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Chapter 7: Missouri. April and May, 1861.
During the time of these events in
Louisiana, I was in constant correspondence with my brother,
John Sherman, at
Washington;
Mr. Ewing, at
Lancaster, Ohio; and
Major H. S. Turner, at
St. Louis.
I had managed to maintain my family comfortably at
Lancaster, but was extremely anxious about the future.
It looked like the end of my career, for I did not suppose that “civil war” could give me an employment that would provide for the family.
I thought, and may have said, that the national crisis had been brought about by the politicians, and, as it was upon us, they “might fight it out.”
Therefore, when I turned North from New Orleans, I felt more disposed to look to
St. Louis for a home, and to
Major Turner to find me employment, than to the public service.
I left New Orleans about the 1st of March, 1861, by rail to
Jackson and
Clinton, Mississippi,
Jackson, Tennessee, and
Columbus, Kentucky, where we took a boat to
Cairo, and thence, by rail, to
Cincinnati and
Lancaster.
All the way, I heard, in the cars and boats, warm discussions about politics; to the effect that, if
Mr. Lincoln should attempt coercion of the seceded States, the other slave or border States would make common cause, when, it was believed, it would be madness to attempt to reduce them to subjection.
In the
South, the people were earnest, fierce and angry, and were evidently organizing for action; whereas, in
Illinois,
Indiana, and
Ohio, I saw not the
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least sign of preparation.
It certainly looked to me as though the people of the
North would tamely submit to a disruption of the
Union, and the orators of the
South used, openly and constantly, the expressions that there would be no war, and that a lady's thimble would hold all the blood to be shed.
On reaching
Lancaster, I found letters from my brother John, inviting me to come to
Washington, as he wanted to see me; and from
Major Turner, at
St. Louis, that he was trying to secure for me the office of president of the Fifth Street Railroad, with a salary of twenty-five hundred dollars; that
Mr. Lucas and D. A. January held a controlling interest of stock, would vote for me, and the election would occur in March.
This suited me exactly, and I answered
Turner that I would accept, with thanks.
But I also thought it right and proper that I should first go to
Washington, to talk with my brother,
Senator Sherman.
Mr. Lincoln had just been installed, and the newspapers were filled with rumors of every kind indicative of war; the chief act of interest was that
Major Robert Anderson had taken by night into
Fort Sumter all the troops garrisoning
Charleston Harbor, and that he was determined to defend it against the demands of the
State of South Carolina and of the
Confederate States.
I must have reached
Washington about the 10th of March.
I found my brother there, just appointed
Senator, in place of
Mr. Chase, who was in the cabinet, and I have no doubt my opinions, thoughts, and feelings, wrought up by the events in
Louisiana, seemed to him gloomy and extravagant.
About
Washington I saw but few signs of preparation, though the
Southern Senators and Representatives were daily sounding their threats on the floors of Congress, and were publicly withdrawing to join the Confederate Congress at
Montgomery.
Even in the War Department and about the public offices there was open, unconcealed talk, amounting to high-treason.
One day,
John Sherman took me with him to see
Mr. Lincoln.
He walked into the room where the secretary to the
President now sits, we found the room full of people, and
Mr. Lincoln sat at the end of the table, talking with three or four gentlemen, who soon left.
John walked up, shook hands, and took a
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chair near him, holding in his hand some papers referring to minor appointments in the
State of Ohio, which formed the subject of conversation.
Mr. Lincoln took the papers, said he would refer them to the proper heads of departments, and would be glad to make the appointments asked for, if not already promised.
John then turned to me, and said, “
Mr. President, this is my brother,
Colonel Sherman, who is just up from
Louisiana, he may give you some information you want.”
“Ah!”
said
Mr. Lincoln, “how are they getting along down there?”
I said, “They think they are getting along swimmingly — they are preparing for war.”
“Oh, well!”
said he, “I guess we'll manage to keep house.”
I was silenced, said no more to him, and we soon left.
I was sadly disappointed, and remember that I broke out on John, d — ning the politicians generally, saying, “You have got things in a hell of a fix, and you may get them out as you best can,” adding that the country was sleeping on a volcano that might burst forth at any minute, but that I was going to
St. Louis to take care of my family, and would have no more to do with it. John begged me to be more patient, but I said I would not; that I had no time to wait, that I was off for
St. Louis; and off I went.
At
Lancaster I found letters from
Major Turner, inviting me to
St. Louis, as the place in the Fifth Street Railroad was a sure thing, and that
Mr. Lucas would rent me a good house on Locust Street, suitable for my family, for six hundred dollars a year.
Mrs. Sherman and I gathered our family and effects together, started for
St. Louis March 27th, where we rented of
Mr. Lucas the house on Locust Street, between Tenth and Eleventh, and occupied it on the 1st of April.
Charles Ewing and
John Hunter had formed a law-partnership in
St. Louis, and agreed to board with us, taking rooms on the third floor In the latter part of March, I was duly elected president of the Fifth Street Railroad, and entered on the discharge of my duties April 1, 1861.
We had a central office on the corner of Fifth and Locust, and also another up at the stables in
Bremen.
The road was well stocked and in full operation, and all I had to do was to watch the economical administration of existing affairs, which
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I endeavored to do with fidelity and zeal, But the whole air was full of wars and rumors of wars.
The struggle was going on politically for the border States.
Even in
Missouri, which was a slave State, it was manifest that the
Governor of the
State,
Claiborne Jackson, and all the leading politicians, were for the
South in case of a war. The house on the northwest corner of Fifth and Pine was the rebel headquarters, where the rebel flag was hung publicly, and the crowds about the
Planters' House were all more or less rebel.
There was also a camp in Lindell's Grove, at the end of Olive Street, under command of
General D. M. Frost, a Northern man, a graduate of
West Point, in open sympathy with the
Southern leaders.
This camp was nominally a State camp of instruction, but, beyond doubt, was in the interest of the
Southern cause, designed to be used against the national authority in the event of the
General Government's attempting to coerce the Southern Confederacy.
General William S. Harney was in command of the Department of Missouri, and resided in his own house, on Fourth Street, below Market; and there were five or six companies of United States troops in the arsenal, commanded by
Captain N. Lyon; throughout the city, there had been organized, almost exclusively out of the German part of the population, four or five regiments of “Home guards,” with which movement
Frank Blair,
B. Gratz Brown,
John M. Schofield,
Clinton B. Fisk, and others, were most active on the part of the national authorities.
Frank Blair's brother Montgomery was in the cabinet of
Mr. Lincoln at
Washington, and to him seemed committed the general management of affairs in
Missouri.
The newspapers fanned the public excitement to the highest pitch, and threats of attacking the arsenal on the one hand, and the mob of d----d rebels in Camp Jackson on the other, were bandied about.
I tried my best to keep out of the current, and only talked freely with a few men; among them
Colonel John O'Fallon, a wealthy gentleman who resided above
St. Louis.
He daily came down to my office in
Bremen, and we walked up and down the pavement by the hour, deploring the sad condition of our country, and the seeming
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drift toward dissolution and anarchy.
I used also to go down to the arsenal occasionally to see
Lyon,
Totten, and other of my army acquaintance, and was glad to see them making preparations to defend their post, if not to assume the offensive.
The bombardment of
Fort Sumter, which was announced by telegraph, began April 12th, and ended on the 14th.
We then knew that the war was actually begun, and though the
South was openly, manifestly the aggressor, yet her friends and apologists insisted that she was simply acting on a justifiable defensive, and that in the forcible seizure of the public forts within her limits the people were acting with reasonable prudence and foresight.
Yet neither party seemed willing to invade, or cross the border.
Davis, who ordered the bombardment of
Sumter, knew the temper of his people well, and foresaw that it would precipitate the action of the border States; for almost immediately
Virginia,
North Carolina,
Arkansas, and
Tennessee, followed the lead of the cotton States, and conventions were deliberating in
Kentucky and
Missouri.
On the night of Saturday, April 6th, I received the following dispatch:
Will you accept the chief clerkship of the War Department?
We will make you assistant
Secretary of War when Congress meets.
To which I replied by telegraph, Monday morning, “I cannot accept;” and by mail as follows:
I received, about nine o'clock Saturday night, your telegraph dispatch, which I have this moment answered, “I cannot accept.”
I have quite a large family, and when I resigned my place in
Louisiana, on account of secession, I had no time to lose; and, therefore, after my hasty visit to
Washington, where I saw no chance of employment, I came to
St. Louis, have accepted a place in this company, have rented a house, and incurred other obligations, so that I am not at liberty to change.
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I thank you for the compliment contained in your offer, and assure you that I wish the Administration all success in its almost impossible task of governing this distracted and anarchical people.
Yours truly,
I was afterward told that this letter gave offense, and that some of
Mr. Lincoln's cabinet concluded that I too would prove false to the country.
Later in that month, after the capture of
Fort Sumter by the
Confederate authorities,
a Dr. Cornyn came to our house on Locust Street, one night after I had gone to bed, and told me he had been sent by
Frank Blair, who was not well, and wanted to see me that night at his house.
I dressed and walked over to his house on Washington Avenue, near Fourteenth, and found there, in the front-room, several gentlemen, among whom I recall
Henry T. Blow.
Blair was in the back-room, closeted with some gentleman, who soon left, and I was called in. He there told me that the
Government was mistrustful of
General Harney, that a change in the command of the department was to be made; that he held it in his power to appoint a brigadier-general, and put him in command of the department, and he offered me the place.
I told him I had once offered my services, and they were declined; that I had made business engagements in
St. Louis, which I could not throw off at pleasure; that I had long deliberated on my course of action, and must decline his offer, however tempting and complimentary.
He reasoned with me, but I persisted.
He told me, in that event, he should appoint
Lyon, and he did so.
Finding that even my best friends were uneasy as to my political status, on the 8th of May I addressed the following official letter to the
Secretary of War:
dear sir: I hold myself now, as always, prepared to serve my country in the capacity for which I was trained.
I did not and will not volunteer for
three months, because I cannot throw my family on the cold charity of
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the world.
But for the
three-years call, made by the
President, an officer can prepare his command and do good service.
I will not volunteer as a soldier, because rightfully or wrongfully I feel unwilling to take a mere private's place, and, having for many years lived in
California and
Louisiana, the men are not well enough acquainted with me to elect me to my appropriate place.
Should my services be needed, the records of the War Department will enable you to designate the station in which I can render most service.
Yours truly,
To this I do not think I received a direct answer; but, on the 14th of the same month, I was appointed colonel of the Thirteenth Regular Infantry.
I remember going to the arsenal on the 9th of May, taking my children with me in the street-cars.
Within the arsenal wall were drawn up in parallel lines four regiments of the “Home guards,” and I saw men distributing cartridges to the boxes.
I also saw
General Lyon running about with his hair in the wind, his pockets full of papers, wild and irregular, but I knew him to be a man of vehement purpose and of determined action.
I saw of course that it meant business, but whether for defense or offense I did not know.
The next morning I went up to the railroad-office in
Bremen, as usual, and heard at every corner of the streets that the “
Dutch” were moving on Camp Jackson.
People were barricading their houses, and men were running in that direction.
I hurried through my business as quickly as I could, and got back to my house on Locust Street by twelve o'clock.
Charles Ewing and
Hunter were there, and insisted on going out to the camp to see “the fun.”
I tried to dissuade them, saying that in case of conflict the by-standers were more likely to be killed than the men engaged, but they would go. I felt as much interest as anybody else, but staid at home, took my little son Willie, who was about seven years old, and walked up and down the pavement in front of our house, listening for the sound of musketry or cannon in the direction of Camp Jackson.
While so engaged
Miss Eliza Dean, who lived opposite us, called me across the street, told me that her brother-in-law,
Dr. Scott, was a surgeon in
Frost's camp, and she was dread
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fully afraid he would be killed.
I reasoned with her that
General Lyon was a regular officer; that if he had gone out, as reported, to Camp Jackson, he would take with him such a force as would make resistance impossible; but she would not be comforted, saying that the camp was made up of the young men from the first and best families of
St. Louis, and that they were proud, and would fight.
I explained that young men of the best families did not like to be killed better than ordinary people.
Edging gradually up the street, I was in Olive Street just about Twelfth, when I saw a man running from the direction of Camp Jackson at full speed, calling, as he went, “They've surrendered, They've surrendered!”
So I turned back and rang the bell at
Mrs. Dean's. Eliza came to the door, and I explained what I had heard; but she angrily slammed the door in my face!
Evidently she was disappointed to find she was mistaken in her estimate of the rash courage of the best families.
I again turned in the direction of Camp Jackson, my boy Willie with me still.
At the head of Olive Street, abreast of Lindell's Grove, I found
Frank Blair's regiment in the street, with ranks opened, and the
Camp Jackson prisoners inside.
A crowd of people was gathered around, calling to the prisoners by name, some hurrahing for
Jeff Davis, and others encouraging the troops.
Men, women, and children, were in the crowd.
I passed along till I found myself inside the grove, where I met
Charles Ewing and
John Hunter, and we stood looking at the troops on the road, heading toward the city.
A band of music was playing at the head, and the column made one or two ineffectual starts, but for some reason was halted.
The battalion of regulars was abreast of me, of which
Major Rufus Saxton was in command, and I gave him an evening paper, which I had bought of the newsboy on my way out. He was reading from it some piece of news, sitting on his horse, when the column again began to move forward, and he resumed his place at the head of his command.
At that part of the road, or street, was an embankment about eight feet high, and a drunken fellow tried to pass over it to the people opposite.
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One of the regular sergeant file-closers ordered him back, but he attempted to pass through the ranks, when the sergeant barred his progress with his musket “a-port.”
The drunken man seized his musket, when the sergeant threw him off with violence, and he rolled over and over down the bank.
By the time this man had picked himself up and got his hat, which had fallen off, and had again mounted the embankment, the regulars had passed, and the head of
Osterhaus's regiment of Home Guards had come up. The man had in his hand a small pistol, which he fired off, and I heard that the ball had struck the leg of one of
Osterhaus's staff; the regiment stopped; there was a moment of confusion, when the soldiers of that regiment began to fire over our heads in the grove.
I heard the balls cutting the leaves above our heads, and saw several men and women running in all directions, some of whom were wounded.
Of course there was a general stampede.
Charles Ewing threw Willie on the ground and covered him with his body.
Hunter ran behind the hill, and I also threw myself on the ground.
The fire ran back from the head of the regiment toward its rear, and as I saw the men reloading their pieces, I jerked Willie up, ran back with him into a gulley which covered us, lay there until I saw that the fire had ceased, and that the column was again moving on, when I took up Willie and started back for home round by way of Market Street. A woman and child were killed outright; two or three men were also killed, and several others were wounded.
The great mass of the people on that occasion were simply curious spectators, though men were sprinkled through the crowd calling out, “Hurrah for
Jeff Davis!”
and others were particularly abusive of the “damned
Dutch.”
Lyon posted a guard in charge of the vacant camp, and marched his prisoners down to the arsenal; some were paroled, and others held, till afterward they were regularly exchanged.
A very few days after this event, May 14th, I received a dispatch from my brother Charles in
Washington, telling me to come on at once; that I had been appointed a colonel of the Thirteenth Regular Infantry, and that I was wanted at Wash ington immediately.
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Of course I could no longer defer action.
I saw
Mr. Lucas,
Major Turner, and other friends and parties connected with the road, who agreed that I should go on. I left my family, because I was under the impression that I would be allowed to enlist my own regiment, which would take some time, and I expected to raise the regiment and organize it at
Jefferson Barracks.
I repaired to
Washington, and there found that the
Government was trying to rise to a level with the occasion.
Mr. Lincoln had, without the sanction of law, authorized the raising of ten new regiments of regulars, each infantry regiment to be composed of three battalions of eight companies each; and had called for seventy-five thousand State volunteers.
Even this call seemed to me utterly inadequate; still it was none of my business.
I took the oath of office, and was furnished with a list of officers, appointed to my regiment, which was still incomplete.
I reported in person to
General Scott, at his office on Seventeenth Street, opposite the War Department, and applied for authority to return
West, and raise my regiment at
Jefferson Barracks, but the general said my lieutenant-colonel,
Burbank, was fully qualified to superintend the enlistment, and that he wanted me there; and he at once dictated an order for me to report to him in person for inspection duty.
Satisfied that I would not be permitted to return to
St. Louis, I instructed
Mrs. Sherman to pack up, return to
Lan caster, and trust to the fate of war.
I also resigned my place as president of the Fifth Street Railroad, to take effect at the end of May, so that in fact I received pay from that road for only two months service, and then began my new army career.