Chapter III

JUDGE RUFFIN--HIS HISTORY--HIS CHARACTER--HIS SERVICES--GENERAL COUCH'S OUTRAGES AFTER PEACE HAD BEEN DECLARED--GENERAL SHERMAN'S OUTRAGES--HIS UNBLUSHING OFFICIAL REPORT.--"ARMY CORRESPONDENTS"--SHERMAN IN FAYETTEVILLE--CORNWALLIS IN FAYETTEVILLE--COINCIDENCES OF PLANS--CONTRASTS IN MODES--THE NEGRO SUFFERS--TROOPS CONCENTRATING UNDER GENERAL JOHNSTON.

In the first week of May, 1865, _after_ the final surrender of General Johnston's army, and _after_ General Grant's proclamation of protection to private property, Major-General Couch, with a detachment of some twelve or fourteen thousand infantry, passing up the main road from Raleigh to Greensboro, encamped on a noble plantation, beautifully situated on both sides of the Haw river, in Alamance county. Of the venerable owner of this plantation I might be pardoned if I were to give more than a cursory notice; for, as a representative North-Carolinian, and identified for nearly fifty years with all that is best in her annals and brightest in her reputation at home and abroad, no citizen in the State is regarded with more pride and veneration than Judge RUFFIN. His claims to such distinction, however, are not to be fairly exhibited within the limits of such a sketch as this, though a reference to his public services will have a significant value in my present connection.

Judge Ruffin was born in 1786, graduated at Princeton in 1806, was admitted to the bar in 1808, and from the year 1813, when he first represented Hillsboro in the House of Commons, to the present time, he has been prominently before the people of our State, holding the highest offices within her gift with a reputation for learning, ability, and integrity unsurpassed in our judicial annals. In the year 1852, after forty-five years of brilliant professional life, he resigned the Chief-Justiceship, and, amid the applause and regret of all classes of his fellow-citizens, retired to the quiet enjoyment of an ample estate acquired by his own eminent labors, and to the society of a numerous and interesting family.

The judicial ermine which Judge Ruffin had worn for so many years not only shielded him from, but absolutely forbade, all active participation in party politics. He was, however, no uninterested observer of the current of events. He had been warmly opposed to nullification in 1832, and was no believer in the rights of peaceable secession in 1860. In private circles, he combated both heresies with all that "inexorable logic" which the London _Times_ declared to be characteristic of his judicial opinions on the law of master and slave. He regarded the "sacred right of revolution" as the remedy for the redress of insupportable grievances only. His opinions on these subjects were well known, when, in 1861, he was unexpectedly summoned by the Legislature to the head of the able delegation sent by the State to the Peace Convention at Washington. The reference to his course there, in the first of these sketches, renders it unnecessary to say more at present. Eminent statesmen, now in high position in the national councils, can testify to his zealous and unremitting labors in that Convention to preserve and perpetuate the union of the States; and none, doubtless, will do so more cordially than the venerable military chieftain[3] who, sixty years ago, was his friend and fellow-student in the office of an eminent lawyer in Petersburgh.

Judge Ruffin returned home, dispirited and discouraged by the temper displayed in the Convention, and still more by the proceedings of Congress. He still cherished hopes of reconciliation, however, when, without any canvass by or for him, he was elected to the Convention which, on the twentieth of May, 1861, adopted, by a unanimous vote, the Ordinance of Secession.

Having given that vote, he was not the man to shrink from the responsibilities it involved. In common with every other respectable citizen in the State, he felt it his duty to encourage and animate our soldiers, and to contribute liberally to their support and that of their families at home. His sons who were able to bear arms were in the battle-field, and his family endured all the privations, and practiced all the self-denial common to our people; cheerfully dispensing with the luxuries of life, and laboring assiduously for the relief of the army and the needy around them.

Toward this most eminent and venerable citizen, whose name added weight to the dignity and influence of the whole country, what was the policy of Major-General Couch, encamped on his grounds, in the pleasant month of May? The plantation had already suffered from the depredations of Major-General Wheeler's cavalry of the Confederate army in its hurried transit; but it was reserved for General Couch to give it the finishing touch. In a few words, ten miles of fencing were burned up, from one end of it to the other; not an ear of corn, not a sheaf of wheat, not a bundle of fodder was left; the army wagons were driven into the cultivated fields and orchards and meadows, and fires were made under the fruit-trees; the sheep and hogs were shot down and left to rot on the ground, and several thousand horses and cattle were turned in on the wheat crops, then just heading. All the horses, seventeen in number, were carried off, and all the stock. An application for protection, and remonstrance against wanton damage, were met with indifference and contempt.

Such being the course of one of General Sherman's subaltern officers in time of peace, it is natural to turn to General Sherman himself, and inquire what was the example set by him in the progress of "the great march." He speaks for himself, and history will yet deliver an impartial verdict on such a summing up:

"We consumed the corn and fodder in the region of country thirty miles on either side of a line from Atlanta to Savannah; also the sweet potatoes, hogs, sheep, and poultry, and carried off more than ten thousand horses and mules. I estimate the damage done to the State of Georgia at one hundred million dollars; at least twenty million dollars of which inured to our advantage, and the remainder was simple waste and destruction." (Official Report.)

Simple people, who understand nothing of military necessities, must be permitted to stand aghast at such a recital, and ask why was this? To what end? What far-sighted policy dictated such wholesale havoc? Lord Cornwallis--a foreigner--acting as a representative of the _mother_ country, seeking to reclaim her alienated children, we have seen everywhere anxious to conciliate, generously active to spare the country as much as possible, to preserve it for the interests of the mother country, and enforcing strict discipline in his army for the benefit of the service. What changes have been effected in the _morale_ of war by nearly a century of Christian progress and civilization since Lord Cornwallis's day? An army, in the middle of the nineteenth century, acting as the representative of _sister States_, seeking to reclaim "wayward sisters"--an army enlisted with the most extraordinary and emphatic avowals of purely philanthropic motives that the world has ever heard--an army marching through what it professes to consider AS ITS OWN COUNTRY--this army leaves a waste and burning track behind it of sixty miles' width!

"O bloodiest picture in the book of Time! Sarmatia fell unwept, without a crime; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe! Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career."

The gay and airy pen-and-ink sketches, furnished to the Northern press by "our own army correspondents," of the exploits of bummers, the jocular descriptions of treasure-seekers, the triumphant records of fire, famine, and slaughter, served up with elegant illustrations--wood-cuts in Harper's best style--and, if likely to be a trifle too glaring for even radical sensibilities, toned down and made to assume an air of retributive justice by a timely allusion to the "wretched slaves"--these interesting reports, piquant and gayly-colored and suggestive though they were, were yet dull and tame and faded in comparison with the dismal reality. And all this "waste and destruction," it will be the verdict of posterity, even the calmed sense of the present generation will agree, was wholly uncalled for, wholly unnecessary, contributed in no way to the prosperous and speedy termination of the war, but added materially to the losses by the war of the General Government, lit up the fires of hatred in many a hitherto loyal Southern breast, brutalized and demoralized the whole Federal army, and was in short inexcusable in every aspect except upon the determination to exterminate the Southern people. We knew that there were men in the Church and in the State who openly avowed such aspirations; but as to the great body of the sober, intelligent, and conscientious Northern people, we do them the justice to believe that when the history of the war _at the South_ comes to be truthfully written, they will receive its records with incredulity; and when belief is compelled, will turn from them shuddering.

The smoke of burning Columbia, and of the fair villages and countless plantations that lay in the route, where, for hundreds of miles, many a house was left blazing, and not a panel of fence was to be seen, rolled slowly up our sky; and panic-stricken refugees, homeless and penniless, brought every day fresh tales of havoc and ruin. By the eleventh of March, General Sherman was in possession of Fayetteville, in our own State.

The coïncidences in the plan, and the contrasts in the mode of conducting the campaigns of Lord Cornwallis and General Sherman, are striking, and suggestive to the student of history. Cornwallis hesitated whether to strike North-Carolina in the heart of the whig settlements--between the Yadkin and the Catawba--or enter among his friends between the Pedee and Cape Fear, and ultimately decided to accomplish both purposes. In January, 1781, Sir James Henry Craig captured Wilmington, and on the nineteenth of February, Lord Cornwallis forced the passage of the Catawba at Beattie's Ford. General Schofield had possession of Wilmington when General Sherman, making _a feint_ at Charlotte, captured Fayetteville.

In Lord Cornwallis's progress through Carolina he met with every thing to exasperate him in the conduct of the people. On his first entrance into Charlotte, September, 1780, the whole British army was actually held at bay for half an hour by a body of about one hundred and fifty militia, and a few volunteers, commanded by Major Joseph Graham, posted behind the court-house and houses, and commanded by Colonel Davie, who was "determined to give his lordship an earnest of what he might expect in the State." Three separate charges of the British Legion were repulsed by this handful of devoted men, who retired at last on being flanked by the infantry, in perfect order, with but a loss of eleven killed and wounded, while the British admitted a loss of forty-three killed and wounded. "When the Legion was afterward reproached for cowardice in suffering such a check from so small a detail of militia, they excused themselves by saying that the confidence with which the Americans behaved made them apprehend an ambuscade, for surely nothing of that sort was to be expected in an open village at mid-day." I have by me as I write, in Colonel Davie's own handwriting, his account of "the affair at Charlotte," as he modestly styles it, and it is well worth comparing with Tarleton's and Stedman's report of the same. A more brilliant and audacious exploit was not performed during the whole Revolutionary war. A series of such annoyances, heading and dogging the British army at every step all through that country, gained for Charlotte the well-earned and enviable _sobriquet_ of "The Hornets' Nest," and the commander-in-chief paid the whole region the compliment of declaring that "Mecklenburg and Rowan were the two most rebellious counties in America."

Yet Cornwallis burned no houses here--plundered no plantations. His aim was very apparently to conciliate if possible, to teach the people to look to him for protection and a good government. To be sure, he had not enjoyed the benefit of a West-Point military training--he was evidently in profound ignorance of the advantages to be derived from the principle of "smashing things generally," as he passed along; but he was, nevertheless, (perhaps in consequence,) a _gentleman_, and an accomplished statesman, as well as a consummate soldier. He well knew--

"----who overcomes
By force, hath overcome but half his foe."

As to Fayetteville, and her lot in these later days, no such slight sketch as this will suffice for the story. Perhaps no town in the South had surpassed her in the ardor and liberality with which (after secession had become the law of the State) she supported the war. She gave her bravest sons; her best blood was poured out like water in the cause of the South, and then she gave of her substance. The grace of giving had surely been bestowed upon the people of Cumberland without measure, for there seemed literally no end to their liberality. For four years the columns of their papers had exhibited an almost weekly list of donations, that in number and value would have done infinite credit to a much wealthier community. The ladies, as usual, were especially active and indefatigable. Where, indeed, in all the sunny South were they not? And why should they not have been? They were working for their fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, and lovers, and for principles which these beloved ones had instructed them to cherish. Would it not have been culpable in the last degree for the women of the country to have remained even indifferent to a cause (good or bad) for which the men were laying down their lives? Why should they not take joyfully all privations and all hardships, for the sake of these, and soothe the agony of bereavement with the belief that they who needed their cares no longer, lying rolled in their bloody blankets in the bosom of Virginia, or on the fatal hills of Pennsylvania, had died in a good cause and were resting in honored graves? Who shall question the course of the women of the South in this war, or dare to undervalue their lofty heroism and fortitude, unsurpassed in story or in song? When I forget you, O ye daughters of my country! your labors of love, your charity, faith, and patience, all through the dark and bloody day, lighting up the gloom of war with the tender graces of woman's devotion and self-denial, and now, in even darker hours, your energy and cheerful submission in toil and poverty and humiliation--when I cease to do homage to your virtues, and to your excellences, may my right hand forget its cunning and my voice be silent in the dust!

The people of Fayetteville supported the Confederate Government warmly to the last gasp, upon the principle that _united_, the South might stand--_divided_, she certainly would fall. After the failure of the Peace Commission, the citizens met and passed vigorous war resolutions, calling on all classes to rally once more in self-defense--a proceeding which did more credit to their zeal than to their ability to read the signs of the times; for, rally or no rally, the fate of the Confederacy was already written on the wall.

All these antecedents doubtless conspired to give Fayetteville a bad character in the opinion of our Northern brethren, who, for their part, were bent on peace-making; and accordingly, when the hour and the man arrived, on the eleventh of March, 1865, she found she must pay the penalty. A skirmish took place in the streets between General Sherman's advanced-guard and a part of General Hampton's cavalry, which covered the retreat of Hardee's division across the Cape Fear. This, no doubt, increased the exasperation of feeling toward this "nest of rebels," and the determination to put a check to all future operations there in behalf of the cause. In less than two hours after the entrance of the Federal forces, so adroitly had every house in the town and its suburbs been ransacked and plundered, that it may be doubted if all Fayetteville, the next day, could have contributed two whole shirts or a bushel of meal to the relief of the Confederate army. The incidents of that most memorable day, and for several days succeeding, would fill (and _will_ fill) a volume; and as for the nights, they were illuminated by the glare of blazing houses all through the pine groves for several miles around Fayetteville. One of the first of the "soldiers in blue" who entered the town, accosted in the street a most distinguished and venerable clergyman, Rev. William Hooper, D.D., LL.D., more than seventy years of age--the grandson of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence--and who had suffered reproach for his adherence to the Union, and whose very appearance should have challenged respect and deference--accosted him as a "d----d rebel," and putting a pistol to his head, demanded and carried off his watch and purse.

Southerners can not write calmly of such scenes yet. Their houses were turned into seraglios, every portable article of value, plate, china and glass-ware, provisions and books were carried off, and the remainder destroyed; hundreds of carriages and vehicles of all kinds were burned in piles; where houses were isolated they were burned; women were grossly insulted, and robbed of clothing and jewelry; nor were darker and nameless tragedies wanting in lonely situations. No; they hardly dare trust themselves to think of these things. "That way lies madness." But the true story of "THE GREAT MARCH" will yet be written.

Not the least remarkable of all these noble strategical operations was the fact that black and white suffered alike. Nothing more strikingly evinces the entire demoralization and want of honor that prevailed. The negro whom they came to liberate they afterward plundered; his cabin was stripped of his little valuables, as well as his master's house of its luxuries; his humble silver watch was seized, as well as the gentleman's gold repeater. This policy is also modern, and due to the enlightenment of the nineteenth century. A good many years ago, a grand liberation of slaves took place, where the leaders and deliverer sanctioned the "spoiling of the Egyptians," but they hardly picked the pockets of the freedmen afterward.

During the month of March our central counties were traversed by straggling bodies of Confederate soldiers, fragments of the once powerful army of Tennessee, hurrying down toward Raleigh to concentrate under General Johnston once more, in the vain hope of being able yet to effect something. Tennesseeans, Texans, Georgians, Alabamians, men who had been in every fight in the West, from Corinth to Perrysville, from Perrysville to Atlanta--men who had left pleasant homes, wives and children, many of whom they knew were without a house to shelter them;

"For the blackness of ashes marked where it stood, And a wild mother's scream o'er her famishing brood!"

The whole population of our town poured out to see these war-worn men; to cheer them; to feed and shelter them. The little children gathered handfuls of the early daffodils "that take the winds of March with beauty," and flung to them. What we had to eat we gave them, day after day. Repeatedly the whole of a family dinner was taken from the table and carried out to the street, the children joyfully assisting. They were our soldiers--our own brave boys. The cause was desperate, we knew--the war was nearly over--our delusions were at an end; but while we had it, our last loaf to our soldiers--a cheer, and a blessing, with dim eyes, as they rode away.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 3: General Winfield Scott.]