrive on the site, are in command. I’m at your disposal. I’d like to propose, however, that we finish this situation now before the Slavers figure out a way to escape. I propose the following plan of attack: my men will break their line with a coup de main. As soon as we get behind them your men attack from the front. Keep your men close enough together to prevent any of the Slavers from escaping around you. Some of us and some of your men may get killed. Are your men prepared to pay the price, if it comes to that?”
“We are,” answered Sheriff Parker. “We know this is a job we have to do ourselves. We sure won’t get any help from President Douglas. Those Negroes are free, by God. They are citizens of the State of Michigan and legal residents of Cass County. I have a sworn duty to protect them. Besides they’re our friends and neighbors. It’s a personal matter of pride for us as well as a matter of principle.”
Ellsworth shook Parker’s hand. He felt the weight of responsibility for the life and death of his men. “Please tell your men to be ready to follow us in ten minutes.”
Ellsworth instructed his men: “Fall in to attack column, three abreast! Load your weapons and fix bayonets! Remember to aim carefully when you fire, then charge in quick to finish them off with the bayonet!”
Ellsworth didn’t waste time second-guessing his decision. The less time the Slavers had to react, the better were his odds of overrunning them with minimum losses. He watched his men prepare their weapons. Some were sweating more profusely than the humidity rising from the river could account for. A few minutes later the thumping of bullets being rammed home and the clinking of bayonets being attached to rifles ceased. He looked over at Parker who was holding his sheriff’s revolver. His men had their assortment of weapons ready. Parker nodded that they were ready. Ellsworth stepped to the head of his column, marched to the top of the embankment, and held his sword high over his head. “F…o…r…w…a…r…d……….c…h…a…r…g…e…!”
Jefferson Buford had twenty men with him down in the brush, hard-bitten veterans of the “bleeding Kansas” violence of the late 1850s. He knew the Free Staters, after losing some of their men in the exchange of fire yesterday, would be out for blood. The only thing to do now was fight.
He hoped that the three of his men he had assigned to follow the boat on horseback had escaped before the Free Staters sprung their trap the day before yesterday. He congratulated himself for having taken that precaution. Hopefully they had reached a telegraph office and alerted Yancey to send help. Perhaps militiamen from the South were hurrying to his rescue at this moment. Or maybe President Douglas had ordered the Regular Army to intervene. If he could break up this attack it would buy him another day’s time to wait and see what developed.
He shouted to his men hiding in the brush to hold their positions, aim carefully, and open fire when he did. Then Ellsworth’s column came charging directly at him, shouting “Hurrah!!!!” with Ellsworth in the lead. Buford was armed with a double barreled shotgun loaded with buck and ball. He stood up, leveled it at Ellsworth’s chest, and pulled the trigger.
Ellsworth lost consciousness before his senses had time to register the blast that tore through his heart and lungs. The blast also took down his flag-bearer just behind him. Buford swung the barrel to the right and pulled the second trigger, blowing a hole in the chest of Ellsworth’s second-in-command.
Several Slavers stood up and fired a volley from their shotguns and pistols into the tight-packed column, dropping another half dozen men. Ellsworth’s remaining men went into a fury. Two of them thrust their bayonets into Buford then stepped back and shot him dead. The Free Staters on the far bank opened up. Their wild firing mostly went high and took down more of Ellsworth’s men and some of Parker’s men who followed them.
Ellsworth’s survivors roared another “Hurrah!” and rushed to the river then wheeled left and right, executing Ellsworth’s plan to take the slavers from the rear. Parker’s men fanned out in front of the slavers while the Free Staters on the far bank kept up an undisciplined fire, seeming not to care whether they hit friend or foe.
The shooting, clubbing, and bayonetting went on for fifteen minutes as Ellsworth’s men and the Free Staters who joined them hunted the Slavers in the brush. Ellsworth’s men discovered that killing other men who were equally determined to kill them was a grueling business. The Slavers, organized by Buford into pairs, shot Ellsworth’s men and the Free Staters who followed them point blank with pistols and shotguns, knocking down several men with each volley then charging the survivors with bowie knives. In a fury, Ellsworth’s men and the Free Staters exterminated the Slavers to the last man, finishing them off with bayonet thrusts and pistol shots to the head. Sheriff Parker and his Cass County deputies reached the grounded boat and killed the two slavers who guarded the Negroes.
In the frenzy Ellsworth’s militia lost twenty-nine of their fifty-five men. Eleven, including Ellsworth, his flag bearer, and his first officer, were dead or dying. A couple more
of the wounded were in bad shape and weren’t likely to live. The Free Staters joining the assault had lost four more of their men killed and seven wounded, including three critically.
Sheriff Parker and his Cass County deputies brought the shackled Negroes out of the boat. Eddie Bates, held shackled and blindfolded in boats and wagons for four days, and terrified out of his wits that he would be murdered at any second, winced at the sunlight, rubbed his aching hands, and involuntarily cried out with joy. “Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy, Praise the Lord that you got here in time to save us.”
“You knew we’d come to get you, Eddie,” said Sheriff Parker. “You didn’t think for one minute we’d abandon our neighbors?” Parker looked over at the dead and wounded men whose blood was trickling into the river. He saw Elmer Ellsworth lying dead on his back, the militia company’s crumpled flag lying over him. He took off his hat and said, “Those men led the charge to save you. Their commander is…was …a young fellow from Chicago named Elmer Ellsworth. Some of our Cass County neighbors were killed too, and some are laid up badly wounded.”
Eddie had tears running down his face. “God bless your souls! I wondered whether they was anybody who cared about what happened to us!”
Emma came up and said, “Of course they cared. Folks in town was getting’ tired of going without their lunches with you not there to run the bakery!”
The men nearby laughed loudly. Even Eddie managed to squeak out a laugh. “Now, isn’t that just like you, Emma, makin’ jokes when people is bein’ saved from slavery!” Then the wind blew the stench of blood and feces from the dead bodies into Eddie’s face. Hungry and dehydrated, and shaking with nervous exhaustion, he collapsed.