Lincoln and the Irish

by Niall O'Dowd

  From the Atlantic port of Wilmington, Father Bannon successfully ran the Union naval blockade aboard a swift blockade runner named the Robert E. Lee in early October 1863. Soon after, he arrived in Ireland. His mission had begun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  In Ireland, Father Bannon Wins Friends for the Rebels’ Cause

  Defeat at Gettysburg and Grant’s victory at Vicksburg made Father John Bannon’s Irish mission even more important. The South had to hold out; their task was easier than Lincoln’s. They would win by not losing, eventually forcing secession talks.

  After successfully running the Union blockade, Bannon, the Confederate envoy to Ireland, as well as to the pope, headed for London to consult with the Confederacy’s ambassador all but in name, Henry Hotze.

  Hotze was just reaching his thirtieth birthday, but his youth had not stopped him from becoming the most important Confederate figure in Europe, seemingly with listening posts everywhere.

  Hotze gave Bannon ample funds and sent him on his way to proselytize for the Confederacy in Ireland, and to urge the Irish church to call for an end to immigration, given that so many were joining up with the Union army, many unwillingly.

  Bannon took up residence at the Angel Hotel on Inns Quay, where Temple Bar, the nightspot hub of Dublin, is now located.

  News of Bannon’s arrival spread quickly. The Confederate voice had not been heard in Ireland, while on the other side, Thomas Francis Meagher was well known and had spread the Union message.

  However, as Bannon’s biographer William Barnaby Faherty noted, the horrific toll of Irish lives, especially at Fredericksburg where the Irish Brigade made a suicidal charge, had resulted in William Smith O’Brien, former Young Irelander, compatriot, and fellow escapee from Australia, parting ways with Meagher.

  Bannon saw an opening. Dozens of newsmen gathered to hear the Southern story and Bannon was only too happy to oblige.

  Bannon stated that Lincoln and his cohorts, the Know-Nothings, swore “No Popery” as loudly as “No Slavery,” and that they had invaded the South and destroyed churches and mocked Catholic ritual. The invasion of the South was about Northern capitalists seeking to gain the rich agricultural soil of the South and drive the people off it, he argued, knowing that Famine evictions were very fresh in the minds of the Irish and were still going on.

  Bannon supplied newspapers from Southern capitals such as Richmond, which gave a very different view of the conflict. The media hailed his fresh voice and perspective and marveled at his impressive presence. He was six-feet-four inches, handsome, and a marvelous orator.

  Bannon adopted several strategies. He adopted the pen name of “Sacerdos,” or “Priest,” and began hitting the Irish newspapers with articles. Archbishop John McHale, Bishop of Tuam, was an early and influential supporter.

  However, Bannon discovered most potential emigrants did not read newspapers and were not highly educated. He quickly made up thousands of posters with the headline “Caution to Immigrants,” which were nailed on boarding houses near immigrant departure locations. It was blood-curdling stuff—“Persecution of Catholics in America,” “The Tabernacle Overthrown,” “Benediction Veil Made a Horse Cover Of,” “The Priest Imprisoned and Afterward Exposed on an Island to Alligators and Snakes.”

  In January 1864, Bannon had twelve thousand posters made up and mailed to every parish priest in Ireland. He called the poster “Address to the Catholic Clergy and People of Ireland.”

  He wanted to frame the conflict as a religious struggle and an attempt to destroy religion in the South by an Oliver Cromwell called Abraham Lincoln. Bannon cited numerous outrages, many likely invented, such as Northern invaders burning effigies of the pope, using churches as stables, and kicking around the Blessed Sacrament. The South had long been a haven for Catholics, Bannon argued, and now an attempt was under way to destroy it. In his only ever written reference to slavery, Bannon said the North would make the “Irish lower than the slaves.”

  Bannon had significant success. The August London Times took notice and praised the Irish Confederate priest whose “noiseless industry, devoted zeal, and sound discretion” had so successfully brought about a change to the emigration pattern.

  Bannon was a star. Parish priests everywhere wanted him to speak and warn their parishioners off emigration.

  Bannon wrote to Judah Benjamin, secretary of state for the Confederacy, quoting an Irish peasant who stated, “We who were all praying for the North … would now willingly fight for the South if we could get there.” The original Northern tilt was likely heavily influenced by Archbishop Hughes of New York, a towering figure to the Irish clergy.

  Bannon felt that seventy-five percent of Irish recruits from Ireland would fight for the South if they could. The London Times weighed in again, praising Bannon for the “cogency of the reasoning.”

  Bannon was joined in Ireland by the slave-holding Bishop of Charleston and Irish native Patrick Lynch. A nephew of Lynch who traveled with him saw Bannon in action as an emigrant ship from Liverpool arrived in Queenstown and about a thousand would-be emigrants were waiting to board.

  He reported that the imposing figure of Bannon jumped on a soapbox and delivered a thundering sermon telling them all to go home. Most recognized him and flocked around him.

  He told them within four days of arriving in America they’d be flung in jail and given a choice of staying there or joining the army. “My advice to you is return to your homes,” he said.

  Most present dropped to their knees and asked for Bannon’s blessing and then took off back the way they had come, the bishop’s nephew reported.

  It is estimated that Union recruitment of Irish soldiers dropped by two thirds from December 1863 to July 1864. What would have been the impact if Bannon had arrived in 1861?

  Bishop Lynch and Bannon had prearranged to travel to see the pope, who was Pius IX.

  Pius was waiting for them, and greeted them warmly. They had a pleasant meeting, but it became clear that a statement of support for the South was not going to happen with the military situation after Vicksburg and Gettysburg swinging so strongly to the North.

  Events overtook Bannon exactly as Jefferson Davis had feared. The recruitment of Irish was an important factor, allowing Grant to prevail mainly by sheer weight of numbers.

  Bannon would never see America again. Instead, he became a Jesuit, switching orders from being a diocesan priest, and served as a powerful voice for the church in Ireland.

  He became Ireland’s greatest preacher with thousands showing up for his sermons. He traveled the length and breadth of Ireland, opening missions, fund-raising, and making new friends.

  His heart always remained with his beloved South, and towards the end of his life, it was back to the old days around the campfire or galloping to the battlefield to give the last rites to a dying soldier he talked of.

  All his life, he kept the letter of instruction from Judah Benjamin, who bizarrely became a practicing barrister in London after barely escaping the Union troops as they went through the South.

  Bannon was never held accountable for his acceptance of slavery, and it is extraordinary how he avoided the issue all his life in Ireland.

  He also exposed the Catholic Church as an institution that hardly gave slavery a thought when they embraced Bannon. It could not have been that they were ignorant of it. Archbishop McHale’s great friend “The Liberator” Daniel O’Connell had called it an abomination repeatedly, yet the church chose not to engage. It must forever remain a stain on the leaders of that generation.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  General Phil Sheridan, the Little Big Fighter

  “This Sheridan is a little Irishman but he’s a big fighter.”

  —Abraham Lincoln to Annie Wittenmyer

  Of all the Irish men and women Lincoln knew, no one would prove more important to Lincoln in winning the war than “Little Phil”—General Philip Sheridan. Sheridan played a critical role as head of the Union cavalry a
nd later, at age thirty-three, as general of the Army of the Shenandoah, with thirty thousand men under him as Grant closed in on Lee.

  During those final weeks, Sheridan was like a whirling dervish, confronting the Confederates at every opportunity. As a strange lassitude and indecision gripped the Union commanders with victory in sight, Sheridan just plunged headlong into every battle he could find.

  At one critical point in the closing days of the war, as Grant hesitated on whether to press everything at Lee in a concerted gamble, it was Sheridan who convinced him to go ahead. Sheridan was proven right. For one of the very few times in the Civil War, Grant was in a funk about what to do, and wavering.

  Sheridan personally pleaded his case to strike Lee immediately and shook up Grant and his generals, who were prepared to vacillate. Adam Badeau, a member of the staff of Grant, stated, “Sheridan talked so cheerily, so confidently, so intelligently of what he could do, that his mood was contagious.”

  A telegram from Lincoln on the matter revealed how much he had come to trust the Irish man. Lincoln sent Grant the telegram on April 7, 1865: “Gen. Sheridan says ‘If the thing is pressed I think that Lee will surrender.’ Let the thing be pressed.”

  Lincoln was right to insist. On April 9, 1865, it was Sheridan who blocked Lee’s last route of escape from the converging Union armies. Lee had no choice but to surrender at Appomattox Courthouse.

  Sheridan, parents from Kilinkeer, County Cavan, had begun the war as a captain and ended up as the fourth-ranked general in the US army after Henry Halleck, Ulysses S. Grant, and William Sherman. It was an incredible rise.

  Grant, who had plucked Sheridan from relative obscurity to head up the Union cavalry, was a committed fan. Speaking of Sheridan’s abilities, Grant stated that he “ranked Sheridan with Napoleon and Frederick and the great commanders in history”—quite a compliment from the greatest Union soldier of all in the final days of the Civil War.

  At the final battle at Five Forks, where vital railway lines to resupply the Confederates were the target, it was Sheridan leading his army who smashed the enemy. Lee had sent an urgent message to General George Pickett to hold Five Forks “at all hazards.” His resupply and escape plan could not work if Five Forks was taken.

  Sheridan fought like a man possessed. As always, leading from the front, “Little Phil” at one point vaulted from his horse over a Confederate barrier and landed amid thunderstruck enemy soldiers. He ranged up and down the front line shaking his fist at the enemy and urging his men on. Pickett’s army collapsed; the final resistance was over, and there was no way out for Lee.

  “I believe General Sheridan has no superior as a general, either living or dead, and perhaps not an equal,” Grant said, after Five Forks.

  For all his greatness, he was deeply controversial. He believed in all-out warfare and a scorched earth policy, whether with Confederate-supporting civilians or later, Indians. His reasoning was clear—war was hell and the sooner it was over with the better, so all available methods were fair.

  He was politically brave, too. After the war, as viceroy of Texas, he insisted blacks be allowed to vote as part of reconstruction. President Johnson, in cowardly fashion, removed him because of white outrage.

  His was an extraordinary rise. Philip Henry Sheridan was once described by Lincoln as “a brown, chunky little chap, with a long body, short legs, not enough neck to hang him, and such long arms that if his ankles itch he can scratch them without stooping.”

  Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but like the ungainly Lincoln, it was hardly Sheridan’s looks that mattered.

  Recalling his meeting on April 4, 1865 with President Lincoln, Sheridan wrote, “I proceeded with General Halleck to the White House to pay my respects to the President. Mr. Lincoln received me very cordially, offering both his Hands, and saying that he hoped I would fulfill the expectations of General Grant in the new command I was about to undertake, adding that thus far the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac had not done all it might have done.”

  Lincoln’s opinion of the hard-driving commander vastly improved with time, and he later said to the Irishman, “General Sheridan, when this particular war began, I thought a cavalryman should be at least six-feet-four inches high, but I have changed my mind. Five feet four will do in a pinch.”

  The location of Sheridan’s birth in 1831 has become a major dispute among Civil War buffs. He claimed he was born in Albany, New York, but there is no record of the family there. Much like famous photographer Matthew Brady, it seems Sheridan preferred to be known as American, given the prejudice against Irish immigrants at the time.

  Sheridan family genealogist William Drake has researched Sheridan’s birthplace and published his findings on Genealogy.com. He states in part:

  During the last three years of her life, his niece, Nellie Sheridan Wilson, lived with us. Nellie often told me of the General’s exploits, before her death in 1947. She regularly mentioned that ‘Uncle Phil’ was born at sea during the voyage to America… That is what I accept as fact. Sheridan’s birth date was March 6, 1831.

  Sheridan certainly did not advertise his Irish roots, perhaps because he had presidential ambitions. Civil War historian Damian Shiels turned up a remarkable interview Sheridan gave.

  When Sheridan was in Ireland in 1871, he carried out an interview with a Dublin-based correspondent of the New York Herald. Sheridan, who was staying in Dublin’s Shelbourne Hotel, was asked about Ireland:

  CORRESPONDENT. This, I presume, is your first visit to Ireland?

  GENERAL. My first visit.

  And before I could ask another question the General, turning to the window, which looked out on Stephen’s Green—reputed to be the largest square in the world—said, “What a beautiful country.” And I must say, that in my heart I fully endorsed his words. The Green, at this season, looks peculiarly beautiful. It is encircled with a row of hawthorns, and interspersed with chestnuts, and as both at this time are putting on their coat of green, and bursting into red and white blossoms, its appearance was most striking and beautiful.

  CORRESPONDENT. Ireland, General, I believe, is the land of your forefathers?

  GENERAL. It is; but my family emigrated so long ago that I am unable to say whether it belonged to the north or south. It strikes me it came from Westmeath.

  CORRESPONDENT. That is almost in the centre, General, and, although there is great poverty in that district, a magnificent county it is. Have you seen much of Ireland?

  GENERAL. Well, yes, a good deal. I have been to Punchestown, and got a good wetting. Both days were fearfully wet. This is a damp climate, I think, and I see that it is raining to-day also. Then, I’ve been to the north of Ireland for a short time, which appears to me the most nourishing part of the country.

  CORRESPONDENT. Belfast is a fine city.

  GENERAL. A flourishing city; there’s wealth there, and I was greatly pleased with it. It reminded me of an American city. The people are very active, steady and industrious, and I’m sure they’ll make great progress. On the whole, I formed a very favorable impression of Ireland and the Irish people.

  It is obviously risible that Sheridan could not recall where his parents were from or when his family came to America, given that he was very likely born on the actual boat. It obviously spoke to his desire to not advertise his Irish roots.

  While in Dublin, Sheridan turned down a meeting with the Fenian leadership. That was a fact that went down badly back in America, where he explained hastily to Irish American audiences he did support Irish freedom, but he subsequently never spoke out on it. Sheridan had political ambitions, perhaps even the White House. He could not be foreign-born.

  Sheridan was a scrapper all his life, being suspended at one point from West Point for a year after getting into a serious physical altercation. He finished in the bottom rung of graduates his year and was posted to several frontier spots in the Oregon territory, where he lived with an Indian mistress. Then the war broke out.

  He b
egan the war as a staff member of General Halleck’s, but in May 1862, he was promoted to colonel and did so well that General William Rosecrans promoted him to brigadier general. He was then promoted to major general. The reason was clear. Unlike so many others, Sheridan knew how to fight.

  General Grant, who had observed Sheridan’s unique leadership ability and utter fearlessness, now called Sheridan to Washington. Grant sent a note to General Halleck, Commander-in-Chief (in name only), that he wanted Sheridan in charge of Shenandoah Valley with an army of thirty thousand to finally cut off the Confederate bread basket and the route they regularly used to attack Northern targets, including Washington.

  Grant told the little Irishman, “Give the enemy no rest, do all the damage to railroads and crops you can. Carry off stock of all descriptions, and Negroes, so as to prevent further planting. If the war is to last another year, we want the Shenandoah Valley to remain a barren waste.”

  The times were growing desperate. Grant’s campaign had stalled, and Election Day was drawing nearer. Lincoln needed to remove the threat that Rebels could attack Washington, especially after a raiding party led by Jubal Early almost reached its gates.

  Lincoln approved, but Halleck and Secretary of War Stanton disagreed, saying that at just thirty-three, Sheridan was too young for command of an army.

  He proved them wrong.

  On September 19, he won a small but strategic battle against the Confederate chief tormentor Jubal Early. The stage was set for a final showdown. It was noticeable that men fought better with Sheridan than any other commander. He led from the front, took the same risks and often more risks than they did. Backing down was not in his vocabulary. There was simply no reverse gear.

  Sheridan’s signal officers had broken the Confederate flagging code, and they passed on a message that Early would be joined by General James Longstreet’s army, and that they could crush Sheridan with a surprise attack. It seems Sheridan believed the plan was so risky that it must be fake.