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Chapter 26 |
HOW GOVERNOR JOHN ANDREW TOOK THINGS IN HAND.
In the year 1861 a chubby, curly-headed little man
took the executive chair as governor of Massachusetts. His name was John
Albion Andrew.
With neither the personal presence of Charles Sumner,
the commanding grace of Wendell Phillips, nor he magnetic eloquence of
either, he had ever been as earnest a worker in behalf of freedom, and
had shown himself the friend of the broken, the dispirited, and the
oppressed, and an intense lover of the Union, "one and indivisible,"
but free.
In face and form he did not suggest the hero; he was
more like Pickwick than like Pericles; and when he vas elected governor
of that commonwealth whose long array of chief magistrates, from John
Hancock and Samuel Adams to Edward Everett and Nathaniel Prentiss Banks,
had been men of dignity, force, and ability, hose who had voted for him
with hesitation feared lest he prove unsafe as a radical reformer or
wanting in executive ability.
They speedily discovered their mistake. That little man
in the governor’s chair towered over all his predecessors as a giant
in ability, "the safest pilot that ever weathered a storm."
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Even when he entered office as
governor of Massachusetts that storm was gathering fast, and ~John
Albion Andrew was one of the first to discover it. The friction between
the North and the South over the question of slavery and tile
maintenance of the Union, which began with John Quincy Adams of
Massachusetts in the Congress of 1836, and culminated with Charles
Sumner of Massachusetts in the Congress of 1856, became unendurable in
i86i. One by one, the States of the South seceded, Sumter was fired
upon, the war for the Union began.
Of the sixteen famous and remarkable American
"war governors" who upheld the hands of the general government
through those four terrible years of civil war, none is more famous or
was more remarkable than John Albion Andrew, the twenty-first governor
of Massachusetts.
The bursting of the storm found him preparing. He was
inaugurated on the 5th of January, i86i, and that very day he sent
confidential messengers to the governors of the other New England
States, prophesying war, and urging united and immediate military
preparations. On the 16th of January he ordered that the ranks of the
State militia be filled with able-bodied men, "prepared for any
emergency which may arise," and on the 1st of February the State
legislature, compelled by the governor’s urgency, voted an
"emergency fund" of one hundred thousand dollars, and
authorized him to organize and equip as many military companies and
regiments "as the public exigency may require."
Though men smiled at their governor’s
"rush," and |
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scouted his idea of war, that exigency was not far off.
It came, at last, with the attack on Fort Sumter on the 15th of April,
for seventy-five thousand volunteers to defend the Union.
The volunteers of Massachusetts were ready. During
the months of uncertainty, while others were waiting, Governor Andrew
was acting. The militia was strengthened; defenses were investigated;
blankets; cartridges, and knapsacks for two thousand troops were
secured; overcoats were purchased (and for a long time these infantry
overcoats were called "Andrew’s overcoats"); correspondence
was kept up; a secret message cipher was arranged; and quick routes to
Washington were studied and selected,
The governor’s proclamation followed close upon
that of the President, and when, on the 15th of April, two |
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regiments were telegraphed for from Washington, four,
on the 16th, were ordered to muster on Boston Common.
They responded at once,—Captain Allen’s company
from Abington, three companies of the Eighth from Marblehead, Captain
Richardson’s company from Cambridge (the first recruits of the war),
Captain Devereaux’s company from Salem, Captain Dike’s company from
Stoneham, with Captain Pratt’s battalion of rifles and Captain Sampson’s
Boston company. These were first on the ground, and, a storm preventing
the muster on the Common, they made their
headquarters, as was most fitting, at Faneuil Hall. Others followed
fast, and on the 17th three regiments were hurried south: first, in the
afternoon; the Fourth by steamer to Fortress Monroe; an hour later the
Sixth, by rail, to Washington; and, during the night the Third, by
steamer, to Fortress Monroe. The Eighth followed, by rail, on the i8th;
and so vigorous was the governor’s action, and so well laid his plans,
that, in an incredibly short time, out from peaceful Massachusetts and
her fourteen counties went nearly four thousand officers and men,
volunteers for three months’ service, hurrying "on to
Washington."
"It was these militia regiments, and such as
these," says Colonel Higginson, "that saved the nation during
that first period of peril."
Of these earliest departures, the Sixth Massachusetts
Regiment, commanded by Colonel Jones of Pepperell, was the first armed
regiment to reach Washington, the first to shed its blood in the cause
of the Union, the first to become famous. The whole land knows the story
of the attack on the Sixth Massachusetts at Baltimore, |
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where, on the 19th of April, 1861—a day historic in the Bay State’s
Revolutionary story,—four Massachusetts soldiers were killed and
thirty-six wounded by the mob of the Baltimore streets. It was the first
blood of’ the Civil War, and well did Massachusetts avenge it. But
when, thirty-seven years after, that same Sixth Regiment of
Massachusetts volunteers again marched through Baltimore to join the
soldiers of the South on the mission of liberty and redemption for Cuba,
the streets of the beautiful city resounded with cheers of welcome and
cries of brotherhood. Much can happen in thirty-seven years, but no more
significant happening was ever recorded than Baltimore’s shouts of
welcome in 1898 to the regiment whom she had met with blows and curses
in 1861.
In all those four years of woeful civil war the State of
Massachusetts sent to the defense of the Union, as her contribution to
the armies and navy of the United States, one hundred and sixty thousand
men. Every, city and town in the State filled its quota whenever the
President called for troops,—in fact; the returns stow that sixteen
thousand more men than were called for were enlisted in Massachusetts.
Promptness in the field, a high standard of fighting men, freedom
from unsoldierly actions, an excess of volunteers over the government
quota, men toughened into tireless soldiers, and officers developed into
such able leaders as Lowell and Bartlett and Banks and Devens and Miles,—this
was the record of Massachusetts in the field; and for it John Albion
Andrew, "a governor who appreciated the situation," was
largely responsible. |
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Equally responsible, too, was he
for the energy and reliability of the commonwealth. No one man can be
responsible for the patriotism of a people schooled to that high duty by
Revolutionary traditions, or for a public opinion founded upon an ardent
love of liberty; but for the practical development of that public
opinion, and the right direction of that patriotism, Governor John
Andrew was peculiarly fitted, and right gallantly did he take things in
hand.
Under his direction and the inspiration of their
cause, the soldiers fought, the people gave. Out of her State treasury
Massachusetts contributed to the expenses of the war twenty-eight
millions of dollars, not counting the expenditures of the cities and
towns; she paid in gold all the interest of her debt incurred for war
purposes; she kept her credit unimpaired, and her name high for honor,
integrity, and loyalty, upholding by the patience, endurance, and desire
of her citizens the hands of their great war governor, and of their sons
and fathers who, on land and sea, were fighting the battles of the
Union.
The chubby little war governor had done his duty
nobly. He had become a great, an historic figure. Watchful ever,
restless in his energy, tireless in his activity, putting forth all his
powers for the great cause that was battling for its life, writing
thousands of letters, meeting extraordinary expenses, and never sparing
his own pocket, Governor John Andrew threw himself, heart and soul, into
the task of strengthening the federal government and helping it on
toward victory.
And when victory came at last, when, in the
Statehouse on the hill, the home-coming regiments delivered |
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into the custody of the governor of the State the
flags they had so valiantly borne through the four dreadful battle
years, who so happy as Governor Andrew? He received, on behalf of the
State of Massachusetts, those stained and tattered battle flags,
"to be sacredly preserved forever in the archives of the
commonwealth, as grand emblems of the heroic services and patriotic
devotion to liberty and union of one hundred and forty thousand of her
dead and living Sons."
So ran the order of" his Excellency, John A.
Andrew, governor and commander in chief."
Up the Street to the Statehouse, bearing their
colors, marched four thousand of the veterans of the Old Bay State. It
was upon a most appropriate day,—the 22d of
December, 1865, the
two hundred and forty-fifth anniversary of the landing of the Pilgrims
of Plymouth, —a typical and a fitting day; and
in the presence of a, host of spectators the governor received the
colors.
It is, sir," said General Couch, who led the
returning’ volunteers, "a peculiar satisfaction |
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and pleasure to us that you,
who have been an honor to the State and nation, from your marked
patriotism and fidelity throughout the war, and have been identified
with every organization before you, are now to receive back, as the
State custodian of her precious relics, these emblems of the devotion of
her sons. May it please your Excellency, the colors of the Massachusetts
volunteers are returned to the State."
The drums rolled, the bugles blew the salute to the
flag, and the governor received the colors.
"General," he said, "this pageant, so
full of pathos and of glory, forms the concluding scene in the long
series of visible actions and events, in which Massachusetts has borne a
part, for the overthrow of rebellion and the vindication of the Union.
Proud memories of many a field, sweet memories
alike of valor and friend— ship, sad memories of fraternal strife,
tender memories of our fallen brothers and sons whose dying eyes looked
last upon their flaming folds, grand memories of heroic virtues sublimed
by grief, exultant memories of the great and final victory of our
country, our Union, and the righteous cause, thankful memories of a
deliverance wrought out for human nature itself, unexampled by any
former achievement of arms, immortal memories with immortal honors
blended,—all twine round these splintered staves, weave themselves
along the warp and woof of these familiar flags, war-worn, begrimed, and
baptized with blood. . . . I
accept these relics in behalf of the people and the government. They
will be preserved and cherished, amid all the vicissitudes of the
future, as mementos of brave men and noble actions." |
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And to-day, in the noble rotunda
of the Statehouse, upon the clustered battle flags, "sacredly
preserved," looks down the portrait of that man of the hour from
whose hands they came and to whom they returned, the man who took things
in hand at a ticklish time, and did his duty nobly, unflinchingly, and
completely, —John Albion Andrew, the great "war governor" of
Massachusetts.
"Forewarned is forearmed ;"
that was Governor John Andrew’s motto in 1861
How practical a one it was this story of the Old Bay State’s
efficiency amid those first cries for succor and defense that came up
from the threatened capital has told you; and the lesson of readiness
that Governor John Andrew set in i86i was not forgotten when once again,
in 1898, came the call for troops to uphold the republic’s stern
decree that humanity, not persecution, justice, not tyranny, should
control in Cuba.
"Ready," said Governor Roger Wolcott, when
the word came for the Massachusetts quota. And so well filled, well
drilled, and well equipped were the four regiments of the Massachusetts
volunteers selected to answer the first call that, in the first advance
on Cuba, largely composed of regular troops, the Second Regiment of
Massachusetts volunteer militia was one of the two regiments assigned to
a foremost place, simply because it was ready and in prime condition to
take part in an active campaign.
Truly the seeds sown by Governor John Andrew,
thirty-seven years before, had borne excellent fruit. The Old Bay State,
thanks to his teaching, is never to be caught napping. |
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