War Crimes Against Southern Civilians

An Introduction to 

 Lincoln's War

In the midst of his 1863 invasion of the United States, Gen. Robert E. Lee issued a proclamation to his men. After suffering for two years innumerable depredations by their enemies, some Southerners, soldiers and civilians, thought at last the time had come for retaliation. Lee would have none of that. He reminded his troops that "the duties exacted of us by civilization and Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than in our own."

The commanding general considers that no greater disgrace could befall the army, and through it our whole people, than the perpetration of the barbarous outrages upon the unarmed and defenseless and the wanton destruction of private property, that have marked the course of the enemy in our own country...

It must be remembered that we make war only upon armed men, and that we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our people have suffered without lowering ourselves in the eyes of all whose abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our enemies, and offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, without whose favor and support our efforts must all prove in vain.'

Accustomed as we are in our own time to war's unmitigated horrors, the injunction of Lee seems anachronistic if not quixotic, yet is a measure and reminder of how much has been lost.

Through the centuries, by common consent within what used to be called Christendom, there arose a code of civilized warfare. Though other issues are covered by the term, and despite lapses, it came to be understood that war would be confined to combatants. Thus limited, said historian F. J. P. Veale, "it necessarily followed that an enemy civilian did not forfeit his rights as a human being merely because the armed forces of his country were unable to defend him."' According to Veale, the amelioration of war's barbarism did not come as a direct result of Christianity, or even from the rise of European chivalry, but "as the product of belated common sense." As early as the eighteenth century, Swiss jurist Emeric de Vattel, author of The Law of Nations, expressed what should be obvious to any student of history: breaking the code on one side encourages violations by the other, multiplying hatred and bitterness that can only increase the likelihood and intensity of future wars.' "There is today," concluded Vattel in 1758, "no Nation in any degree civilized which does not observe this rule of justice and humanity."4

Yet warring against noncombatants came to be the stated policy and deliberate practice of the United States in its subjugation of the Confederacy. Shelling and burning of cities, systematic destruction of entire districts, mass arrests, forced expulsions, wholesale plundering of personal property, even murder all became routine. The development of Federal policy during the war is difficult to neatly categorize. Abraham Lincoln, the commander in chief with a reputation as micromanager, well knew what was going on and approved. Commanders seemed always inclined to turn a blind eye to their soldiers' proclivity for theft and violence against the defenseless. And though the attitude of Federal authorities in waging war on Southern civilians became increasingly harsh over time, there was from the beginning a widespread conviction that the crushing of secession justified the severest of measures. Malice, not charity, is the theme most often encountered.

Lincoln's embracing of "hard war" may have had consequences more far-reaching even than defeat of the South. Union general Philip Sheridan, in Germany to observe that empire's conquest of France in 1870, told Otto von Bismarck that defeated civilians "must be left nothing but their eyes to weep with over the war." The chancellor was said to have been shocked by the unsolicited advice. But the kind of warfare practiced by the Federal military during 1861-65 turned America-and arguably the whole world-back to a darker age. "It scarcely needs pointing out," wrote Richard M. Weaver, "that from the military policies of [William T.] Sherman and Sheridan there lies but an easy step to the total war of the Nazis, the greatest affront to Western civilization since its founding."'

"In war, as in peace," observed Weaver, "people remain civilized by acknowledging bounds beyond which they must not go." Echoing the words of Lee, Weaver understood no necessary contradiction in the term "Christian" as applied to the profession of arms. "The Christian soldier must seek the verdict of battle always remembering that there is a higher law by which he and his opponent will be judged, and which enjoins against fighting as the barbarian."'

Some assume that as long as there are wars, there will be widespread excesses. Telford Taylor noted that the attitude of Americans when informed of the massacre of South Vietnamese civilians at My Lai was to discount it by saying that such things are bound to happen. "So, too," Taylor pointed out, "are murders and robberies `bound to happen' in our streets, and they are likely to happen much more often if we cease to regard them as reprehensible."7 Others justify war on civilians as necessary to achieve victory. They applaud the depredations of Sherman, hail him as a man ahead of his time, and smile as they repeat his "war is hell" mantra, not hearing the totalitarian echo in their words.

Historian James M. McPherson estimated that fifty thousand Southern civilians perished in war-related deaths.' Others place the figure far higher. Despite such numbers apologists for Lincoln's "hard war" then and now downplay the suffering endured and damage done, lay much to "mistakes" or "accidents," or even try to place blame on victims themselves. Little attention is paid to the poor who were plundered or to brutalized African-Americans. Many cling to the Lincolnian myth that only by the most horrendous of wars could the slaves be freed, ignoring the fact that the rest of the Western world managed to bring an end to the institution without bloodshed.

But one conviction remains an American article of faith: the war on Southern civilians was justified-the war itself was just-because it resulted in saving the union.

Abolitionist Lysander Spooner spent a lifetime battling slavery, but surprisingly found little to rejoice in over the outcome of Lincoln's war.

The principle, on which the war was waged by the North, was simply this: That men may rightfully be compelled to submit to, and support, a government that they do not want; and that resistance, on their part, makes them traitors and criminals.

No principle, that is possible to be named, can be more self-evidently false than this; or more self-evidently fatal to all political freedom. Yet it triumphed in the field, and is now assumed to be established. If it really be established, the number of slaves, instead of having been diminished by the war, has been greatly increased; for a man, thus subjected to a government that he does not want, is a slave.'

**

Chapter 20

"They Took Everything That Was Not 

 Red-Hot or Nailed Down "

March to the Sea

"Can we whip the South?" wrote William T. Sherman to Henry W. Halleck in 1863. "If we can, our numerical majority has both the natural and constitutional right to govern. If we cannot whip them, they contend for the natural right to select their own government." To keep that from happening-to insure that Southerners not have the right to select their own government-"we will remove and destroy every obstacle-if need be, take every life, every acre of land, every particle of property, everything that to us seems proper."' A year later, on the eve of his march through Georgia, Sherman boasted, "I am going into the very bowels of the Confederacy, and propose to leave a trail that will be recognized fifty years hence." It would be, he assured Halleck, "a track of desolation."'

Even before launching his March to the Sea, Sherman had begun making his mark on the people of Georgia. "We are drawing full rations, besides preying off the country," wrote a Union officer from Summerville, Georgia, in October.` Another remarked that same month how raiding parties returned with all manner of food taken from civilians. "The men lived high off the country and brought back lots of plunder."' Ike Derricotte, a black man living in Athens, remembered that "Yankees just went around takin' whatever they wanted . . . and laughed about it like they hadn't been stealin'."5 Though troops were officially prohibited from robbing civilians, officers almost always turned a blind eye when it happened. The men in the ranks well knew what "Uncle Billy" expected of them.

Troops marched out of burning Atlanta, heading to Covington by way of Lithonia and Stone Mountain.' When they left Covington for Macon, wrote local resident Dolly Lunt Burge,

They robbed every house on their road of provisions, sometimes taking every piece of meat, blankets, & wearing apparel, silver & arms of every description. They would take silk dresses and put them under their saddles & things for which they had no use. Is this the way to make us love them & their union? Let the poor people answer whom they have deprived of every mouthful of meat & of their stock to make any. Our mills, too, they have burned, destroying an immense amount of property.'

In Madison the railroad depot, tracks, cotton, and public property quickly went up in flames. Businesses were plundered, but of course soldiers were unable to transport much property with them. Instead, they destroyed all they could and amused themselves by such pranks as wearing women's hats taken from milliners' shops. Troops entered homes to continue their work of vandalism. Anything portable-china, silverware, small items of furniture-was thrown from windows. Pianos and wall mirrors were simply smashed where they were.'

In Henry County, southeast of Atlanta, when soldiers came to the plantation home of Jim Smith they were not content merely to steal and destroy. A former slave, Charlie Tye Smith, recalled how "Ole Marse Jim" was made to

pull off his boots and run bare-footed through a cane brake with half a bushel of potatoes tied around his neck; then they made him put his boots back on and carried him down to the mill and tied him to the water post. They were getting ready to break his neck when one of Master's slaves, "Ole Peter Smith," asked them if they intended to kill Marse Jim, and when they said "Yes," Peter choked up and said, "Well, please, suh, let me die with old Marse!"

With that, the Yankees ended their fun and left.'

At the Monroe County plantation of Cal Robinson, the invaders "ransacked the place, took all the victuals from the white folks and give 'em to the slaves," remembered one little girl. After the soldiers left the food was returned "'cause they was our own white folks and they always done give us plenty of everything.""' That was the experience, too, of Emma Hurley, a slave who lived in Lexington. After stealing anything they found of value, Yankees threw meat from the smokehouse to the slaves, but after they left, most was returned. "The Yankees poured out all the syrup and destroyed everything they could," remembered Emma." "They took everything that was not red-hot or nailed down," said Marshal Butler, a slave in Wilkes County.''

At the Glenn plantation south of Lexington, soldiers harassed Mrs. Glenn, pulling and jerking her long hair, trying to make her tell them where valuables might be hidden. The Yankees invited slaves to help themselves to meat from the smokehouse. Black children were crying and upset, remembered former slave Martha Colquitt,

because we loved Mistress and didn't want nobody to bother her. They made out like they were goin' to kill her if she didn't tell 'em what they wanted to know, but after a while they let her alone.... After the Yankees was done gone off Grandma began to fuss, "Now, them soldiers was tellin' us what ain't so, 'cause ain't nobody got no right to take what belongs to Master and 

At the nearby Echols plantation troops invited slaves to take all they wanted from the smokehouse as well as personal property from the master's home and then go where they wanted. Former slave Robert Shepherd recounted that none took them up on their offer of appropriating what was not theirs. When the invaders had gone, Mr. Echols called all of his bondsmen together. He was overcome with emotion and could barely speak, recalled Robert. "Master said he never knowed before how good we loved him. He told us he had done tried to be good to us and had done the best he could for us and that he was mighty proud of the way every one of us had done behaved ourselves."'"

"Madam, I have orders to burn this house," said one Federal to a resident on the road from Madison to Milledgeville. She replied that she hoped they would not burn the home of defenseless women.

"I'll insure it for fifty dollars," he replied. "I've got no fifty dollars to pay for insuring it; and if it depends upon that, it must burn."

An offer to "insure" property was one way Federals found to extort cash from their victims. "Soon as he saw he couldn't frighten me into giving him anything, he went to plundering," she said.15

Louise Caroline Cornwell watched as troops took "every living thing on the farm-took every bushel of corn and fodder, oats and wheat-every bee gum." They then put the torch to the gin house, blacksmith shop, and stored cotton. "Gen. [Oliver 0.] Howard and staff officers came at tea time," remembered Mrs. Cornwell. Howard was known for his supposed piety. "We managed to have something to eat for that meal, which was the last for several days, and while Gen. Howard sat at the table and asked God's blessings, the sky was red from flames of burning houses."16

Kate Latimer Nichols, twenty-seven, was sick and bedridden when the Yankees arrived at her farm home near Milledgeville. Two soldiers forced their way past a servant who guarded the door to her room and raped her. "Poor woman," wrote a neighbor in her diary, "I fear that she has been driven crazy." Indeed, the victim never recovered from the ordeal, dying in a mental institution.'

At Milledgeville, Georgia's capital until shortly after the Civil War, soldiers wrecked the library and destroyed priceless artifacts housed in the museum there. A bridge leading to the town had been burned to slow the advance of the Federal army, and when Sherman learned of this he ordered that some nearby house be randomly chosen for destruction.

At Sandersville, Confederates destroyed a supply of fodder before retreating. On Sherman's orders several houses in the neighborhood were torched in retaliation as his men ransacked the town. "In war," said Sherman when questioned about it, "everything is right which prevents anything. If bridges are burned, I have a right to burn all houses near it." This was in accordance with his orders, issued back on November 9. He then made it clear that "should guerillas or bushwhackers molest our march, or should the inhabitants burn bridges, obstruct roads, or other wise manifest local hostility, then army commanders should order and enforce a devastation more or less relentless."'"

Maj. James Austin Connolly agreed wholeheartedly with his commander. Any civilians who would dare destroy food or fodder before Federals could confiscate it for their own use would be severely punished.

Let them do it if they dare. We'll burn every house, barn, church, and everything else we come to; we'll leave their families houseless and without food; their towns will all be destroyed, and nothing but the most complete desolation will be found in our track. This army will not be trifled with. If citizens raise their hands against us to retard our march or play the guerrilla against us, neither youth nor age nor sex will be respected. Everything must be destroyed. . . . We have gone so far now in our triumphal march that we will not be balked."

"We have Sherman's word that it is his wish to conduct the war on civilized principles," mocked Henry Timrod, assistant editor of the Columbia Daily South Carolinian.

The inhabitants of an invaded district have no right to annoy an invading army in any way. To plant a single obstacle in the path of the beneficent power which comes to take care of their property and to relieve them of the "weight of too much liberty," is a crime justly provocative of the bitterest retaliation.... This is the Yankee version of the laws of civilized war. It is a piece with Sherman's mode of thinking and writing on every subject."

Mrs. Nora Canning and her elderly husband certainly offered no resistance when Federal troops arrived at their home near Louisville. The soldiers insisted that Mr. Canning show them where a quantity of syrup had been hidden in the swamp. The old gentleman told them he was unable to walk that far, so they brought a mule for him to ride. While he was gone troops fired the gin house, granary, and a large quantity of cloth. "The Negroes went out and begged for the cloth," wrote Mrs. Canning, "saying that it was to make their winter clothes. The cruel destroyers refused to let the Negroes have a single piece." "Well, madam," sneered one of the soldiers, "how do you like the looks of our little fire. We have seen a great many such, within the last few weeks."

Meanwhile, Mr. Canning's interrogators got down to business in the swamp, two miles from the house. "Now, old man, you have to tell us where your gold is hidden." When he replied that his money was in the bank, they cursed and led him to a tree over the path, tied a rope around his neck, threw it over a branch, and lifted him up until his feet were off the ground. Just before he lost consciousness, he was asked again, "now where is your gold?" Another denial led to another jerking off the ground until he nearly suffocated. Lowering him again, they shouted, "now tell us where that gold is or we will kill you, and your wife will never know what has become of you."

"I have told you the truth-I have no gold," he insisted. "I am an old man and at your mercy. If you want to kill me you have the power to do it, but I cannot die with a lie on my lips. I have no gold. I have a gold watch at the house, but nothing else."

"Swing the old Rebel up again!" shouted the leader. This time Mr. Canning heard a sound like rushing water, followed by blindness, before losing consciousness. Finally convinced that he must be telling the truth, the blue-clad gang poured water on his face and brought him back to the house, where they stole his gold watch.

"Oh! the horrors of that night!" wrote Nora Canning. "There my husband lay with scorching fever, his tongue parched and swollen and his throat dry and sore. He begged for water and there was not a drop to be had. The Yankees had cut all the well ropes and stolen the buckets." Mr. Canning continued to suffer for days. "His nose would bleed, and bloody water would ooze from his ears. His eyes were bloodshot and pained him greatly. His tongue was swollen.""

At the farm of Sam Hart and his wife, Yankees burned every building except the detached kitchen. The elderly Mrs. Hart was forced to cook for them, after which the soldiers knocked over the table, smashed everything in sight, stole the silver, burned their carriage, and took their horse.t'

"Missus, for God's sake come out here, and see what you can do about these here devils," said Cornelia Screven's cook, Nancy. Yankee troops had arrived at their Liberty County home and were forcing Nancy to prepare food for them, devouring all she had, and demanding ground cornmeal for their horses.

"Please don't take that meal," said Mrs. Screven, "my children are very hungry, and we have nothing else to eat."

"Damn you," one shouted, "I don't care if you all starve; get out of my way or I'll push you out the door."''

James Morgan, a little boy in the village of Sunbury, was ordered by a Federal trooper to bring a burning coal from his fireplace. He watched as they rode to the local church. "I wondered where they were going to build the fire. I knew the church had no chimney. I followed them to the church. They took rails from a fence nearby and built the fire under the stair steps. Soon the church was blazing."24

War Crimes Against Southern Civilians

Walter Brian Cisco