CHAPTER V.

SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS--POLITICAL HARANGUES--A SUSPECTED “INCENDIARY”--BIBLE SOCIETY COLPORTEUR IN SCOTT COUNTY.

“When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth: All may be well; but if God sort it so, ’Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.” SHAKS., _Richard III_.

The Civil War begun in 1861 had for years its premonitions even in so retired a portion of the United States as East Tennessee then was; but they were not understood by the wisest of observers. The increased alarm among friends of the institution of slavery for its safety, would alone have been ominous; for strong fear of losing possessions tempts to rash and violent means of relief. There were other signs of coming evils:--the growing desire, especially of politicians in the South who were extremists, not only to preserve slavery within its existing limits but to fortify its perpetuity by extending its area; and also the widened direction of an intense and long-cherished animosity against abolitionists, so as to include in it all “Yankees” or “the North” in general. These sectional sentiments were not shared by the great body of East Tennesseeans. The large majority of them were not slave-holders. Cotton was not grown in the region, except that a very few farmers had small “patches” for domestic use. Even where slaves were owned, “the peculiar institution” most often wore a homely aspect. The negroes after a patriarchal fashion, were part of one household--the white and black children played together without fastidious reserve, and mutual kindly affections prevailed throughout the whole family. In 1860 the slaves were about one-tenth only of the population, and in over one-third of the counties less than one-seventeenth. The unlikeness of the mountainous region which is located centrally in the Atlantic States, to that of the planting States, is positive, and the dissimilarity in social and other conditions between their respective inhabitants could scarcely have escaped the observation of sagacious minds at the period named, when contemplating the political future. It may have been not without reference to possible coming emergencies, and to the promotion of sympathy with sectional sentiments among these mountaineers that one of the “Southern Commercial Conventions” which were feeders to disunion, was held in 1857 at the central town of East Tennessee. For its population then was only something over four thousand and its commercial vitality was small. Conspicuously apparent in the deliberations of that Convention was a spirit of sectional zeal, which once fairly excited and diffused, might easily upon opportunity or need be turned into a political dissolving temper. It would be interesting to know how many of those who were prominent in that and other “Southern Commercial Conventions” were also not long afterwards, active in the work of secession. Of the _lawyers_ who figured in the Knoxville mercantile assembly was a Virginia “Hotspur.” A few years later he told the South Carolinians who stood ready, if possible, to dissolve the Union; “strike a blow and Virginia will go out!” The blow was struck, Fort Sumter fell, and Virginia went out.

As the _ante-bellum_ decade drew nigh its close, a South Carolina gentleman of distinction visited the same very interior town. Currently told, he was father of the saying that “the Yankees know nothing of government; their only idea of it is that the majority shall rule.” To this sentiment a ready-witted editor responded, that its author “differed from the Yankees in but one particular, his only idea of government being that the minority shall rule.” This gentleman was of an aristocratic turn of mind. Evidently he considered the countrymen among whom he dwelt for the time fit subjects for a study, the precise nature and conclusions of which others could only conjecture. One day at his hotel he was wrapped in long and quiet but intent contemplation of the people on the street. A citizen-friend who had looked on him as he mused, fancied in the light thrown back on memory by the flames of war shortly afterwards kindled, that the silent reflections of the stranger had reference to the impending conflict; not as an emissary from a disaffected State, much less bent individually upon unfriendly espionage of the land, but as a political philosopher, forming an estimate of the capacity of the people before him for sharing in a life and death national struggle, and weighing in the scales of his judgment the relative probabilities of their inclining to favor one or the other of the antagonists in that struggle.

In 1860, late in the canvass for the Presidency of the United States, a political discussion took place at Knoxville between three of the candidates for Elector from the State at large: Mr. W. C. Whitthorne on the Breckenridge ticket, Mr. Nathaniel G. Taylor on the ticket for Bell, and Mr. Hopkins on that for Douglass. Mr. Whitthorne spoke respectably well. Mr. Taylor was truly eloquent. His description of the civil war, which he declared the friends of Mr. Breckenridge were contriving to bring upon the country in the event of their party being defeated and the Republican candidate’s election to the Presidency, was vivid and powerful. Few, if any, of his hearers, however, had a real expectation that the calamity he so graphically depicted would shortly befall the land. He said that the people of East Tennessee were “determined to maintain the Union by force of arms against any movement from the South throughout their region of country to assail the Government at Washington with violence, and that the secessionists of the cotton States in attempting to carry out their nefarious design to destroy the Republic, would have to march over his dead body and the dead bodies of thousands of East Tennessee mountaineers slain in battle.”

The speech of Mr. Hopkins was lucid and logical, and reflected much credit upon his skill and power in debate. His antagonism was especially to the followers of Mr. Breckenridge as the authors of a ruinous breach in the unity of the Democratic party that had so long ruled the nation and dispensed its offices and emoluments.

Shortly before the Presidential election in the autumn of 1860, William L. Yancey of Alabama, came to Knoxville by pre-arrangement with resident extremists on the subject of “Southern rights,” and spoke to a popular assembly in the open air. He labored to show that the South did not receive justice at the hands of the North, that the negro was never intended by the Federal Constitution and its authors as anything more than property, that it was the interest of the white man of the South to perpetuate slavery, because it gave the South a political power in Congress it would not otherwise have, and also for other reasons which he stated.

Among those who then heard him for the first time some were disappointed that they did not find in him the able orator whom Fame had heralded. His voice, without being disagreeable, had no special good qualities, and was too monotonous of tone. He showed, however, great earnestness, and now and then rose to eloquence. Evidently he had a quick, high and imperious temper, a bold and determined will, superior readiness and skill in debate, and the disposition to domineer over opponents. His determination seemed to be not to heal existing dissensions but to maintain by strife the South’s rival powder in the nation.

His speech was not well received by many of those who heard it. At one time being rudely interrupted by a man in the crowd, he peremptorily silenced the intruder. Before concluding his discourse, a note was handed to him. Having read it, he asked the writer to come upon the platform. The note conveyed a desire to know, if, in the event of Mr. Lincoln’s election to the Presidency, Mr. Yancey would favor the secession of the Southern States from the Union and forcible resistance to the Federal Government? The person so unexpectedly elevated to the side of the orator was Mr. Maney, from Pennsylvania, but for some years a citizen of Tennessee; endowed with much good sense, large acquaintance with public affairs and considerable readiness of speech. A brief colloquy ensued, in which Mr. Yancey endeavored without success to bring Mr. Maney into ridicule. At length it came to light that the latter was the representative of others in the assembly whose names were signed to the note, and which were then called aloud by Mr. Yancey, with a request that the persons bearing them should ascend to the platform. They complied accordingly: Rev. William G. Brownlow, Judge Samuel R. Rodgers, O. P. Temple, John M. Fleming, and Wm. R. Rodgers, M.D.

The orator proceeded to read an extract from a published speech or letter of the Hon. John Bell of Tennessee, declaring his mind as to the course of conduct the slave States ought to adopt, should Mr. Lincoln be elected. He then desired to know severally from the gentlemen before him, whether they endorsed Mr. Bell’s sentiments? Mr. Temple answered that he approved them, if the words in which they were expressed were taken with their context and rightly interpreted: at the same time adding, that in his own opinion, any forcible resistance to the Federal Government would be improper. Of like purport in general, was the reply made by each of his companions, except that of Mr. Brownlow. When called on to answer he said “that not only would he refuse to join in any secession or armed opposition to the authority of the National Government because of Mr. Lincoln’s election, but that any body of men attempting to march on Washington City with hostile purpose through East Tennessee, would find there thousands of men ready to prevent them by force of arms. Among those defenders of the Union, he,” Mr. Brownlow, “would take his stand, and that over their dead bodies they who sought to overthrow the Government would have to make their way.”

Mr. Yancey replied. He gave it as his opinion that the statement from Mr. Bell that had been read, favored the idea of resistance under certain circumstances. Declining to answer at once and in few words the inquiry first propounded, he went into a historical statement of the question of secession as it had been agitated in Alabama, and of his connection with it. Finally he said, that as a loyal son of that State, he would abide by its decision in the case and go as it might go. “As for this man,” he said, turning to Mr. Brownlow, “who talks of confronting the sons of the South in a contest for their rights, with the armed opposition of East Tennesseeans,--if his (Mr. Yancey’s) State determined upon resistance, he would meet Mr. Brownlow in the bloody strife, and” making a violent gesture towards Mr. B.’s person, “would give him the bayonet up to the muzzle.” At this utterance and action, a strong sensation passed through the assembly. The orator went on to reproach his opponent, that being by profession a minister of the Gospel, he should be a fomenter of strife, and counseled him to amend his conduct. Mr. Brownlow replied in his peculiar style with pungent words, and soon the people dispersed.

The Alabamian’s friends seemed to be jubilant over the victory they claimed to have won in the wordy encounter. The other party were less demonstrative but more determined than before, and were moved to various degrees of wrath by the disunion sentiments to which they had listened. Some, while stirred to indignation by the sentiments, which they considered atrocious, and at the speaker’s audacity in uttering them, had yet a feeling of regret that their own champions were put on the platform at disadvantage; had been subjected in turn to questioning by their adversary, as witnesses might be in court by an adroit attorney; and were compelled to relative silence, while he, on the point at issue, fully delivered his mind with an air of triumph to the exhilaration of his friends.

When the result of the Presidential election was known, the political excitement greatly increased. There had been no electoral ticket in Tennessee for the Republican candidates: and had any citizen of the State openly advocated Mr. Lincoln’s election, he would have had to suffer indignity and injury, or to flee from his home. The general public sentiment was hostile to the Republican party and at the same time friendly to the continuance of slavery where it existed, without interference from abroad. As between secession and the preservation of the Union, opinions differed both in kind and degree of strength. A single incident will illustrate the situation:

A citizen of Ohio, selling fruit-tree scions arrived at Knoxville from Asheville, North Carolina. He was closely followed by the newspaper of that village, fixing strong suspicion upon him from slight evidence, as a peregrinating Abolitionist with a sinister purpose. Meanwhile he with his chattels personal, had found temporary lodgment on the Deaf and Dumb Asylum grounds. Some medical students at Philadelphia from Mississippi and Alabama, influenced by political fervor, when the work of secession began, incontinently abandoned their professional studies, and departed homewards. Arriving at Knoxville on their way, and hearing of the alleged anti-slavery Ohioan, they went without delay and demanded his expulsion from the community. But because of the Asylum’s Principal, they failed in their errand, and as rumor told, were humorously rebuked by him for their impertinent wrath and intolerance.

Their visit was soon succeeded by one of more formidable proportions from indignant citizens, with a local office-holder of the United States at their head. The suspected political “incendiary” was arrested and led a prisoner to the court-house. There excited people gathered, until the room was filled to its utmost capacity. Nor could this fact justly occasion surprise. Slaves bore the fatal stigma in public estimation, generally, of being not _persons_, but _things_. Their classification therefore, in common with houses, goods and whatever else could, like them, be bought and sold, was under the head of property. And any alarm raised that peaceful possession of them was endangered, naturally enough assembled a crowd. A citizen, attracted to the meeting by its understood object, entered the court-room, as Parson Brownlow in concluding a speech, gave no opinion _pro_ or _con_ about the stranger, but advised the people to watch, for that fomenters of trouble with the negroes were abroad in the country.

Afterwards, the committee of citizens appointed to consider and determine the extent of grievance inflicted upon the community and what should be its redress, reported through its chairman,--who had led in making the arrest,--that the stranger was guilty of Abolitionism and should be ordered to leave the town which his presence put in danger. But further proceedings in the direct line of a vote upon the proposition, were halted by the courageous interposition of the Deaf Mutes’ Asylum Principal in behalf of the prisoner, with whom he had conversed, and who, he averred, was not an extreme and dangerous anti-slavery man. This reduction of the guilt of the accused, was promptly and hotly resented by the committee’s chairman as a denial of his personal veracity, not to be borne. The Principal, without disputing the logical sequence of that deduction, stoutly maintained the truth of his statement, and an altercation ensued that threatened to end in a general row. The assembly became tumultuous. Men ready for fight with sticks and pistols sprang upon the platform, where stood the disputants, between whom a third person, urged on by others, had interposed himself and essayed to speak. But he could not be heard because of the great clamor, accompanied by violent gesticulations, of the assembly. At length a few words from the _tertium quid_, minimizing the difficulty into a mere difference of opinion between two gentlemen, were listened to, and the excitement subsided.

As for the troubled Ohioan, he “stood not upon the order of his going” from a locality inhospitable and dangerous to strangers who felt free to say that they did not find their Bibles and human slavery altogether harmonious. It is to this day, however, an unsolved question, whether as he went, righteous indignation at the treatment he had received or sincere joy at his escape from worse ills, prevailed in his soul.

The mental agitations of people living in towns and in less remote parts of the country, caused by the work of secession as it progressed, were painfully shared by many older and conservative persons. They could not bear the thought of a dissolution of the Union, and in some instances were moved by it to tears, alternating with anger. As the possibility of so dire an event grew in their apprehensions, they shrank back from witnessing its occurrence, as one might do from looking on at the death of a beloved kinsman.[16] But the dwellers in the more mountainous parts of East Tennessee, “far from the madding crowd,” were comparatively free from all such agitations and griefs.

In the autumn of 1860 a Colporteur of the Knoxville Bible Society[17] distributed the Book among the people of Scott County, Tennessee, a very elevated region near the Kentucky border line. On returning home, he made a report of his labors to Mr. C.,--Depositary of the society,--who greatly deplored the possible destruction of the Union. The Colporteur soon afterwards met another Unionist, and said:

“Do you know that Mr. C. is going to Scott County to live?” The other, knowing Mr. C. to be a person of wealth, who would by such an exchange lose comfortable surroundings, answered:

“No! how is that?”

“O,” said the Colporteur, “I told him that I asked the people over in Scott County ‘how were times with them,’ and they said, ‘not very good.’ I inquired if that was because of the troubles in the country? They asked, ‘what troubles?’ I said: ‘Troubles to the Union. Haven’t you heard that South Carolina has seceded?’ They answered, ‘no!’”

“Now,” the Colporteur added, “I told this to Mr. C. and he says he is going to Scott County to live: for if the Union should be dissolved, _he will never hear of it over there_.”