CHAPTER XII.

CAMPAIGNING ON THE HUDSON.

“You have not, as good patriots should do, studied the public good, but your particular ends."-MASSINGER.

A

MOST appropriate proposition was uttered

by Andrew Johnson, during our war, to the following effect:-"When you hear a man talk about the Constitution, spot him! He is a traitor!" A great many Northern Democrats harangued the populace about the Constitution during the war time. Chiefest, because ablest and most eloquent among them, stood Horatio Seymour of New York. He was made Governor of the Empire State by a preponderance of Democratic votes.

The Confederate Congress passed a Conscription Act in April, 1862. I am not aware that any of the champions of constitutional liberty uttered a syllable against that. But when, over a year later, our own Legislature passed a milder, though similar measure,

in order to recruit the thinned ranks of our regiments, and because volunteers were not forthcoming, these copperheads" evinced a marvellous zeal for liberty, a boundless love for the Constitution. Whilst we were marching day and night, at a pace that killed and disabled thousands, to save the national capital from capture by the victorious Army of Northern Virginia, Governor Seymour and kindred spirits were preparing elaborate speeches to be delivered-when? On the 4th of July, anniversary of American Independence, and while the men of the Potomac were burying the dead who fell at Gettysburg on the previous day-who fell in a struggle which involved, not alone the cause of human freedom, but the very life of the nation itself. The pointed arguments and rounded periods of these men were aimed against Lincoln's Administration in general, and the impending conscription in particular. I will quote from Governor Seymour's oration, delivered in New York City on Independence Day. He said :

"When men accept despotism, they may have a choice as to who the despot shall be. The struggle then will not be-Shall we have constitutional liberty? But, having accepted the doctrine that the Constitution has lost its force, every instinct of personal ambition, every instinct of personal security, will lead men to put themselves under the protection of that power which they suppose most competent to guard their persons." And again :-" We stand to-day amid new

made graves, in a land filled with mourning; upon a soil saturated with the blood of the fiercest conflict of which history gives an account. We can, if we will, avert all these calamities, and evoke a blessing. If we will do what? Hold that Constitution, and liberties, and laws, are suspended ?-shrink back from the assertion of right? Will that restore them? Or shall we do as our fathers did, under circumstances of like trial, when they combated against the powers of a crown? They did not say that liberty was suspended; that men might be deprived of the right of trial by jury; that they might be torn from their homes by midnight intruders! (Tremendous and continued applause.) If you would save your country, and your liberties, begin right; begin at the hearthstones, which are ever meant to be the foundations of American institutions; begin in your family circle; declare that your privileges shall be held sacred; and having once proclaimed your own rights, take care that you do not invade those of your neighbour." (Applause.)

Men who talked in that strain during the Great Rebellion are now reminding us that "the war is over!" The men who fought have good reason for remembering the fact. The maimed and disabled, the friends and relations of the dead, will probably not forget that the war is over. But they will remember also that victory came in spite of Northern "copperheads." About ten days after the battle of Gettysburg,

the draft under the Enrolment Act began in New York, when that great city became the scene of the lawless and disgraceful works of a furious mob. Instigated by traitors, and encouraged by "copperheads," they resisted the execution of the conscription law by violence. Officers, and even friends of the Administration, were hunted down like dogs, negroes hung at sight, and an asylum for colored orphans-a noble work of charity, erected at a cost of $200,000-was first sacked and then burned to the ground. It became necessary to send troops from "the front" to quench this "fire in the rear."

Lee was retiring towards Richmond, followed by our army. One morning, whilst packing up to resume our march, a rumor floated through the regiment that we were ordered to New York. We had not then seen the newspaper accounts of the Draft Riots, and were ignorant of any "reason why" we should be sent to the Empire City; therefore, we treated the report with incredulity and laughter. But to our great joy and delight it turned out to be true enough.

The rioting had subsided before we reached the scene; nor was it renewed during the progress of the draft in the State, else Governor Seymour might have had occasion to mourn the loss of some of his "friends."

We were first encamped on Governor's Island, in New York Bay, under Colonel Loomis; and nothing

could be more satisfactory than the behavior of the men. Passes to visit the city were issued in liberal numbers. Permission was granted to dealers in all sorts of wares to land on the Island and deal with the troops-the sale of alcoholic liquors alone being prohibited. I was lying on my bunk one day, when a comrade ushered an old woman, with a basket on her arm, into the tent.

"Would you like to buy some sausages, sir?" she asked.

"No, thank you! not sausages-almost anything but sausages!" I answered. Whereupon the old woman began to wink, and blink, and nod, and smile in a most extraordinary manner, advancing and extending her basket towards me the while.

"What's the matter with her, Tom?" I asked my friend. And he began to wink, and blink, and nod. I sat up in my couch and examined the sausages. I changed my mind and bought them-Bourbon whisky done up in the skin and forms of sausages ! But in a few days the trick was discovered and stopped; others were resorted to, of course.

The high bounties paid to volunteers by the city authorities of New York rendered the draft unnecessary, and our regiment was ordered up the Hudson. We ascended that beautiful picturesque river, on a mellow day of the early Fall, in one of those palatial steamers, of unequalled splendor, for which the Hudson is celebrated. Hues of gold and crimson were