The Lost Gettysburg Address (12 page)

Two weeks later, Robert Anderson surrendered Fort Sumter and
war became inevitable. Late April was the scheduled time for
federal troops leaving Texas to leave from the coast on their homeward
journeys. The outbreak of hostilities changed those plans. On April
23,
Confederate Colonel Earl Van Dorn arrested his counterpart,
Colonel Carlos A. Waite, confining him and his staff officers as
formal prisoners of war. Other U.S. forces were already on their way to
the coast. Van Dorn went after them. It took Confederate soldiers
more than two weeks to detain or capture most of the exiting U.S.
troops. The last confrontation came about fifteen miles west of San
Antonio on the old military road at a place called San Lucas Springs.
U.S. commander Lieutenant Colonel Isaac Van Duzer Reeve and 270
men confronted nearly 1,400 Confederate partisans. Neither side
wanted bloodshed, so Reeve surrendered his command and marched
his troops into San Antonio on May 10. Any hope of Union resistance
in Texas was over without a shot being fired.

The U.S. troops held in San Antonio and elsewhere had few options
in their confinement. Their captors encouraged them to renounce
their allegiance to the Union and join the Confederate ranks. Few
did so. An alternative was to sign a “parole of honor” by which they
agreed not to take up arms against nor leave the Confederate States
until such time as they were either exchanged or released. Before
battles raged in the east, the prospects for exchange seemed bright, so
most chose this path. The same code of honor that protected U.S.
soldiers did not apply to the general public. Union men became
particularly vulnerable.
¹⁰

Few Union men were as bold or brave as
James P. Newcomb. His
Alamo Express
had been published on and off for about a year. When
Newcomb learned of the San Lucas Springs capture, he ran a
scathing condemnation of the act in his triweekly paper. A mob consisting
of KGC men and Texas Rangers responded by destroying Newcomb’s
press and burning his building. The next day, a well-armed Newcomb
rode down Commerce Street and out of town, headed for Mexico.
¹¹
In
Houston, violence against Union men reached a fever pitch. On May
15, two New Hampshire natives were tarred, feathered, ridden out
of town on a rail, and hanged. Anderson happened to be in Houston
and heard that
Dr. K. B. Ayer, also from New Hampshire, had been
branded an abolitionist. This was ludicrous, since Ayer owned a
plantation in Arkansas employing twenty-four slaves. Charles intervened
just in time to convince a lynch mob to spare his friend’s life in return
for his removal from the state.
¹²

Union men and their families began leaving Texas in droves and
the rebels were happy to see them go. Whether they chose to make
their way to the Texas coast, to New Orleans, or to brave the more
arduous journey southwest to Mexico, dangers along the way
necessitated that refugees travel in wagon trains. After the first major
land battle at Manassas, the Confederate government decided to put
a deadline on these emigrations. The Alien Enemy Act of August 8
gave the refugees forty days to leave the state. That deadline was later
extended to the end of October in Texas, based on the time it took
for the proclamation to reach remote areas. Those who tarried longer
were at the mercy of local authorities.

C
HARLES
ANDERSON’S FIRST IMPULSE
was to flee. Over the
course of the nightmare year 1861, however, the opportunity
to assist other Union men had caused him to hesitate. Now
that the Confederate government was closing that window, Anderson
had to get his family out. This was hardly an easy task. War created
chaos in financial markets, especially in the South. Compelled to sell
his livestock, land, and house quickly in a hostile climate, Anderson
braced for the worst. He had spent about thirty thousand dollars
creating his beautiful ranch and home. He salvaged only a fraction of
that investment.

Anderson first advertised his land for sale in the newspapers, but
a scarcity of money and nervous potential buyers made that effort
fruitless. He finally came up with an idea. His friend
John James
had an approved claim against the U.S. government for rent of lands
near Camp Hudson, Texas. It was due to be paid in 1861, but the
war broke out and the U.S. Senate froze appropriations to Texas. If
Anderson could get back to Washington, he could present James’s
claim and recover at least a thousand dollars. So he swapped some of
his property for James’s claim on September 14. Anderson exchanged
his most valuable land for notes on a house in Louisville, Kentucky.
He bartered his prized stallions for land and whiskey in Lexington,
Kentucky.
¹

The remaining livestock and personal effects went to auction. The
Andersons ended up selling everything but their most practical
possessions. Even Eliza’s family Bible went on the block. Fortunately
Mrs. Banning Norton, a family friend, bought it and shipped it on
to New York. On Friday, September 27, Charles Anderson rode into
town, where he met with Confederate general
Henry H. Sibley, who
urged him to leave by stage for New Orleans the following Tuesday.
Sibley gave Anderson till ten o’clock the following morning to decide.
When Charles returned home, he found
Kitty so sick that she was
unable to sit up. She had malaria.
²

Kitty suffered through chills and night sweats. Since she was
unable to travel by stage, the family opted to leave in wagons for
Matamoros, Mexico. There they could catch a steamship and
eventually make it to the North. Despite Eliza’s objections, the family
was persuaded to depart on Sunday. Their escorts, two members of
Judge Thomas J. Devine’s jury, were leaving that day for Brownsville,
Texas. That port town was 278 miles away, just across the river from
Matamoros. Anderson purchased the fine ambulance of former U.S.
Army major
James Longstreet so that his wife and daughters could
ride during the day and sleep comfortably at night. They went off to
an uncertain future.

The family was detained in town as close friends said their
goodbyes. Most of the paroled Union officers turned out. Kitty’s fiancé,
Will Jones, packed the wagon with extra comforts for the road.
Melinda, the family’s twenty-year-old black servant, was in tears
as she begged Eliza to take her with them. She had been freed by
Anderson just days before. Once the family fled the state, Melinda
was abducted and sold back into slavery. They finally departed San
Antonio around eleven o’clock. As the Andersons followed the course
of the lovely river, passing several missions along the way, they gazed
backwards. Their hearts sank as the town slowly vanished.

The little band made twenty-five miles that day.
Edward Gallagher
and
Robert McCarty followed them at first but soon passed, as their
mules were stronger and their loads lighter. After an hour, they
crossed the Salado River and bade farewell to several of their Mexican
friends. The roads were heavy with sand. The Andersons could not
catch up with their fellow travelers by nightfall, so they made camp
by the roadside. They passed their first evening as refugees
uneasily. Kitty and Eliza awoke in the middle of the night to the sound
of horses. They were afraid that bandits had come to rob them, as
some miscreants in town had threatened to take their auction money.
Thankfully, the riders passed and the Andersons rose to breakfast
Monday morning relieved if not completely refreshed. The party left
early in the morning for the second day of their planned journey.

The Anderson family had been back on the road only four or five
miles when they observed soldiers riding toward them. As they drew
close to the wagon, the column split in two and filed off on either
side of the emigrants. Once surrounded, Anderson asked Lieutenant
Arthur K. Leigh if he had seen their escorts. “They are about three
and a half miles beyond,” replied the officer. “Would you be able to
return to San Antonio?” he asked. “I object particularly and prefer to
go on and catch up with our company,” replied Anderson. Leigh
informed him that they had orders to bring him back. Anderson
maintained his poise throughout the exchange, stating that he could not
imagine why he should be molested in this way. “Well, Felix,” he
finally said to his driver, “Turn around. We shall go back.” Turning to
Leigh, Anderson added: “I assure you, if it were possible against such
odds, I would resist such a rascally procedure.” As the soldiers and
their captives returned to town, Anderson looked for opportunities
to escape. This might have been easily accomplished as they passed
through the thick chaparral, but he feared for the fate of his family
should he attempt it.

When the party stopped for dinner, Anderson pretended to make
coffee while he burned letters and other papers that might
implicate his Union friends. He tried to remove a thorn from a hobbling
mule and was rewarded with a kick, followed by a bite from his dog
for the same mercies. “Well this
is
Anderson luck!” he exclaimed.
Despite his misfortunes, Anderson retained his sense of humor. As
they neared San Antonio, however, his mood changed. Leigh had
ridden forward to inform McCulloch of his successful mission. Upon
his return, the Confederate lieutenant informed Anderson that if he
agreed not to leave the city, he would be given a parole and liberty of
movement throughout the town. “I refuse to take parole for an inch
of space or a moment of time!” Anderson exclaimed. The women
were allowed to go wherever they pleased, but they preferred to stay
with the prisoner.
³

Arriving in San Antonio Monday evening, soldiers took the
Andersons to the Menger House and placed them in the hotel’s finest
rooms. Guards monitored the doors and did not allow the prisoner
contact with any of his friends. The soldiers confiscated the family’s
baggage, allowing access to it only by the women under the
watchful eyes of Lieutenant George W. Balzer. The family spent the next
three days locked in the Menger House hotel.
Eliza and her daughters
refused to take meals at the public table downstairs, as they were
concerned that any contact with their friends might put them in
danger too. Confederate colonel
Dr. Phillip N. Luckett and
Presley J.
Edwards came to visit the Andersons on the first day of their
captivity and were turned away by the guards.
Will Jones, Kitty’s fiancé,
would not be deterred. He succeeded in visiting the women each day
of their confinement. It was cold comfort.

The Andersons woke early on Tuesday morning and awaited their
fate. At about half past nine, three officers called for Charles and
escorted him down to the vacant room where the family’s baggage was
stored. Captain D. C. Stith, Major William T. Mechling, and Lieutenant
Leigh each questioned the prisoner in turn. Anderson opened all the
trunks and unpacked every article. They confiscated all of his money
save one hundred dollars and all of his personal papers. Anderson was
alarmed. “Some of the money was mine,” Eliza protested. “And some
mine,” Kitty added. Such remonstrations were pointless. Anderson
asked his wife if she really thought that McCulloch would recognize
her auction proceeds of three hundred dollars for the piano and three
hundred dollars for her carriage. “Yes,” replied Eliza, “they have no
right to take it from me nor will not.” Eliza and Kitty also worried
that the soldiers would try to take the money they had sewn into their
clothing. What was clearly illegal in peacetime had little bearing on
the actions of local authorities in a time of civil war.

After dinner, Anderson spent the afternoon being further
interrogated downstairs. In the evening, he was allowed to see close friend
Presley Edwards for a few minutes. Eliza still refused to see a steady
stream of friends who called at Menger House. Kitty received a
handful of friends Tuesday night, including her loyal beau Will. Perhaps
tomorrow would be better, she prayed. By the next morning, however,
her hopes were dashed.
Kitty resolved to be quiet and cheerful, but
early Wednesday morning her mother came back to their room with
tears in her eyes. Anderson had decided that the rest of the family
should leave him in Texas and go north. Eliza did not agree and tried
to convince him otherwise, but his mind was made up. McCulloch
finally informed Anderson that he was considered “an alien enemy
and a prisoner of war.” No formal charges had been brought, but it
was clear to all that the prisoner was not going anywhere.

Luckett was finally allowed to see Anderson, and he began
carrying letters back and forth from
McCulloch. Anderson sent word to
the colonel that he wished his family to embark on their journey, so
McCulloch arranged for
Lieutenant Leigh to escort them the
following day. He suggested that his friend, Cuban lawyer
Jose Augustin
Quintero, should also accompany them to Brownsville. Quintero
called on the family later in the day. Kitty found him polite and
charming. She did not suspect that he was a Confederate spy.

Anderson’s missives to McCulloch became increasingly combative.
These proceedings were illegal by any civilized standard, he declared.
He had been denied the privilege of facing his accuser. He could not
be both a citizen of Texas and an alien. Martial law had not been
declared. Anderson insisted he be remanded to Brownsville, where
the Confederate States Court was in session. When again offered
parole, the prisoner replied, “I wouldn’t give my parole for one
minute to save your soul from Hell!” Anderson received his last letter
from his captor on Thursday. McCulloch wrote that it was his duty
to arrest Anderson. “As your former mild and courteous letters, and
the appeals of your friends, have not been able to arouse my personal
sympathies,” McCulloch wrote, “you certainly will not expect me
to be so unmanly as to permit your harsh, bitter, and unwarranted
allusions to myself to excite the baser passion of the heart  .  .  .  I will
exercise all the kindness and courtesy towards you that I can do safely,
or that you—in your evident desire to make yourself a martyr—will
permit.”
⁴