Athanasios Souliotis-Nikolaidis and

Greek Irredentism: A Life in the

Shadows John Athanasios Mazis
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Athanasios Souliotis-­
Nikolaidis and Greek
Irredentism
Athanasios Souliotis-­
Nikolaidis and Greek
Irredentism
A Life in the Shadows

John Athanasios Mazis

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Names: Mazis, John Athanasios, author.
Title: Athanasios Souliotis-Nikolaidis and Greek irredentism : a life in
the shadows / John Athanasios Mazis.
Description: Lanham : Lexington Books, [2022] | Includes bibliographical
references and index. | Summary: “This study examines the life of
Athanasios Souliotis-Nikolaidis (1878-1945), a Greek military officer
and undercover agent in the Ottoman Empire. In particular, the author
examines his role in Greek irredentism, his ideology, and his other
connections to Ion Dragoumis”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021054943 (print) | LCCN 2021054944 (ebook) | ISBN
9781793634443 (cloth) | ISBN 9781793634450 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Souliōtēs-Nikolaidēs, Athanasios, 1878-1945. |
Irredentism—Greece—History—20th century. |
Greece—History—1917-1944. | Dragoumēs, Iōn, 1878-1920—Friends and
associates. | Greece. Stratos. Geniko Epiteleio—Biography. | Organōsis
Thessalonikēs (Thessalonikē, Greece—History. | Intelligence
officers—Greece—Biography.
Classification: LCC DF832.S68 M39 2022 (print) | LCC DF832.S68 (ebook) |
DDC 949.507092 [B]—dc23/eng/20211109
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021054943
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021054944

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of

American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper
for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.
To all those who gave so much for Greece, and received so little in return.
 Contents

Acknowledgments ix
Introduction 1
1 The End of the Line 5
2 Greece at the Dawn of the Twentieth Century 9
3 The Ordinary Life of an Obscure Army Officer 43
4 Cloak and Dagger in the Balkans 51
5 Cloak and Dagger in Constantinople 75
6 Friends and Intellectual Partners 97
7 The Life of Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis 129
8 Last Services Rendered 151
9 Some Final Thoughts 165
Appendix: Further Reading 171
Bibliography 175
Index 183
About the Author 195

vii
 Acknowledgments

The old stereotype of the scholar working alone, cut off from the world and
without help from anyone, is not, at least in my case, true. During the long
period of time it took to research and write this book, I became indebted to
a number of individuals and institutions whose contributions were of great
help to me. I am more than happy to express my gratitude for their sup-
port here; needless to say, any shortcomings one finds in this work are my
responsibility.
I would like to start with my thanks to my home institution, Hamline Uni-
versity. Many thanks to my colleagues at the History Department of Hamline
University for accommodating my teaching schedule, which allowed me to
travel, research, and write. The staff of Hamline’s Bush Memorial Library
helped me while I was compiling many of the secondary sources for my bib-
liography. Compiling primary sources required a number of trips to Greece;
such trips were possible with the help of Dean’s Grants from Hamline’s
College of Liberal Arts, Hanna Grants for Faculty Research and Publication,
and the Hamline University Humanities Grant. My thanks also to the dean of
Hamline’s College of Liberal Arts, Dr. Marcela Kostihova, for her support.
Finally, many thanks to Dr. Fayneese Miller, president of Hamline Univer-
sity, whose personal intervention was instrumental in securing a sabbatical
leave, which was crucial in bringing this work into fruition.
My research in Greece became possible through the cooperation of the
staff of various libraries at the National and Kapodistrian University of Ath-
ens. The Souliotis-­Nikolaidis papers are housed at the Gennadius Library of
the American School of Classical Studies at Athens; I would like to thank
the staff of that institution’s library, the archivist, Dr. Natalia Vogeikoff-­
Brogan, the research archivist, Dr. Leda Costaki, and especially the reference
archivist, Dr. Eleftheria Daleziou. Finally, I am indebted to the late I. K.
ix
x Acknowledgments

Mazarakis-­Ainian, who arranged for me to receive, through the good offices

of Dodoni Publishers, the three-­volume diaries of his father-­in-­law Philip
Dragoumis.
Also, I would like to thank the hard-working people at Lexington Books
whose diligent and high quality work made the publication of this book
possible.
Over the years I have been the lucky beneficiary of support, advice, and
encouragement from a number of individuals. I would like to thank two
fellow historians and friends, all three of us graduates of the University of
Minnesota’s doctoral program and advisees of Professor Theofanis G. Stav-
rou. Lucien Frary, professor at Rider University, and Theophilus Prousis,
professor emeritus, University of North Florida, encouraged me to continue
my research in this direction and became a sounding board for my ideas and
frustrations.
During numerous and lengthy research visits to Athens, stretching back to
my graduate school days, I have been the lucky recipient of the hospitality of
Brigadier General Panayiotis Strantzalis (Hellenic Air Force retired) and his
wife, Helen. Their superb hospitality has meant the world to me as it made
my job possible and easier. Words alone cannot adequately describe my debt
to them.
It is only fair, albeit a bit unorthodox, to take the time here to thank some-
one I never met but who was of paramount importance to my work. I would
like to bring to the attention of the reader an individual who was instrumental
in keeping the memory of Souliotis-­Nikolaidis alive. Without that individual
all the studies on Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s activities and thoughts, including
this one, would not have been possible. Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was
unlucky in many ways. His professional life did not unfold as he would have
liked it to, his dreams for the future of his country and his people did not
come true, and the best friend he ever had met an untimely and tragic death.
Yet, with all his bad luck, Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was very lucky indeed when
it came to his marriage. Sofia Soulioti became the guardian and champion
of her husband’s legacy. In his handwritten last will and testament, dated
November 29, 1943, Souliotis-­Nikolaidis entrusted all his papers to his wife
with the wish that she and only she would be in charge, allowing or deny-
ing access to scholars as she saw fit, and seeing if a book or books could be
written from the notes he left behind.1 Sofia Soulioti was a worthy executor
of her husband’s will, working diligently to make possible the publication
of a few important articles and a book while she was still alive, and another
important book completed after her death. My work would not have been
possible without the publications she allowed to happen. But Sofia Soulioti
went above and beyond the call of duty; she painstakingly copied in nice, neat
 Acknowledgments xi

handwriting all of her husband’s notes—his handwriting was at times atro-

cious—and presented her accurate copy next to his original, page numbers
included, so the researcher could have an easier time! For the copying alone,
she has my gratitude!
During the time it took me to research and write this book, life did not
stand still. Besides the mundane, everyday events, there were important
milestones in my life. My daughters, Misia and Zoe, graduated from college,
moved out of the family home, and started their own adult lives. The death
of my father, expected but traumatic all the same, became another signpost
in my personal life. We even experienced historic, extraordinary, earth-
shattering events such as the COVID-19 pandemic and the demands for major
changes in policing following riots all over the world, which originated in my
hometown of Minneapolis-­St. Paul. Through good or bad times, the constant
support of my wife, Holly, remained a steady and calming presence in my
life. Thanking her once more here is but a small indication of my debt to her.

St. Paul, MN, May 2021.

NOTE
1. Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis Papers. Gennadius Library Archives, American
School of Classical Studies in Athens 25/III,2 68a.
 Introduction

This book is the result, in some respects the continuation, of my earlier

work on Ion Dragoumis. When I started that work, the name of Athanasios
Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was completely unknown to me. This surprised me, as
I have been studying Modern Greek history for most of my life. Naturally, I
cannot remember everything I ever read, and I am sure I encountered many
minor historical figures whose names I have forgotten since. At the same
time, the name Souliotis-­Nikolaidis is rather distinct; unlike names in the
English-­speaking world, one does not encounter many hyphenated Greek
names. As it turns out, my experience is not unique; as far as I can tell
from asking non-­academic friends and acquaintances in Greece, the name
Souliotis-­Nikolaidis is unknown to the general public. While his close friend
and collaborator Ion Dragoumis is widely known—there are streets and even
a municipality named after him, as well as books written about his life and
ideas, documentaries, and even a television series dealing with his life—
Souliotis-­Nikolaidis remains fairly anonymous. There are a number of rea-
sons for that: Ion Dragoumis came from the upper strata of Greek society; he
was the scion of a well-­known family that counted politicians and men of let-
ters among its members. Ion’s father, Stephen, as an example, was for many
years a member of parliament, many times a cabinet minister, and eventually
the prime minister of Greece. In comparison, Souliotis-­Nikolaidis came from
a respectable but obscure middle-­class family of modest means. Additionally,
Ion Dragoumis became a celebrated man of letters, high-ranking diplomat,
and an elected member of the Greek parliament, with a very public and rather
scandalous personal life. In contrast, Souliotis-­Nikolaidis remained a low-
to middle-­ranking army officer whose work was, and remains to this day,
largely unnoticed. Yet, as I came to realize, the work of this obscure man was
anything but ordinary and deserves wider recognition.
1
2 Introduction

The first time I encountered the name Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was in a refer-

ence about him being a friend of Dragoumis. Initially I did not pay much
attention, but soon it became clear that Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was much more
than a friend; he and Dragoumis met when they were in their late twenties
but became fast friends indeed, the closest friend each other ever had. The
two became close collaborators in both the actions they took in the Otto-
man Empire in pursuit of Greek irredentism, but also in formulating ideas
about the future of Greece and Hellenism. At first glance, Dragoumis’s
ideas appear to be the dominant element in that collaboration. Closer study,
however, reveals that Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was an independent thinker with
a pragmatic streak in his way of thinking, something generally lacking in
the ideas of his friend. Just as was the case with their ideas, the actions of
Dragoumis in the Ottoman Empire made him the focus of attention then
and today. At the same time, the actions of Souliotis-­Nikolaidis, while not
as well publicized, turn out to be important in their own right. Additionally,
while the two worked in close collaboration, Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was often
exercised his own initiative working independently from his friend. In short,
while a close collaborator of Ion Dragoumis, Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis
was both an independent thinker and actor. Since Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was
never as prominent as Dragoumis, his work has not received the attention
it deserves. He published a few books during his lifetime, but an account of
his actions, based on his papers, was published only after his death. After
reading such sources, I came to the conclusion that Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s life
and work deserve recognition. While his work on behalf of Hellenism was
mostly undercover, its contribution to Greek irredentism was, in my estima-
tion, greater than that of most other actors. At the same time, his ideas, often
attributed to his friend Ion Dragoumis, were important in their own right and
reflect the ideological currents of Europe at the turn of the twentieth century
and the later, post-­WWI period.
The end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth, the
time period when Souliotis-­Nikolaidis came of age, has been of interest to
me for many years. My place of employment, Hamline University, is a small
liberal arts college with a four-­member History Department. Thus, my col-
leagues and I need to offer a variety of classes, above and beyond our nar-
row areas of expertise, to better serve the needs of our students. As a result,
over the years, I have offered courses in Russian and Greek history, general
European history, and the history of the First and Second World Wars, among
others. In the process I have had to explain to my students, and thus think
and rethink myself, the impact of political and social ideas which developed
in the nineteenth century and manifested themselves in earnest in the twen-
tieth. Issues such as Greek nationalism and irredentism were not isolated
 Introduction 3

developments, but rather, they fit the general trends in European thought and
politics. Alliances and diplomatic maneuvers between the Balkan states were
but a microcosm of what was transpiring on a much larger scale in Europe at
the time between the various Great Powers. Even questions that appear at first
glance to be uniquely applicable to Greece turn out to be of general interest.
In the late nineteenth century, some Greek intellectuals started questioning
the place of Greece on the East-­West axis. Was Greece a Western country?
Should it be? If Greece were to be located intellectually in the East, what
would be the implications? What was Modern Greece’s role as the inheri-
tor of an ancient civilization? How could Greece expand and incorporate all
of the historic Greek lands under one state? Should Greece be following a
“Western” or an “Eastern” model? Questions of a similar nature were asked
by European thinkers at the same time. It might have been Russians trying to
locate their country on the East-­West axis, Germans attempting to discover
their ancient roots, or Italians aiming for the unification of the peninsula. A
number of Greek intellectuals and politicians attempted to answer questions
and issues such as the above. Some contributed through their writings and
ideas, others through their actions. Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis was one
of the rare breed who contributed with both word and deed.
In a historical twist, one of those that make history appear as if it is cyclical
in nature, Greece faced at the start of the twenty-­first century some similar
issues as it did in the early twentieth. Just as the end of the nineteenth century
presented Greece, and the world, with a new set of opportunities and prob-
lems, so did the end of the twentieth. The end of the Cold War opened new
opportunities for a democratic and prosperous future for all, while Greece’s
connection with the West—as a member of NATO and the European Union—
made its position secure. At that point a major downturn in the Greek economy
brought about major negative effects for Greece and the Greeks. All of a
sudden, the exuberance of the successful Olympic Games of 2004 gave way
to the financial crisis of 2010. Greece was able to weather the storm but not
before it was forced to lose part of its sovereignty (at least in financial terms)
to its Western allies/creditors/saviors. At that point the old questions reap-
peared; the same ones asked by, and attempted to be answered by, Athanasios
Souliotis-­Nikolaidis, Ion Dragoumis, and others a hundred years before. It is
for that reason, among others, that I believe the story of Souliotis-­Nikolaidis
is most compelling and deserves to come to broader attention. In that respect,
my current work closes the loop that I started with the examination of Ion
Dragoumis’s life. The two friends were not just kindred spirits and close col-
laborators, but also products and actors of the European and Greek historical
evolutions.
The purpose of this work, then, is to present both facets of Souliotis-­
Nikolaidis’s life: to examine his ideas and their evolution over the years, as
4 Introduction

well as to look at the more obscure and secret part of his service to his coun-
try. I will examine Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s ideas and put them in the broader
context of similar ideologies popular both in Greece and Europe at that time.
More important than his ideas, I will present a critical study of his undercover
work on behalf of the Greek state in the Ottoman province of Macedonia, as
well as his actions in Constantinople, the center of the Ottoman Empire. This
last part is, in my view, fascinating and reveals much about the man’s charac-
ter and capabilities. Indeed, Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s undercover work could be
the basis for a great book of fiction of the spy/action-­adventure genre.
My work starts with the last important episode of Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s
life, just a few weeks before his death. This will introduce the protagonist to
the reader and set the stage to explain why this ordinary man was anything
but what he seemed to be. From that short introduction I will proceed with an
overview of Modern Greek history from the Greek War of Independence in
1821 to the establishment of the Greek state in 1830 and then the trials and
tribulations of Modern Greece in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
This chapter will put my work in its proper historical context and help the
reader to better understand Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s world, and how his life was
shaped by contemporary events and ideas prominent both in Greece and in
Europe. My next chapter will follow the early life of Souliotis-­Nikolaidis;
here I will focus only on the publicly known part of his life. That will include
his upbringing and family background and his ordinary career as a low-­level
infantry officer of the Hellenic Army. The next two chapters will delve
into Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s less-known but fascinating life as an undercover
agent of Greece in Ottoman Macedonia and Constantinople. In this part the
reader will be presented with Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s undercover work and
accomplishments. I will devote a chapter to his, and Dragoumis’s ideas for
the future of Greece and Hellenism, ideas which motivated and shaped his
actions. The next two chapters in the book will follow Souliotis-­Nikolaidis’s
life past his days of undercover adventures and shed some light on his activi-
ties as an army officer and public figure. Most of the information presented
is unknown today even in Greece save for among a small group of historians.
A note on transliterations, dates, and translations: I utilize the better-­known
English transliterations of Greek words. When it comes to proper names, I
opt either for the transliteration most commonly used or, when known, the
one preferred by the individual in question. Until 1923 Greece used the
“old” Julian calendar which by that time was thirteen days behind the “new”
Gregorian one. In the text, when referring to a pre-1923 date I use the Julian
calendar; after 1923 I use the Gregorian. Finally, all translations from Greek
into English in the text were made by me.
 Chapter One

The End of the Line

March in Greece is an in-­between kind of month. Most often it is quite warm

and makes one feel that summer is just around the corner. At times though,
it can be wet and cold, enough to make spring appear to be still far away. In
March of 1945, an old man was lying in bed in a sanatorium just outside of
Athens. He had been a resident for over two years having moved there at the
time of the German occupation of the country during the Second World War.
By now the Germans had left, the war was almost over and so it seemed the
life of the gentleman. The sanatorium was not among the better ones in the
city. It was clean and adequate, but there were no luxuries. The patients were
housed in small rooms with a bed, a nightstand, a couple of chairs, a closet. It
was not a place for the indigent, but neither was it the institution of choice for
the Athenian elite. The patient in question was an old gentleman, in his late
sixties. He must have been a strong and handsome man in his youth; indeed,
old photographs depict a tall, dark man in an army lieutenant’s uniform with
a military mustache of the type favored by officers at the turn of the twentieth
century, strong jaw, and dark, piercing eyes. That was then; now the long-­
retired lieutenant colonel had aged, and other photographs record how time
had taken its toll. He was still tall but very thin, his skin had turned pale, and
his mustache had turned white. His frail body could not stand and walk for
too long, so he spent most of his time in bed. Instead of a uniform he wore
pajamas and sometimes, when out of bed, or posing for a picture, an old suit
which had seen better days. But the eyes were still there, piercing, fearless,
looking straight ahead.
Since the sanatorium was at the outskirts of Athens, and public transporta-
tion was still unreliable so soon after the German occupation, the old colonel
had few visitors.1 The only regular one was his wife. They had married late in
life and there were no children; in her presence the tough old soldier softened;
5
6 Chapter One

Figure 1.1. Athanasios Souliotis-Nikolaidis in the sanatorium.

American School of Classical Studies at Athens, Archives, Athanasios Souliotis Papers

theirs was a love match.2 They had lived through good times and bad, but the
last few years had been challenging to say the least. Living on his army pen-
sion was fine but not great during peacetime; but the hyperinflation of the war
impoverished them together with most Greeks. They moved from Athens to
a small island where life was cheaper and still could barely make ends meet.
Finally, the illness that seemed to bother him for decades flared up again and
this time there was no easy fix. He moved to the sanatorium and he must have
known after a while that he was never coming out again alive. Indeed, as he
noted in a tiny notebook that he had to write his thoughts: “I think…that I
see visions of the dead in the day or night sky.”3 During the last year or so
of his life his constant worry was not about his health and impending death
but for the well-­being of his wife after he was gone. A lieutenant colonel’s
widow’s pension was not enough for the kind of life he would have liked her
to have had after he was gone. There was a time, many years before, when
he tried to appeal to the powers that be and increase his pension. He made
his case to the Ministry of Defense, submitted reports and other documents
to buttress his request. He even enlisted the help of friends, retired officers
like him, some of whom he knew from as far back in time as when they were
all young cadets together in the Greek Military Academy. Political and other
 The End of the Line 7

considerations caused his appeal to be denied. Now, many years later he was
worried that his death would be catastrophic for his wife. She, a respectable
middle-­class woman, the daughter of a well-­known poet, would sink to the
lower socioeconomic strata.
Suddenly, out of the blue, there was a welcome development: an unan-
nounced and unexpected visit by a small committee from the Greek Ministry
of Defense. There, in the small, cold room of a second-­rate sanatorium,
retired Lieutenant Colonel Athanasios Souliotis was informed that he had
just been promoted in retirement to the rank of major general! The newly
minted general was delighted for his personal vindication and for the fact
that a general’s pension would be enough for his wife after he was gone. The
timing was impeccable; just a few days later, even a few days before the king
of Greece officially ratified his promotion, a formality which did not change
the fact, Major General Souliotis died; he was sixty-­seven years old.
The story has as good an ending as one could expect under the circum-
stances; at the same time there remain unanswered questions. Who was
Athanasios Souliotis, and what had he done to merit such a jump in promo-
tion from lieutenant colonel to major general?4 His file from the Department
of Army Archives, Army General Staff, is of little use. There are hardly any
notes other than his name, place and year of birth, and name of father. The
rest of the information recorded is brief and routine. He was commissioned
as second lieutenant in 1900 and was promoted to first lieutenant in 1907,
captain in 1912, major in 1914, and lieutenant colonel in 1917. The promo-
tions were in regular intervals, a bit more rapid when Greece was at war from
1912 on, but there is nothing here to denote particular merit; indeed, many
an officer of little distinction received such wartime promotions. He was also
the recipient of some medals and decorations for his contribution/participa-
tion in various wars and patriotic activities but no decoration for valor or
other extraordinary actions.5 Souliotis retired in 1922 at his request and at the
time he was deemed to be “unfit for general military duties” due to reasons
of health.6 During his time in the army Souliotis did not accomplish much;
as a lieutenant he fulfilled routine garrison duties and took extensive leave
of absence for reasons of health. During the Balkan Wars (1912–1913) and
then in the First World War, which Greece entered officially in the summer
of 1917, his work was away from the actual fighting in various staff/desk
appointments. He never commanded a military unit above platoon level in
time of peace and never led men to battle, let alone did so with distinction,
in time of war. What had he done then to deserve his general’s stars? It turns
out this is the story of a seemingly ordinary man and mediocre army officer,
but one who in reality led an adventurous and extraordinary life. Souliotis
was an active participant in and often close to the highest centers of powers
8 Chapter One

during some of Greece’s most historic times. His life of adventure deserves
to be examined as his life story was of the type that Hollywood uses as inspi-
ration, often labeled as being “based on a true story,” for some of its action-­
adventure and spy movies.

NOTES

1. The sanatorium was in the area of Melissia, today a thriving and prosperous
suburb of Athens, but at that time almost a rural backwater. See Athanasios Souliotis-­
Nikolaidis, Ο Μακεδονικός Αγών: Η «Οργάνωσις Θεσσαλονίκης» 1906-1908
Απομνημονεύματα (The Struggle for Macedonia: “The Thessaloniki Organization”
1906–1908 Memoires) (Thessaloniki: Institute for Balkan Studies, 1959), ιβ’.
2. Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis Papers, Gennadius Library Archives, American
School of Classical Studies in Athens, 25/III,66 1. (Henceforth Souliotis-­Nikolaidis
Archives).
3. Souliotis-­Nikolaidis Archives, 25/III, 65. The entry to the little notebook is
dated October 9, 1943, not too long after Souliotis entered the sanatorium.
4. Throughout this work I will use the surname by which he was most commonly
known at a particular period of time. Roughly speaking, Athanasios Souliotis 1878–
1906, Athanasios Souliotis, but also Nikolaidis as needed, 1906–1912, and mostly
Athanasios Souliotis-­Nikolaidis 1912–1945. While he used the hyphenated name to
sign published articles and letters, he never changed his name officially, and all offi-
cial papers, including that of his promotions, refer to him as Souliotis. Additionally,
as is the common Greek practice, while his official first name was Athanasios, friends
and relatives called him Thanasi.
5. Souliotis-­Nikolaidis Archives, 25/I,2 8–12.
6. Athanasios Souliotis, Γενικό Επιτελείο Στρατού, Υπηρεσία Στρατιωτικών
Αρχείων (Hellenic Army General Staff, Department of Army Archives), File
072.2/27/1350086, 64.
 Chapter Two

Greece at the Dawn of the

Twentieth Century

THE GREEKS BEFORE MODERN GREECE

In March 2021 Greece celebrated the 200th anniversary of the start of the
Greek War of Independence and the creation of Modern Greece. The fact
that Greece is only 200 years old might come as a surprise to most of the
world which associates Greece with ancient political, military, and artistic
glories. Greece and the Greek people are indeed an ancient culture existing
in the same general area of Southeast Europe for millennia. Additionally,
at some time or another Greek colonies, trade, and cultural exchanges were
ubiquitous in the Mediterranean basin and the Black Sea littoral. Such facts
and general information as well as ancient Greek myths might be well-­known
among the general public; what is not as well known is that for most of the
long history of the Greeks there was no such entity as one unified Greek
state.1 Ancient Greece was not a state but rather a number of city states and
territories which, while recognizing a kinship, were often at war with each
other. Those states had different political systems ranging from democratic
Athens to oligarchic Sparta and everything in between. Eventually, the geo-
graphic area known as Greece submitted to the power of Rome and remained
a province of that empire for centuries. After the empire split into two, the
area of Greece found itself an important part of the Eastern Roman Empire,
which became known as the Byzantine Empire. During that evolution the
character of Greek culture underwent a number of profound changes. In the
political realm, the Greeks lost both their autonomy of action, being subject
people, and their preference for small and often democratic states. The other
important change occurred as the Greeks, under pressure from the Byzantine
state, abandoned their ancient religion and eventually embraced Christianity.

9
10 Chapter Two

Naturally, when the Christian Church divided between Western Catholic

and Eastern Orthodox, finalized in A.D. 1054, the Greeks followed the lat-
ter. Greece’s major contribution to the Byzantine Empire was its language
and culture.2 Starting as an almost identical twin of its Western counterpart,
the Eastern/Byzantine Empire morphed and the Greek culture replaced the
Latin with the Greek language becoming the lingua franca. Nevertheless, it
would be a mistake to call the Byzantine Empire a Greek state; it was rather
a multiethnic entity where Greek language and culture, as it had evolved
from its ancient roots, were dominant. While knowledge of the language
was key to high office, such offices were open to all and even some of the
emperors such as Leo III the Isaurian and Leo IV the Khazar, to mention just
two examples, were often members of various non-­Greek ethnic groups. The
Byzantine era came to an end in 1453 when the Ottoman Turks, already in
possession of most of what used to be the Byzantine Empire, conquered the
city of Constantinople itself.3
The Ottoman period, known as Turkokratia in Greek, has been portrayed
often as Greece’s dark ages with the Greek people being oppressed and per-
secuted in every which way. This picture is not corresponding to reality. The
Ottoman period lasted, in some parts of what is present-­day Greece, for up
to 500 years and the conditions changed again and again. Early on, when the
Ottoman Empire was at its height, the governing system was rather fair, and
the average inhabitant of Greece had hardly any reasons to complain. The
tax system was fair, law and order prevailed in the land, and people were
left free to live, work, and worship as they chose.4 As time went by, and the
empire declined, conditions changed. Local Turkish and non-­Turkish elites
took advantage of looser control from the center to enrich themselves at the
expense of the people. Misgoverning and high taxes became the norm; cor-
ruption reigned supreme. But even under those conditions the average Greek
was not governed any worse than many of his Western counterparts living
under feudalism.5 While the majority of the people were indeed poor and
uneducated there was a Greek elite which was able to assert themselves and
gain position and wealth. Some educated Greeks who were merchants or lay
functionaries of the Orthodox Church, took advantage of the weaknesses
of the Ottoman educational system and became high officials of the state.
Utilizing their knowledge of foreign languages and their skills as Church
administrators some came to occupy such important positions as high func-
tionaries of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, with the position of the Grand
Dragoman, effectively the Undersecretary for Foreign Affairs, being occu-
pied by Greeks for over 100 years.6 Others became governors of some Otto-
man provinces with Wallachia and Moldavia in present-­day Romania and the
island of Samos having Greek governors for generations. Another category
 Greece at the Dawn of the Twentieth Century 11

of successful Greek elite was the one that developed in the Greek populated
provinces of the empire. Those were usually prominent local families which
were able to amass large landholdings. Since the Ottoman authorities allowed
self-­government at the local level, wealthy Greek landowners became promi-
nent in local government as well. They were appointed or recognized as such
by the authorities, and came to dominate local political, economic, and social
life. Next to the two elites described above there was also a mercantile one.
The Greeks, and other Balkan people, have a long tradition in trade and many
of them continued to prosper under the Ottomans. They were important in the
import/export trade; and many invested in crafts and cottage industry. Others
became involved in the ownership of merchant vessels carrying goods back
and forth all over the Mediterranean world and the Black Sea. Such mer-
chants developed extensive networks with other Greeks and non-­Greeks alike
throughout Greece, the Ottoman Empire, Russia, and often Western Europe
as well.7 The final Greek elite emerging at this time was the one associated
with the Orthodox Church. In an ironic turn of events the Orthodox Church,
a partner of the state in the old Byzantine Christian Empire, continued occu-
pying the same place in the Ottoman Muslim Empire as well. The Orthodox
Church was given great leeway in dealing with its flock and as a result the
various positions of the Church, either clerical or lay, became positions of
power and were sought after. The four elites described above were working
side by side, often cooperating, and sometimes competing with each other. It
was not unusual for an individual, and in time a number of individuals from
the same family, to move from Church administration to the state bureaucracy
while having interests in trade and influence at the local level. In order to
fulfill its various functions, the Greek elite needed to be educated, and they
often pursued that education at Western institutions of higher learning. In
the process many Greeks became exposed to the political and social ideas
of Europe and they in turn transmitted such knowledge back home. In that
respect the political and financial elite of the Greek people became the intel-
lectual one as well.8
The long era of Ottoman domination contributed to cutting off Greece,
and most of the Balkans and parts of Eastern Europe as well, from the West.
As Western societies and political systems evolved, the East was left out
of the process. Even such monumental developments as the Renaissance,
the Reformation, and the Enlightenment did not appear in the East. At the
same time, it would be inaccurate to claim that the influence of such events
was unknown. To be sure, the average Greek, poor and uneducated, was too
busy trying to make a living to pay attention. Even many of the educated
elite remained disinterested either because they were also busy living their
lives or, especially among conservative circles in the Church, because the
12 Chapter Two

messages from the West were too radical and thus unwelcome. Neverthe-
less, the Greek elites did come in contact with western ideas and cultural
currents and became a conduit to bring them to the Greek lands. Thus, some
of the early artistic movements in Greece are found in the areas controlled
by various Italian Republics. In the 1500s and 1600s the literary movement
of the so-­called Cretan Renaissance was a direct result of, and in connec-
tion with, western trends.9 That cross pollination continued in the eighteenth
century as the political ideas of the European Enlightenment were brought to
Greece; here they were discussed and examined and gave birth to a similar
movement that has come to be known as the Neohellenic Enlightenment.
This movement, more political than artistic in nature, found fertile ground
in Greece. The educated Greek elite, many of them living or visiting the
West, embraced the political slogans fashionable at the time. The quest for
new and more democratic political systems, individual and communal free-
dom, were quickly accepted. Some went even so far as to embrace the idea
of secularism, something foreign to the Greek society of the Byzantine and
Ottoman eras. The American War of Independence and the French Revolu-
tion provided new hope and stimuli for many Greeks. Even the Napoleonic
Wars, its complexities notwithstanding, appeared to promise a future where
the Greeks could be in charge of their own house, free from the by now
oppressive Ottoman control, and part of the modern community of Western
European nations.10

THE GREEK WAR OF INDEPENDENCE

In 1821 the Greek War of Independence exploded, at last or unexpectedly

depending on one’s sympathies. The war itself, lasting till 1829, has many
of the elements of an ancient Greek drama: heroes and villains, triumphs and
tragedies, and even, at the end during the most critical point, the appearance
of a type of deus ex machina.
The narrative of that war is a fairly simple one in general terms. The
Greeks, inspired by the European ideas which came out of the Enlighten-
ment and the French Revolution, revolted against their Ottoman overlords.
The revolution was planned and initially financed by Greeks living outside
of the Ottoman Empire as well as many of the Greek elites still cooperating
with the Ottoman authorities. Initially the Greeks scored some major suc-
cesses and the Ottoman authorities overreacted by massacring famous Greek
leaders as well as many common people. Reports of such excesses painted a
negative picture of the Ottomans in the European public opinion. To be fair,
the Greeks were not above committing terrible acts themselves but somehow
 Greece at the Dawn of the Twentieth Century 13

their misdeeds were swept under the rug.11 At that point the Greeks, as if they
wanted to prove that they were indeed descendants of their ancient ancestors,
started arguing among themselves and a civil war broke out, while the larger
war of independence was still going on. The Ottomans made a comeback
supported by the Egyptians, nominally their vassals, and by the late 1820s it
looked as if the Greek War of Independence would die down. It was at this
point that the aforementioned deus ex machina appeared to save the day for
the Greeks.12
When the war started the Ottoman authorities were not alone in opposing
it. This was only six years after Napoleon was finally defeated and the forces
of reaction were well entrenched throughout Europe. The Great Powers of
the day—the United Kingdom, France, Austria, Russia, and Prussia—did not
view revolutions of any kind favorably. Thus, all the powers condemned the
Greek revolt, even Russia which like the Greeks, followed Eastern Ortho-
doxy. The Greeks were viewed and were treated like brigands and pirates;
and recognition of their cause was not forthcoming. Even the well-­reported
massacres by the Ottomans were not enough to induce the official govern-
ments to act in a pro-­Greek way. It should be noted here that while the Great
Powers condemned the Greek revolt there were, even among official circles,
sympathetic voices. While the Great Powers were fearful of revolts, such
as the ones in Spain and Italy, some believed that the Greek one was an
exception due to the religious differences between the subject people and the
state.13 There was even a voice that combined idealism with pragmatism. Not
only were the Greeks right to revolt against an oppressive regime—noted in
an official memorandum by the Prussian historian and official of the Prussian
foreign ministry Friedrich Ancillon—but if the Great Powers did not act in
unison and help the Greeks the Russian tsar would do so unilaterally under
pressure from his people.14 Those voices though were unable to push the
Great Powers in a different direction. But while official Europe was hostile,
its public opinion embraced the Greek cause.
There were many reasons why European public opinion embraced the
Greek War of Independence. To a degree it was the reaction to the conser-
vative post-1815 regimes. After liberal revolts in Italy and Spain had failed
there was another opportunity to upset the conservative European order.
Many young people, typically more liberal than their elders, were drawn to
the Greek cause. Surprisingly, many military men, a class usually not known
for its revolutionary fervor, also embraced the Greek cause. Post–Napoleonic
European states had decreased the size of their armies and forced into retire-
ment many relatively young military officers. Most of them were deemed
to be too sympathetic to Napoleon or the French Revolution; now many of
them were looking for a good cause to bring them out of retirement. There
14 Chapter Two

was also an element of cultural superiority involved. By the early nineteenth

century, the Ottoman Empire had come to symbolize despotism, backward-
ness, barbarism. Expelling them from Europe, and freeing non-­Turkic, non-­
Muslim people in the process, was an attractive idea. Finally, from among
all the people of Europe the Greeks represented a special case worthy, it was
believed, of special consideration. The relationship between modern Greeks
and Europe had a parent/child dimension. Modern European thought and
culture is, to a large degree, the evolutionary product of ancient Greek civi-
lization.15 By the eighteenth century, European thinkers were well aware of
this point; by that time the modern descendants of ancient Greeks had sunk
to a low point. This was a development well-­known in the West as young
men of the upper classes visited Greece as part of their Grand Tour upon
graduation from institutes of higher learning. Those young men of privilege,
who in time would come to occupy important positions in the political, cul-
tural, and economic elite of their countries, could not help but notice how the
modern descendants of ancient Greeks were in a position of needing help.
If only the Europeans could help the descendants of the ancient Greeks free
themselves, they would pay back their intellectual debt; if only the modern
Greeks were freed from “Oriental Despotism” they could reverse course and
become the true intellectual heirs to the ancients. Both the Europeans and the
Greeks had something to prove and helping Greece liberate itself would help
prove it. In a short period of time the Greek War of Independence became
an international cause célébre. This resulted in, among others, the creation
of philhellenic committees all over Europe collecting money for what would
be called today humanitarian aid. At the same time hundreds of volunteers
went to Greece prepared to fight and die for the Greek cause. The case of the
cultural icon, Lord Byron is but the most famous of such examples.
Important as public sympathy and philhellenism were, they were not pow-
erful enough to induce the Great Powers of Europe to intervene in support
of the Greeks. What common culture, sympathy, and religion were not able
to accomplish became reality as a result of good old-fashioned self-­interest,
power politics, and the European balance of power.16 From the five European
Great Powers, two, Prussia and Austria, had few interests in the area and thus
allowed the other three to act in the lead. France had traditional commercial
and other interests in the Ottoman Empire, so it was interested in the out-
come of the Greek War of Independence. It became part of the three powers
that intervened but left most of the initiative to the other two. The Russians
were well aware that their traditional anti-­Ottoman policy made any move
they made suspect in the eyes of their allies/competitors. The new Russian
Emperor, since December 1825, Nicholas I, took his role as the secular leader
of Orthodox people seriously but being reactionary did not want to appear to
 Greece at the Dawn of the Twentieth Century 15

favor the Greek rebels. It was British interests and actions which, at the end
of the day, saved the day for the Greeks.
In 1823 the sudden death of Lord Castlereagh brought George Canning to
the helm of the British Foreign Office. The new minister had different views
from his predecessor on most issues including that of Greece. Today Can-
ning is hailed in Greece as a philhellene, streets and even a square in Athens
are named after him, but that was not his motivation. Canning was looking
to address immediate as well as long-term problems. The Greek rebels were
particularly effective in sea warfare. This is not surprising given the fact that
the Greeks have a long maritime tradition and that just before the revolu-
tion they had a rather sizable merchant fleet. That fleet was armed to thwart
pirates; and while their armament might not have been good enough to fight
the Royal Navy it was adequate to deal with the Ottoman one. Canning was
concerned that if the Greeks were to lose the war their fleet would turn to
piracy. The Eastern Mediterranean is dotted with about 3,000 islands, most
of them uninhabited, which could serve as cover for pirates. Britain, which
had major commercial interests in the area would suffer the most from pirate-­
infested waters. In the days before radar and satellites even the powerful Brit-
ish Navy could not dislodge small ships which could find cover in thousands
of deserted beaches. Clearly, some kind of understanding between the British
government and the Greek rebels was in order. Canning was also thinking
ahead. He believed that sooner rather than later Russia would intervene on
behalf of its Greek co-­religionists and help in the creation of an independent
Greek state. Such a development would mean that Russia would have great
influence with the new state and access, and even naval bases, in the East-
ern Mediterranean. Canning took the initiative, and Russia and France went
along, to convince both sides but especially the Ottomans who were winning
by that time, to come to the negotiating table.
The three Great Powers involved had a variety of alternative plans in mind.
One called for Greece to become semi-­autonomous but still part of the Otto-
man Empire, another called for a bit more autonomy, not unlike the one that
Serbia had achieved twenty years before, but with the Sultan still recognized
as the sovereign. Other plans called for more autonomy but wanted Greece to
be a protectorate of one or more of the European powers; still others called for
a tiny independent entity. Starting in 1827 and continuing intermittently until
1832 there were a series of meetings in London which dealt with the thorny
issue of Greece. The Greeks themselves were silent observers to those events
as their fighting ability had been reduced greatly and were on the verge of
losing; as a result, they were willing to accept any halfway decent solution.
In short, as the old saying goes, “beggars can’t be choosers.” The Ottomans
16 Chapter Two

on the other hand, now reinforced by their Egyptian allies/vassals were win-
ning. They were in control of most of the land once liberated by the rebels
and could see the end of the war with a Greek capitulation, just around the
corner. For that reason, they refused to come to the negotiating table. This is
also the time that a rumor, never substantiated, started circulating in Europe.
According to this, once Greece was pacified, the Turks and the Egyptians
would commit what today is known as ethnic cleansing. They would remove
the Greek population of the Peloponnese and replace it with loyal Egyptian
peasants.17 This possibility made the solution to the Greek problem urgent as
no one among the Great Powers wanted to be blamed if the rumor was true.
In an attempt to bring pressure to bear the Great Powers sent their combined
fleets off the coast of the Greek area of Morea, the center of past rebel activ-
ity and now mostly under the control of the Egyptian Army. The Egyptian
Army controlled the land, and the powerful combined Ottoman-­Egyptian
fleet was facing the Europeans at sea. It is understood today that the British
commander, who was in overall command as well, was neither authorized nor
eager to use force. Nevertheless, having five fleets anchored for days close to
each other in the bay of Navarino had everyone on edge. A misunderstand-
ing caused someone from the Ottoman side to fire on a small British boat, a
young officer was killed, and a short but deadly battle ensued. In a few short
hours most of the Ottoman-­Egyptian fleet was destroyed and the allies were
in a position to dictate terms to the Ottomans. Greek independence was now
just a question of time.18

FREE AT LAST

Greece is commemorating and celebrating the 200th anniversary of its inde-

pendence because everyone knows that the War of Independence started in
1821. Less clear is when the war ended! Was it 1827 with the Treaty of Lon-
don when the three Great Powers agreed to mediate and help create an auton-
omous Greece but still subject to the Sultan? But since the Sultan refused to
accept the treaty, it was never really enforced, although it clearly pointed to
the future as per the designs of the Powers. Maybe it was the London Pro-
tocol of 1828 in which the three powers confirmed their earlier decision on
Greece but this time without asking for the consent of the Sultan. Or maybe
it was 1829 when Greek rebels fought their last battle against Ottoman
troops. That brought the end of warfare but not international recognition.
The Sultan was finally forced to agree to the terms of the London Protocol
when, after losing the Russo-­Turkish War of 1828–1829 signed the Treaty of
Adrianople. Finally, another London Protocol, this one in 1830, established
Another random document with
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 of these events, and by the fact of the habitual leniency and
good-will cherished by the North towards the South. Our very
lack of preparation for the conflict disposed us to look for some
other than the way of blood out of the difficulty. Treason had
largely infected both army and navy. Floyd had scattered our
arms. Cobb had depleted our treasury, and Buchanan had
poisoned the political thought of the times by his doctrines of
anti-coercion. It was in such a condition of things as this that
Abraham Lincoln (compelled from fear of assassination to enter
the capital in disguise) was inaugurated and issued his
proclamation for the ‘repossession of the forts, places, and
property which had been seized from the Union,’ and his call
upon the militia of the several States to the number of 75,000
men—a paper which showed how little even he comprehended
the work then before the loyal nation. It was perhaps better for
the country and for mankind that the good man could not know
the end from the beginning. Had he foreseen the thousands who
must sink into bloody graves; the mountains of debt to be laid on
the breast of the nation; the terrible hardships and sufferings
involved in the contest; and his own death by an assassin’s
hand, he too might have adopted the weak sentiment of those
who said ‘erring sisters depart in peace.’”

From the first, I, for one, saw in this war the end of slavery; and
truth requires me to say that my interest in the success of the North
was largely due to this belief. True it is that this faith was many times
shaken by passing events, but never destroyed. When Secretary
Seward instructed our ministers to say to the governments to which
they were accredited, that, “terminate however it might, the status of
no class of the people of the United States would be changed by the
rebellion—that the slaves would be slaves still, and that the masters
would be masters still”—when General McClellan and General Butler
warned the slaves in advance that if any attempt was made by them
to gain their freedom, it would be suppressed with an iron hand—
when the government persistently refused to employ colored troops
—when the emancipation proclamation of General John C. Fremont
in Missouri was withdrawn—when slaves were being returned from
our lines to their masters—when Union soldiers were stationed about
the farm houses of Virginia to guard and protect the master in
holding his slaves—when Union soldiers made themselves more
active in kicking colored men out of their camps than in shooting
rebels—when even Mr. Lincoln could tell the poor negro that “he was
the cause of the war,” I still believed, and spoke as I believed, all
over the North, that the mission of the war was the liberation of the
slave, as well as the salvation of the Union; and hence from the first I
reproached the North that they fought the rebels with only one hand,
when they might strike effectually with two—that they fought with
their soft white hand while they kept their black iron hand chained
and helpless behind them—that they fought the effect while they
protected the cause, and that the Union cause would never prosper
till the war assumed an anti-slavery attitude, and the negro was
enlisted on the loyal side. In every way possible, in the columns of
my paper and on the platform, by letters to friends, at home and
abroad, I did all that I could to impress this conviction upon this
country. But nations seldom listen to advice from individuals,
however reasonable. They are taught less by theories than by facts
and events. There was much that could be said against making the
war an abolition war—much that seemed wise and patriotic. “Make
the war an abolition war,” we were told, “and you drive the border
States into the rebellion, and thus add power to the enemy, and
increase the number you will have to meet on the battle-field. You
will exasperate and intensify southern feeling, making it more
desperate, and put far away the day of peace between the two
sections.” “Employ the arm of the negro, and the loyal men of the
North will throw down their arms and go home.” “This is the white
man’s country, and the white man’s war.” “It would inflict an
intolerable wound upon the pride and spirit of white soldiers of the
Union, to see the negro in the United States uniform. Besides, if you
make the negro a soldier, you cannot depend on his courage: a
crack of his old master’s whip would send him scampering in terror
from the field.” And so it was that custom, pride, prejudice, and the
old-time respect for southern feeling, held back the government from
an anti-slavery policy, and from arming the negro. Meanwhile the
rebellion availed itself of the negro most effectively. He was not only
the stomach of the rebellion, by supplying its commissary
department, but he built its forts, and dug its intrenchments, and
performed other duties of its camp, which left the rebel soldier more
free to fight the loyal army than he could otherwise have been. It was
the cotton and corn of the negro that made the rebellion sack stand
on end, and caused a continuance of the war. “Destroy these,” was
the burden of all my utterances during this part of the struggle, “and
you cripple and destroy the rebellion.” It is surprising how long and
bitterly the government resisted and rejected this view of the
situation. The abolition heart of the North ached over the delay, and
uttered its bitter complaints, but the administration remained blind
and dumb. Bull Run, Ball’s Bluff, Big Bethel, Fredericksburg, and the
Peninsula disasters were the only teachers whose authority was of
sufficient importance to excite the attention or respect of our rulers,
and they were even slow in being taught by these. An important
point was gained, however, when General B. F. Butler, at Fortress
Monroe, announced the policy of treating the slaves as
“contrabands,” to be made useful to the Union cause, and was
sustained therein at Washington, and sentiments of a similar nature
were expressed on the floor of Congress by Hon. A. G. Riddle of
Ohio. A grand accession was made to this view of the case when
Hon. Simon Cameron, then secretary of war, gave it his earnest
support, and General David Hunter put the measure into practical
operation in South Carolina. General Phelps from Vermont, in
command at Carrollton, La., also advocated the same plan though
under discouragements which cost him his command. And many and
grievous disasters on flood and field were needed to educate the
loyal nation and President Lincoln up to the realization of the
necessity, not to say justice, of this position, and many devices,
intermediate steps, and make-shifts were suggested to smooth the
way to the ultimate policy of freeing the slave, and arming the
freedmen.
When at last the truth began to dawn upon the administration
that the negro might be made useful to loyalty, as well as to treason,
to the Union as well as to the Confederacy, it then considered in
what way it could employ him, which would in the least shock and
offend the popular prejudice against him. He was already in the army
as a waiter, and in that capacity there was no objection to him, and
so it was thought that as this was the case, the feeling which
tolerated him as a waiter would not seriously object if he should be
admitted to the army as a laborer, especially as no one under a
southern sun cared to have a monopoly of digging and toiling in
trenches. This was the first step in employing negroes in the United
States service. The second step was to give them a peculiar
costume which should distinguish them from soldiers, and yet mark
them as a part of the loyal force. As the eyes of the loyal
administration still further opened, it was proposed to give these
laborers something better than spades and shovels with which to
defend themselves in cases of emergency. Still later it was proposed
to make them soldiers, but soldiers without the blue uniform. Soldiers
with a mark upon them to show that they were inferior to other
soldiers; soldiers with a badge of degradation upon them. However,
once in the army as a laborer, once there with a red shirt on his back
and a pistol in his belt, the negro was not long in appearing on the
field as a soldier. But still he was not to be a soldier in the sense, and
on an equal footing, with white soldiers. It was given out that he was
not to be employed in the open field with white troops, under the
inspiration of doing battle and winning victories for the Union cause,
and in the face and teeth of his old masters, but that he should be
made to garrison forts in yellow fever and otherwise unhealthy
localities of the South, to save the health of white soldiers, and in
order to keep up the distinction further the black soldiers were to
have only half the wages of the white soldiers, and were to be
commanded entirely by white commissioned officers. While of
course I was deeply pained and saddened by the estimate thus put
upon my race, and grieved at the slowness of heart which marked
the conduct of the loyal government, I was not discouraged, and
urged every man who could to enlist; to get an eagle on his button, a
musket on his shoulder, and the star-spangled banner over his head.
Hence, as soon as Governor Andrew of Massachusetts received
permission from Mr. Lincoln to raise two colored regiments, the 54th
and 55th, I made the following address to the colored citizens of the
North through my paper, then being published in Rochester, which
was copied in the leading journals:
 “men of color, to arms.
“When first the rebel cannon shattered the walls of Sumpter
and drove away its starving garrison, I predicted that the war
then and there inaugurated would not be fought out entirely by
white men. Every month’s experience during these dreary years
has confirmed that opinion. A war undertaken and brazenly
carried on for the perpetual enslavement of colored men, calls
logically and loudly for colored men to help suppress it. Only a
moderate share of sagacity was needed to see that the arm of
the slave was the best defense against the arm of the
slaveholder. Hence with every reverse to the national arms, with
every exulting shout of victory raised by the slaveholding rebels,
I have implored the imperiled nation to unchain against her foes,
her powerful black hand. Slowly and reluctantly that appeal is
beginning to be heeded. Stop not now to complain that it was not
heeded sooner. It may or it may not have been best that it
should not. This is not the time to discuss that question. Leave it
to the future. When the war is over, the country is saved, peace
is established, and the black man’s rights are secured, as they
will be, history with an impartial hand will dispose of that and
sundry other questions. Action! Action! not criticism, is the plain
duty of this hour. Words are now useful only as they stimulate to
blows. The office of speech now is only to point out when,
where, and how to strike to the best advantage. There is no time
to delay. The tide is at its flood that leads on to fortune. From
East to West, from North to South, the sky is written all over,
‘Now or never.’ Liberty won by white men would lose half its
luster. ‘Who would be free themselves must strike the blow.’
‘Better even die free, than to live slaves.’ This is the sentiment of
every brave colored man amongst us. There are weak and
cowardly men in all nations. We have them amongst us. They
tell you this is the ‘white man’s war’; that you will be no ‘better off
after than before the war’; that the getting of you into the army is
to ‘sacrifice you on the first opportunity.’ Believe them not;
cowards themselves, they do not wish to have their cowardice
shamed by your brave example. Leave them to their timidity, or
to whatever motive may hold them back. I have not thought
lightly of the words I am now addressing you. The counsel I give
comes of close observation of the great struggle now in
progress, and of the deep conviction that this is your hour and
mine. In good earnest then, and after the best deliberation, I now
for the first time during this war, feel at liberty to call and counsel
you to arms. By every consideration which binds you to your
enslaved fellow-countrymen, and the peace and welfare of your
country; by every aspiration which you cherish for the freedom
and equality of yourselves and your children; by all the ties of
blood and identity which make us one with the brave black men
now fighting our battles in Louisiana and in South Carolina, I
urge you to fly to arms, and smite with death the power that
would bury the government and your liberty in the same
hopeless grave. I wish I could tell you that the State of New York
calls you to this high honor. For the moment her constituted
authorities are silent on the subject. They will speak by and by,
and doubtless on the right side; but we are not compelled to wait
for her. We can get at the throat of treason and slavery through
the State of Massachusetts. She was first in the War of
Independence; first to break the chains of her slaves; first to
make the black man equal before the law; first to admit colored
children to her common schools, and she was first to answer
with her blood the alarm cry of the nation, when its capital was
menaced by rebels. You know her patriotic governor, and you
know Charles Sumner. I need not add more.
“Massachusetts now welcomes you to arms as soldiers. She
has but a small colored population from which to recruit. She has
full leave of the general government to send one regiment to the
war, and she has undertaken to do it. Go quickly and help fill up
the first colored regiment from the North. I am authorized to
assure you that you will receive the same wages, the same
rations, the same equipments, the same protection, the same
treatment, and the same bounty, secured to white soldiers. You
will be led by able and skillful officers, men who will take
especial pride in your efficiency and success. They will be quick
to accord to you all the honor you shall merit by your valor, and
 see that your rights and feelings are respected by other soldiers.
I have assured myself on these points, and can speak with
authority. More than twenty years of unswerving devotion to our
common cause may give me some humble claim to be trusted at
this momentous crisis. I will not argue. To do so implies
hesitation and doubt, and you do not hesitate. You do not doubt.
The day dawns; the morning star is bright upon the horizon! The
iron gate of our prison stands half open. One gallant rush from
the North will fling it wide open, while four millions of our
brothers and sisters shall march out into liberty. The chance is
now given you to end in a day the bondage of centuries, and to
rise in one bound from social degradation to the plane of
common equality with all other varieties of men. Remember
Denmark Vesey of Charleston; remember Nathaniel Turner of
South Hampton; remember Shields Green and Copeland, who
followed noble John Brown, and fell as glorious martyrs for the
cause of the slave. Remember that in a contest with oppression,
the Almighty has no attribute which can take sides with
oppressors. The case is before you. This is our golden
opportunity. Let us accept it, and forever wipe out the dark
reproaches unsparingly hurled against us by our enemies. Let us
win for ourselves the gratitude of our country, and the best
blessings of our posterity through all time. The nucleus of this
first regiment is now in camp at Readville, a short distance from
Boston. I will undertake to forward to Boston all persons
adjudged fit to be mustered into the regiment, who shall apply to
me at any time within the next two weeks.
“Rochester, March 2, 1863.”

Immediately after authority had been given by President Lincoln

to Governor John A. Andrew of Massachusetts to raise and equip
two regiments of colored men for the war, I received a letter from
George L. Stearns of Boston, a noble worker for freedom in Kansas,
and a warm friend of John Brown, earnestly entreating me to assist
in raising the required number of men. It was presumed that by my
labors in the anti-slavery cause, I had gained some influence with
the colored men of the country, and that they would listen to me in
this emergency; which supposition, I am happy to say, was
supported by the results. There were fewer colored people in
Massachusetts then than now, and it was necessary in order to
make up the full quota of these regiments, to recruit for them in other
northern States. The nominal conditions upon which colored men
were asked to enlist, were not satisfactory to me or them; but
assurances from Governor Andrew that they would in the end be
made just and equal, together with my faith in the logic of events,
and my conviction that the wise thing to do was for the colored man
to get into the army by any door open to him, no matter how narrow,
made me accept with alacrity the work to which I was invited. The
raising of these two regiments—the 54th and 55th—and their
splendid behavior in South and North Carolina was the beginning of
great things for the colored people of the whole country; and not the
least satisfaction I now have in contemplating my humble part in
raising them, is the fact that my two sons, Charles and Lewis, were
the two first in the State of New York to enlist in them. The 54th was
not long in the field before it proved itself gallant and strong, worthy
to rank with the most courageous of its white companions in arms.
Its assault upon Fort Wagner, in which it was so fearfully cut to
pieces, and lost nearly half its officers, including its beloved and
trusted commander, Col. Shaw, at once gave it a name and a fame
throughout the country. In that terrible battle, under the wing of night,
more cavils in respect of the quality of negro manhood were set at
rest than could have been during a century of ordinary life and
observation. After that assault we heard no more of sending negroes
to garrison forts and arsenals, to fight miasma, yellow fever, and
small-pox. Talk of his ability to meet the foe in the open field, and of
his equal fitness with the white man to stop a bullet, then began to
prevail. From this time (and the fact ought to be remembered) the
colored troops were called upon to occupy positions which required
the courage, steadiness, and endurance of veterans, and even their
enemies were obliged to admit that they proved themselves worthy
the confidence reposed in them. After the 54th and 55th
Massachusetts colored regiments were placed in the field, and one
of them had distinguished itself with so much credit in the hour of
trial, the desire to send more such troops to the front became pretty
general. Pennsylvania proposed to raise ten regiments. I was again
called by my friend Mr. Stearns to assist in raising these regiments,
and I set about the work with full purpose of heart, using every
argument of which I was capable, to persuade every colored man
able to bear arms to rally around the flag, and help to save the
country and save the race. It was during this time that the attitude of
the government at Washington caused me deep sadness and
discouragement, and forced me in a measure to suspend my efforts
in that direction. I had assured colored men that once in the Union
army they would be put upon an equal footing with other soldiers;
that they would be paid, promoted, and exchanged as prisoners of
war, Jeff. Davis’ threats that they would be treated as felons to the
contrary notwithstanding. But thus far, the government had not kept
its promise, or the promise made for it. The following letter which I
find published in my paper of the same date will show the course I
felt it my duty to take under the circumstances:

“Rochester, August 1st, 1863.

“Major George L. Stearns:
“My Dear Sir—Having declined to attend the meeting to
promote enlistments, appointed for me at Pittsburgh, in present
circumstances, I owe you a word of explanation. I have hitherto
deemed it a duty, as it certainly has been a pleasure, to
coöperate with you in the work of raising colored troops in the
free States to fight the battles of the Republic against
slaveholding rebels and traitors. Upon the first call you gave me
to this work I responded with alacrity. I saw, or thought I saw a
ray of light, brightening the future of my whole race as well as
that of our war-troubled country, in arousing colored men to fight
for the nation’s life. I continue to believe in the black man’s arm,
and still have some hope in the integrity of our rulers.
Nevertheless I must for the present leave to others the work of
persuading colored men to join the Union army. I owe it to my
long-abused people, and especially to those already in the army,
to expose their wrongs and plead their cause. I cannot do that in
connection with recruiting. When I plead for recruits I want to do
it with all my heart, without qualification. I cannot do that now.
The impression settles upon me that colored men have much
over-rated the enlightenment, justice, and generosity of our
rulers at Washington. In my humble way I have contributed
somewhat to that false estimate. You know that when the idea of
raising colored troops was first suggested, the special duty to be
assigned them, was the garrisoning of forts and arsenals in
certain warm, unhealthy, and miasmatic localities in the South.
They were thought to be better adapted to that service than
white troops. White troops trained to war, brave, and daring,
were to take fortifications, and the blacks were to hold them from
falling again into the hands of the rebels. Three advantages
were to arise out of this wise division of labor: 1st, the spirit and
pride of white troops was not to waste itself in dull monotonous
inactivity in fort life; their arms were to be kept bright by constant
use. 2d, The health of white troops was to be preserved. 3d,
Black troops were to have the advantage of sound military
training and to be otherwise useful, at the same time that they
should be tolerably secure from capture by the rebels, who early
avowed their determination to enslave and slaughter them in
defiance of the laws of war. Two out of the three advantages
were to accrue to the white troops. Thus far, however, I believe
that no such duty as holding fortifications has been committed to
colored troops. They have done far other and more important
work than holding fortifications. I have no special complaint to
make at this point, and I simply mention it to strengthen the
statement, that from the beginning of this business it was the
confident belief among both the colored and white friends of
colored enlistments that President Lincoln as commander-in-
chief of the army and navy, would certainly see to it that his
colored troops should be so handled and disposed of as to be
but little exposed to capture by the rebels, and that, if so
exposed, as they have repeatedly been from the first, the
President possessed both the disposition and the means for
compelling the rebels to respect the rights of such as might fall
into their hands. The piratical proclamation of Jefferson Davis,
announcing slavery and assassination to colored prisoners was
before the country and the world. But men had faith in Mr.
Lincoln and his advisers. He was silent to be sure, but charity
suggested that being a man of action rather than words he only
waited for a case in which he should be required to act. This
faith in the man enabled us to speak with warmth and effect in
urging enlistments among colored men. That faith, my dear sir, is
now nearly gone. Various occasions have arisen during the last
six months for the exercise of his power in behalf of the colored
men in his service. But no word comes to us from the war
department, sternly assuring the rebel chief that inquisition shall
yet be made for innocent blood. No word of retaliation when a
black man is slain by a rebel in cold blood. No word was said
when free men from Massachusetts were caught and sold into
slavery in Texas. No word is said when brave black men who,
according to the testimony of both friend and foe, fought like
heroes to plant the star-spangled banner on the blazing parapets
of Fort Wagner, and in doing so were captured, some mutilated
and killed, and others sold into slavery. The same crushing
silence reigns over this scandalous outrage as over that of the
slaughtered teamsters at Murfreesboro; the same as over that at
Milliken’s Bend and Vicksburg. I am free to say, my dear sir, that
the case looks as if the confiding colored soldiers had been
betrayed into bloody hands by the very government in whose
defence they were heroically fighting. I know what you will say to
this; you will say ‘wait a little longer, and after all the best way to
have justice done to your people is to get them into the army as
fast as you can.’ You may be right in this; my argument has been
the same, but have we not already waited, and have we not
already shown the highest qualities of soldiers, and on this
account deserve the protection of the government for which we
are fighting? Can any case stronger than that before Charleston
ever arise! If the President is ever to demand justice and
humanity, for black soldiers, is not this the time for him to do it?
How many 54th’s must be cut to pieces, its mutilated prisoners
killed, and its living sold into slavery, to be tortured to death by
inches, before Mr. Lincoln shall say, ‘Hold, enough!’
 “You know the 54th. To you, more than to any one man
belongs the credit of raising that regiment. Think of its noble and
brave officers literally hacked to pieces, while many of its rank
and file have been sold into slavery worse than death, and
pardon me, if I hesitate about assisting in raising a fourth
regiment until the President shall give the same protection to
them as to white soldiers.
With warm and sincere regards,
Frederick Douglas.”
“Since writing the foregoing letter, which we have now put
upon record, we have received assurances from Major Stearns
that the government of the United States is already taking
measures which will secure the captured colored soldiers at
Charleston and elsewhere the same protection against slavery
and cruelty extended to white soldiers. What ought to have been
done at the beginning, comes late, but it comes. The poor
colored soldiers have purchased interference dearly. It really
seems that nothing of justice, liberty, or humanity can come to us
except through tears and blood.”

the black man at the white house.

My efforts to secure just and fair treatment for the colored
soldiers did not stop at letters and speeches. At the suggestion of my
friend, Major Stearns, to whom the foregoing letter was addressed, I
was induced to go to Washington and lay the complaints of my
people before President Lincoln and the secretary of war; and to
urge upon them such action as should secure to the colored troops
then fighting for the country, a reasonable degree of fair play. I need
not say that at the time I undertook this mission it required much
more nerve than a similar one would require now. The distance then
between the black man and the white American citizen, was
immeasurable. I was an ex-slave, identified with a despised race;
and yet I was to meet the most exalted person in this great republic.
It was altogether an unwelcome duty, and one from which I would
gladly have been excused. I could not know what kind of a reception
would be accorded me. I might be told to go home and mind my
business, and leave such questions as I had come to discuss to be
managed by the men wisely chosen by the American people to deal
with them. Or I might be refused an interview altogether.
Nevertheless, I felt bound to go; and my acquaintance with Senators
Charles Sumner, Henry Wilson, Samuel Pomeroy, Secretary Salmon
P. Chase, Secretary William H. Seward, and Assistant Secretary of
War Charles A. Dana, encouraged me to hope at least for a civil
reception. My confidence was fully justified in the result. I shall never
forget my first interview with this great man. I was accompanied to
the executive mansion and introduced to President Lincoln by
Senator Pomeroy. The room in which he received visitors was the
one now used by the president’s secretaries. I entered it with a
moderate estimate of my own consequence, and yet there I was to
talk with, and even to advise, the head man of a great nation.
Happily for me, there was no vain pomp and ceremony about him. I
was never more quickly or more completely put at ease in the
presence of a great man, than in that of Abraham Lincoln. He was
seated, when I entered, in a low arm chair, with his feet extended on
the floor, surrounded by a large number of documents, and several
busy secretaries. The room bore the marks of business, and the
persons in it, the president included, appeared to be much over-
worked and tired. Long lines of care were already deeply written on
Mr. Lincoln’s brow, and his strong face, full of earnestness, lighted up
as soon as my name was mentioned. As I approached and was
introduced to him, he rose and extended his hand, and bade me
welcome. I at once felt myself in the presence of an honest man—
one whom I could love, honor, and trust without reserve or doubt.
Proceeding to tell him who I was, and what I was doing, he promptly,
but kindly, stopped me, saying, “I know who you are, Mr. Douglass;
Mr. Seward has told me all about you. Sit down. I am glad to see
you.” I then told him the object of my visit: that I was assisting to
raise colored troops; that several months before I had been very
successful in getting men to enlist, but that now it was not easy to
induce the colored men to enter the service, because there was a
feeling among them that the government did not deal fairly with them
in several respects. Mr. Lincoln asked me to state particulars. I
replied that there were three particulars which I wished to bring to his
attention. First, that colored soldiers ought to receive the same
wages as those paid to white soldiers. Second, that colored soldiers
ought to receive the same protection when taken prisoners, and be
exchanged as readily, and on the same terms, as any other
prisoners, and if Jefferson Davis should shoot or hang colored
soldiers in cold blood, the United States government should retaliate
in kind and degree without delay upon Confederate prisoners in its
hands. Third, when colored soldiers, seeking the “bauble-reputation
at the cannon’s mouth,” performed great and uncommon service on
the battle-field, they should be rewarded by distinction and
promotion, precisely as white soldiers are rewarded for like services.
Mr. Lincoln listened with patience and silence to all I had to say.
He was serious and even troubled by what I had said, and by what
he had evidently thought himself before upon the same points. He
impressed me with the solid gravity of his character, by his silent
listening not less than by his earnest reply to my words.
He began by saying that the employment of colored troops at all
was a great gain to the colored people; that the measure could not
have been successfully adopted at the beginning of the war; that the
wisdom of making colored men soldiers was still doubted; that their
enlistment was a serious offense to popular prejudice; that they had
larger motives for being soldiers than white men; that they ought to
be willing to enter the service upon any conditions; that the fact that
they were not to receive the same pay as white soldiers, seemed a
necessary concession to smooth the way to their employment at all
as soldiers; but that ultimately they would receive the same. On the
second point, in respect to equal protection, he said the case was
more difficult. Retaliation was a terrible remedy, and one which it was
very difficult to apply; one which if once begun, there was no telling
where it would end; that if he could get hold of the confederate
soldiers who had been guilty of treating colored soldiers as felons,
he could easily retaliate, but the thought of hanging men for a crime
perpetrated by others, was revolting to his feelings. He thought that
the rebels themselves would stop such barbarous warfare, and less
evil would be done if retaliation were not resorted to. That he had
already received information that colored soldiers were being treated
as prisoners of war. In all this I saw the tender heart of the man
rather than the stern warrior and commander-in-chief of the
American army and navy, and while I could not agree with him, I
could but respect his humane spirit.
On the third point he appeared to have less difficulty, though he
did not absolutely commit himself. He simply said that he would sign
any commission to colored soldiers whom his secretary of war
should commend to him. Though I was not entirely satisfied with his
views, I was so well satisfied with the man and with the educating
tendency of the conflict, I determined to go on with the recruiting.
From the president, I went to see Secretary Stanton. The
manner of no two men could be more widely different. I was
introduced by Assistant Secretary Dana, whom I had known many
years before at “Brook Farm,” Mass., and afterwards as managing
editor of the New York Tribune. Every line in Mr. Stanton’s face told
me that my communication with him must be brief, clear, and to the
point; that he might turn his back upon me as a bore at any moment;
that politeness was not one of his weaknesses. His first glance was
that of a man who says, “Well, what do you want? I have no time to
waste upon you or any body else, and I shall waste none. Speak
quick, or I shall leave you.” The man and the place seemed alike
busy. Seeing I had no time to lose, I hastily went over the ground I
had gone over to President Lincoln. As I ended, I was surprised by
seeing a changed man before me. Contempt and suspicion, and
brusqueness, had all disappeared from his face and manner, and for
a few minutes he made the best defense that I had then heard from
any body of the treatment of colored soldiers by the government. I
was not satisfied, yet I left in the full belief that the true course to the
black man’s freedom and citizenship was over the battle-field, and
that my business was to get every black man I could into the Union
armies. Both the President and Secretary of War assured me that
justice would ultimately be done my race, and I gave full faith and
credit to their promise. On assuring Mr. Stanton of my willingness to
take a commission, he said he would make me assistant adjutant to
General Thomas, who was then recruiting and organizing troops in
the Mississippi valley. He asked me how soon I could be ready. I told
him in two weeks, and that my commission might be sent me to
Rochester. For some reason, however, my commission never came.
The government, I fear, was still clinging to the idea that positions of
honor in the service should be occupied by white men, and that it
would not do to inaugurate just then the policy of perfect equality. I
wrote to the department for my commission, but was simply told to
report to General Thomas. This was so different from what I
expected and from what I had been promised, that I wrote to
Secretary Stanton that I would report to General Thomas on receipt
of my commission, but it did not come, and I did not go to the
Mississippi valley as I had fondly hoped. I knew too much of camp
life and the value of shoulder straps in the army to go into the service
without some visible mark of my rank. I have no doubt that Mr.
Stanton in the moment of our meeting meant all he said, but thinking
the matter over he felt that the time had not then come for a step so
radical and aggressive. Meanwhile my three sons were in the
service. Lewis and Charles, as already named, in the Massachusetts
regiments and Frederick recruiting colored troops in the Mississippi
valley.
 CHAPTER XII.
HOPE FOR THE NATION.

Proclamation of emancipation—Its reception in Boston—Objections brought

against it—Its effect on the country—Interview with President Lincoln—
New York riots—Re-election of Mr. Lincoln—His inauguration, and
inaugural—Vice-President Johnson—Presidential reception—The fall of
Richmond—Fanueil Hall—The assassination—Condolence.

THE first of January, 1863, was a memorable day in the progress of

American liberty and civilization. It was the turning-point in the
conflict between freedom and slavery. A death blow was then given
to the slaveholding rebellion. Until then the federal arm had been
more than tolerant to that relict of barbarism. It had defended it
inside the slave States; it had countermanded the emancipation
policy of John C. Fremont in Missouri; it had returned slaves to their
so-called owners; and had threatened that any attempt on the part of
the slaves to gain their freedom by insurrection, or otherwise, would
be put down with an iron hand; it had even refused to allow the
Hutchinson family to sing their anti-slavery songs in the camps of the
Army of the Potomac; it had surrounded the houses of slaveholders
with bayonets for their protection; and through its secretary of war,
William H. Seward, had given notice to the world that, “however the
war for the Union might terminate, no change would be made in the
relation of master and slave.” Upon this pro-slavery platform the war
against the rebellion had been waged during more than two years. It
had not been a war of conquest, but rather a war of conciliation.
McClellan, in command of the army, had been trying, apparently, to
put down the rebellion without hurting the rebels, certainly without
hurting slavery, and the government had seemed to coöperate with
him in both respects. Charles Sumner, William Lloyd Garrison,
Wendell Phillips, Gerrit Smith, and the whole anti-slavery phalanx at
the North, had denounced this policy, and had besought Mr. Lincoln
to adopt an opposite one, but in vain. Generals, in the field, and
councils in the Cabinet, had persisted in advancing this policy
through defeats and disasters, even to the verge of ruin. We fought
the rebellion, but not its cause. The key to the situation was the four
million of slaves; yet the slave who loved us, was hated, and the
slaveholder who hated us, was loved. We kissed the hand that
smote us, and spurned the hand that helped us. When the means of
victory were before us,—within our grasp,—we went in search of the
means of defeat. And now, on this day of January 1st, 1863, the
formal and solemn announcement was made that thereafter the
government would be found on the side of emancipation. This
proclamation changed everything. It gave a new direction to the
councils of the Cabinet, and to the conduct of the national arms. I
shall leave to the statesman, the philosopher, and historian, the more
comprehensive discussion of this document, and only tell how it
touched me, and those in like condition with me at the time. I was in
Boston, and its reception there may indicate the importance attached
to it elsewhere. An immense assembly convened in Tremont Temple
to await the first flash of the electric wires announcing the “new
departure.” Two years of war prosecuted in the interests of slavery,
had made free speech possible in Boston, and we were now met
together to receive and celebrate the first utterance of the long-
hoped-for proclamation, if it came, and, if it did not come, to speak
our minds freely; for, in view of the past, it was by no means certain
that it would come. The occasion, therefore, was one of both hope
and fear. Our ship was on the open sea, tossed by a terrible storm;
wave after wave was passing over us, and every hour was fraught
with increasing peril. Whether we should survive or perish, depended
in large measure upon the coming of this proclamation. At least so
we felt. Although the conditions on which Mr. Lincoln had promised
to withhold it, had not been complied with, yet, from many
considerations, there was room to doubt and fear. Mr. Lincoln was
known to be a man of tender heart, and boundless patience: no man
could tell to what length he might go, or might refrain from going in
the direction of peace and reconciliation. Hitherto, he had not shown
himself a man of heroic measures, and, properly enough, this step
belonged to that class. It must be the end of all compromises with
slavery—a declaration that thereafter the war was to be conducted
on a new principle, with a new aim. It would be a full and fair
assertion that the government would neither trifle, or be trifled with
any longer. But would it come? On the side of doubt, it was said that
Mr. Lincoln’s kindly nature might cause him to relent at the last
moment; that Mrs. Lincoln, coming from an old slaveholding family,
would influence him to delay, and give the slaveholders one other
C
chance. Every moment of waiting chilled our hopes, and
strengthened our fears. A line of messengers was established
between the telegraph office and the platform of Tremont Temple,
and the time was occupied with brief speeches from Hon. Thomas
Russell of Plymouth, Miss Anna E. Dickinson (a lady of marvelous
eloquence), Rev. Mr. Grimes, J. Sella Martin, William Wells Brown,
and myself. But speaking or listening to speeches was not the thing
for which the people had come together. The time for argument was
passed. It was not logic, but the trump of jubilee, which everybody
wanted to hear. We were waiting and listening as for a bolt from the
sky, which should rend the fetters of four million of slaves; we were
watching, as it were, by the dim light of the stars, for the dawn of a
new day; we were longing for the answer to the agonizing prayers of
centuries. Remembering those in bonds as bound with them, we
wanted to join in the shout for freedom, and in the anthem of the
redeemed.

C
I have reason to know that this supposition
did Mrs. Lincoln great injustice.

Eight, nine, ten o’clock came and went, and still no word. A
visible shadow seemed falling on the expecting throng, which the
confident utterances of the speakers sought in vain to dispel. At last,
when patience was well-nigh exhausted, and suspense was
becoming agony, a man (I think it was Judge Russell) with hasty step
advanced through the crowd, and with a face fairly illumined with the
news he bore, exclaimed in tones that thrilled all hearts, “It is
coming!” “It is on the wires!!” The effect of this announcement was
startling beyond description, and the scene was wild and grand. Joy
and gladness exhausted all forms of expression from shouts of
praise, to sobs and tears. My old friend Rue, a colored preacher, a
man of wonderful vocal power, expressed the heartfelt emotion of
the hour, when he led all voices in the anthem, “Sound the loud
timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea, Jehovah hath triumphed, his people
are free.” About twelve o’clock, seeing there was no disposition to
retire from the hall, which must be vacated, my friend Grimes (of
blessed memory), rose and moved that the meeting adjourn to the
Twelfth Baptist church, of which he was pastor, and soon that church
was packed from doors to pulpit, and this meeting did not break up
till near the dawn of day. It was one of the most affecting and thrilling
occasions I ever witnessed, and a worthy celebration of the first step
on the part of the nation in its departure from the thraldom of ages.
There was evidently no disposition on the part of this meeting to
criticise the proclamation; nor was there with any one at first. At the
moment we saw only its anti-slavery side. But further and more
critical examination showed it to be extremely defective. It was not a
proclamation of “liberty throughout all the land, unto all the
inhabitants thereof,” such as we had hoped it would be; but was one
marked by discriminations and reservations. Its operation was
confined within certain geographical and military lines. It only
abolished slavery where it did not exist, and left it intact where it did
exist. It was a measure apparently inspired by the low motive of
military necessity, and by so far as it was so, it would become
inoperative and useless when military necessity should cease. There
was much said in this line, and much that was narrow and
erroneous. For my own part, I took the proclamation, first and last,
for a little more than it purported; and saw in its spirit, a life and
power far beyond its letter. Its meaning to me was the entire abolition
of slavery, wherever the evil could be reached by the Federal arm,
and I saw that its moral power would extend much further. It was in
my estimation an immense gain to have the war for the Union
committed to the extinction of Slavery, even from a military necessity.