Fernando Gale Cartland, in his book
Southern Heroes: The Friends in War Time, tells how
Quakers in the Confederate states coped with the military draft, exemption
fees, and war taxes.
We have learned that the appeal to the Confederate Congress was so far
considered by that body as to result in the passage of an act exempting
Friends from military service, if they were at that time members of the
Friends church, upon the payment of five hundred dollars each. The following
is a copy of the act:
Laws Relating to Non-Combatants
Orders from the Adjutant and Inspector General’s office,
.
Sec. Ⅶ. Friends, Dunkards,
Nazarenes, and Mennonites. All persons of the above denominations, in
regular membership therein on
, shall be exempt from enrollment on furnishing a
substitute, or on presenting to the enrolling officer a receipt from a
bonded quartermaster for the tax of five hundred dollars imposed by act of
Congress, and an affidavit by the bishop, presiding elder or other officer
whose duty it is to preserve the records of membership in the denomination
to which the party belongs, setting forth distinctly the fact that the
party, on , was in regular membership with such
denomination. The affidavit must be taken and certified before a justice of
the peace or other officer appointed by the law of his State to administer
oaths, and his authority to administer oaths must be certified by the clerk
of a court of record, under the seal of the court.
All assistant-quartermasters to whom the said tax is tendered will receipt
for it, and pay the same into the treasury of the Confederate States
without unreasonable delay. The enrolling officer will receive the receipt
and forward it to the commandant of conscripts, by whom it will be
forwarded to the quarter master-general, who will charge the
assistant-quartermaster with the amount received by him.
“we cannot conscientiously pay the specified tax, it being imposed upon us on
account of our principles, as the price exacted of us for religious liberty”
The first meeting of North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends, following the
passage of this bill, was held at New Garden, Guilford County, in
. It took this subject into consideration
and made the following minute expressing its united judgment:
We have had the subject under serious consideration, and while in accordance
with our last yearly meeting we do pay all taxes imposed on us as citizens
and property-holders in common with other citizens, remembering the
injunction, tribute to whom tribute is due, custom to whom custom, yet we
cannot conscientiously pay the specified tax, it being imposed upon us on
account of our principles, as the price exacted of us for religious liberty.
Yet we do appreciate the good intentions of those members of Congress who
had it in their hearts to do something for our relief; and we recommend that
those parents who have, moved by sympathy, or those young men who, dreading
the evils of a military camp, availed themselves of this law, shall be
treated in a tender manner by their monthly meetings.
Notwithstanding this declaration of the yearly meeting, many of the members
did, sooner or later, pay the exemption tax; and the yearly meeting, having
officially cleared itself of responsibility, was not disposed to censure
those who felt freedom of conscience so to do.
We may recognize how great a temptation it was thus to purchase freedom from
prison and severe suffering, when we consider that, on account of the
depreciation in the value of Confederate money, the tax demanded was finally
not more than the price of a barrel of flour or even of a pair of boots.
There were, however, many Friends who would not purchase their liberty, even
at so small a cost. Their consciences were unyielding, and rather than
disobey what they understood to be God s command to them, they chose to
suffer persecution, yea, death itself.
Upon these, therefore, and upon those who joined Friends meetings after the
exemption act was passed the trial came most severely; and the test to which
the principles of Friends were put in this particular exceeded in severity
any ever known, even that of the great Irish rebellion in 1684, during which
the lives of only two Friends were taken, and they had sacrificed their
principles and resorted to arms.
Another excerpt from Southern Heroes concerns
four Friends who stuck by their principles after being drafted:
Two brothers, Thomas and Amos Hinshaw, and two Barker brothers, Cyrus and
Nathan, their cousins, were conscripted at the same time and together taken
to High Point, N.C.,
then the nearest railroad station to their home, thirty-two miles away.
These men were obliged to make a hurried march before the gun and bayonet.
Thomas Hinshaw’s wife knew that he would need food and clothing, so
she quickly prepared them and started on foot to overtake the company, which
she did near her father’s home, two miles distant, where she took
leave of her husband and returned to her home and little ones, who were now
dependent on her efforts for support. Faithfully she ploughed the fields,
hoed the crops, and cared for the home.
Our Friends with many other conscripts were hurried away to Camp French,
near Black Water, Virginia. At Weldon more men were taken on board, and they
were so packed, like cattle in freight cars, that they could only rest
themselves by sitting on one another’s knees. They were not furnished
with food or water for nearly twenty-four hours. The food which was brought
by Thomas Hinshaw’s wife was generously shared with his friends, and
was a great help to them.
Our four Friends refused to make choice of any part of the service, and were
consigned to the 52nd North Carolina regiment,
General Pettigrew’s brigade. They were at once offered equipments and
required to drill, but were unanimous in declaring their peaceful
principles. The officers, really desirous of favoring them, entreated them
to pay the commutation tax, and told them their money should be used for
civil purposes only; but they plead that religious liberty was one of the
principles of their forefathers, that freedom of conscience was the inherent
right of men, that war and fighting are contrary to the commands of Christ,
and that liberty of conscience and freedom to obey Christ should not be
purchased with money. They would therefore suffer cheerfully the penalty of
the law, which they could not, for conscience sake, obey.
After four months, they received furloughs for fifteen days, and on the back
of these was written: “These men are of no manner of use in the army.” While
at home the attempt was made to persuade them to pay the tax, but it was
unavailing. Thomas Hinshaw says: “It was a great temptation for us, dreading
as we did to return to the camp. On , we again took leave of our dear families and
friends at home, which, I think, was as hard a trial as we have ever had to
experience. The officers and men all seemed glad to see us and gave us a
cordial welcome. No military duty was required of us, not even to answer to
roll-call.”
Cartland’s book also includes a section written by Himelius
M. Hockett:
We were notified of our conscription and ordered to camp, but we did not
choose to go, and remained quietly about our own affairs. Soon, however, the
militia colonel appeared and took us from our work in the fields to the camp
at Raleigh. We stated our reasons for not answering the summons, and told
the officers we went as prisoners and not as soldiers.
Arriving in Raleigh , we, with a neighbor named
Reynolds, were ordered to go at once to get wood for the use of the camp.
This we declined to do, for we considered that by so doing we would commit
ourselves to further military requirements. The officers then ordered
soldiers to drive us into the service with bayonets, swearing that they would
make examples of such men before they would have their orders disobeyed. We
told them we meant no disrespect to them as men or officers, but that it was
in obedience to a higher authority that we felt that we must refuse to obey
orders that conflicted with the laws of God.
We were left in camp over night, and the
morning were ordered to similar work,
but declining, were told that they would soon bring us out of our religious
notions. The enrolling officer of the company told us that over $20,000 had
been paid to him for Quaker taxes by Orthodox Quakers, and they would subdue
us before they had done with us.
I then told my brother that they were in no condition to hear truth, and it
would be like casting pearls before swine to reply to them. We meekly let
them go on with their tirades of abuse until they pretty well exhausted
themselves. Noticing our composure, one said: “I reckon you think you are
persecuted for righteousness sake, don’t you?” Every man was then ordered
into line to march to the adjutant-general’s office to be assigned to his
place in the army. We declined to march in line, and for this the soldiers
were ordered to run us through with their bayonets. They ran the glittering
steel through our clothing without inflicting the least damage to our
persons, in a way that seemed strange to us. We told them we would go to the
office as prisoners, but not in military drill. This we were allowed to do,
and we did it with such coolness that one of the officers was heard to
remark: “That fellow is no coward and might make a splendid field officer if
he only had the right disposition in him.”
We were assigned with Wenlock Reynolds and another Friend to a battery of
artillery. Military clothing was given us but we declined it. We were sent
at once to Kinston and placed in a battery of horse-artillery. Next day we
were all three ordered to drill with the rest, but refusing to take arms, we
were told by the lieutenant to consider ourselves under arrest for disobeying
orders. Much curiosity was aroused among the men, many of whom could not seem
to realize that religion had anything in it to justify exemption from
military duty, in a case of necessity like this; and one said:
“He that protects not his house has denied the faith and is worse than an infidel.”
To this I replied that the Scripture did not read in that way. He insisted
that he had quoted it correctly, but, taking a New Testament from my pocket,
I soon proved him wrong. He said that “provide” meant the same as “protect,”
anyway. I told him to apply to the dictionary and he would find the meaning
very different; that we believed it our duty to
“provide things honest in the sight of all men,”
but when called upon to protect, in the sense in which he used the word, it
was contrary to the precepts of Christ, who with his disciples taught that we
should
“resist not evil,”“do violence to no man,”“they that take the sword shall perish with the sword,”“be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good,”
etc. One man
called out: “That man is right; it is as he says,” and thereupon they grew
divided among themselves, and the officers became angry and ordered us up to
the general’s headquarters.
General Ransom had been informed of our position, and meeting us at the gate
of his office said that he was a man of decision and would have “no
equivocations nor prevarications” from us; as to our religion, we should not
bring that up, for he knew as much about that as he cared to know. His
decision was already made. We could go on duty under arms, pay the tax
settled upon, or go to the salt-works, and he would give us as much time as
we wanted to make our decision, but under the following circumstances: to be
shut up in prison under guard, without one morsel of anything to eat or
drink, or any communication with any one until we complied with his orders.
We were then taken to the provost-marshal’s office to receive the execution
of our sentence. He advised us to pay the tax, as it was a great privilege
which thousands would gladly avail themselves of. We told him that to us it
was not a matter of dollars and cents; that this had no bearing with us; it
was a matter of principle, in which our religious liberty was interfered
with. Wenlock Reynolds concluded, however, to pay the tax and was discharged.
But my brother and I could not feel free to do so and went to the prison to
share alike our fate.
The captain of the guard seemed at first harsh and rough in his manner, but
a little incident, small though it may seem, took hold of his feelings.
After committing us to the room and charging the guard in our presence to
keep us with all diligence, he told them not to allow any communication
between us and any one else, nor to allow us to have a morsel of any thing
to eat or drink, as the general had ordered. We were impressed that it would
be right to make a full surrender and to trust wholly to a kind Providence,
so we told him we had some cakes and cheese in our valises, that had been
furnished us by our wives at home. We then opened the valises and showed him
before the guards what we had, and told him if it was right to execute such
a sentence, he could take them. “O!” he said, “I guess you might keep that,”
and he seemed very tender, but looking at the guards who were looking at him,
there seemed no way for him to evade the command he had received and given,
and so they took the food away. This circumstance undoubtedly had its effect
in opening the way for future results.
The captain did all he could for us, and thought we had better yield a
little, even at some compromise of principle. He said that Ransom was a
hard general and would see us perish before he would reverse his decision.
Numbers became interested, and Walter Dunn, the provost-marshal, came in to
see us; he labored hard to persuade us that we were in error in trying to
keep to principles that our own church did not contend for; that he had
taken pains to inform himself and we were about all who were giving the
authorities trouble because of religion; he said Wenlock Reynolds had paid
the tax, and why couldn’t we; that we were not subordinate to the decisions
of our church at large. I then took from my pocket a copy of the last yearly
meeting’s minutes and showed him the recorded decisions of that body. He
paused for a while, and then said that we could not see alike, and it was
better to compromise these little prejudices, or opinions, especially when
calamities were upon us. I told him we had no right to compromise with wrong;
we ought to obey God rather than man; and we should not do violence to an
enlightened conscience. All his arguments were answered in a way that was
interesting, if not satisfactory to him, and he then began to inquire into
our condition as prisoners, concerning which he manifestly felt anxious. He
asked if we had not partaken of food or drink since we were put in jail, and
we were able to answer him that we had not, which he seemed to wonder at,
asking over and over particularly. It may be that he suspected the guards had
been feeding us, for we had now been over four days without food or water,
and there was a growing feeling of anxiety concerning us.
The evening before the visit of the marshal, while we were feeling somewhat
thirsty, copious showers of rain fell, and we could have caught water from
the windows as it fell from the eaves of the building. My first thought was,
“that water is providentially sent,” but I felt restrained from taking any of
it. Arousing my brother, who had fallen asleep, I asked him about it, and he
said he thought we had better not. So we went to sleep again. Had we kept the
cakes and cheese or caught the water, we could not have given the answers we
did to the officer’s questions, and this fact seemed more to impress him in
our favor than anything else.
One day a sergeant came in, saying we were the worst men on earth: that we
were committing suicide by willfully starving ourselves to death, and we
would go to hell for it. I told him that he could make no such thing appear
unless he could make it appear that we refused to eat, and that it was
martyrdom we were suffering instead of committing suicide. At this he hung
his head and went away.
The chaplains and others were admitted to convince us of our supposed error
and induce us to change our position. We seldom, if ever, had the second
disagreeable interview with the same person. Their abuse was received with
meekness, and they afterwards rewarded us with kindness.
We felt remarkably preserved during this isolation from human aid, and felt
but little the need of any earthly thing.
The night before our release, Colonel Eaton came to our prison with half a
pint of water and one spoonful of sugar in it, saying: “I have come to
relieve you from this punishment. I have a little water and sugar which I am
happy to furnish you.” I told him if given in a Christian spirit he would be
blessed in the deed. He seemed much affected and very tender, and said he
hoped ever to live in the spirit of doing to others as he would be done by.
The next morning, fully five days after our confinement, a small amount of
food was given us with the statement that the doctors said they must allow
us but little, as much food would endanger our lives. It seemed singular
that after passing such a sentence they should be so anxious to save our
lives, but we soon ascertained that there was more anxiety than we supposed,
and while we were favored to possess our souls in patience, the officers
were much troubled on our account. We found, too, that the citizens were
becoming so aroused that a plot was on foot to release us by a mob if we
were not soon relieved.
A Baptist minister by the name of Thome was admitted to our room soon after
the sentence of starvation had been revoked. He seemed to be in the last
stages of consumption, and said he did not expect to live long, but wanted
to encourage us to be faithful; that he had sympathized with us during our
harsh treatment, and appreciated and endorsed our peace principles; that
their church originally advocated peace principles and ought to to-day, but
by giving away gradually to some disaffected members, they had drifted into
a form of discipline which left their members at liberty. (Cabot Powell, the
Baptist before alluded to, corroborated this statement, and so did Charles
Spurgeon in his lecture on George Fox.) Our friend then told us that he had
become so interested in our case that he had sent a letter by private
messenger to Governor Vance, and had instructed the messenger to wait in
person for a reply and return with it the same night. The governor, by
executive authority, had revoked and set aside the sentence of General Ransom.
“he was pricked with bayonets, but not to an extent to unfit him for duty”
Cartland’s book also includes a letter, dated , from C.S. Venable
concerning conscientious objector Tilghman Vestal:
Your letter of , in behalf of
your nephew, Tilghman Vestal, a private in the
14th Tennessee regiment, has been received. The
general commanding has caused an investigation in his case to be made by the
proper officer. This officer reports that on his refusal to do any duty
whatever or to make arrangements to pay the fine imposed under the law for a
discharge, compulsory means were used on the occasion referred to in your
letter, and he was pricked with bayonets, but not to an extent to unfit him
for duty. This proceeding was probably irregular, and as such not approved by
the commanding general. But he knows but one proper mode of proceeding under
the law, and that is to bring private Vestal before a court-martial for
conduct prejudicial to good order and military discipline, in refusing to do
duty as a soldier.
The law makes but one distinction in the case of the Friends, which allows
them all to escape military service by the payment of the fine imposed. This
not being complied with by Tilghman Vestal, and he being sent by the
authorities as a soldier to the army, the general commanding is compelled to
act in this case as he would in that of any other delinquent soldier.
Vestal at first refused to pay the commutation fine, thinking that this was
the correct Quaker position, but then he learned that his particular Meeting
had decided to be lenient on that issue. By that time, though, he had already
refused, and the authorities were reluctant to let him take advantage of the
commutation fine option. In The Papers of Thomas
Ruffin can be found a
letter that was sent to Confederate President Jefferson Davis to plead his
case:
To the Honorable Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States
America.—
We desire respectfully to present the case of Tilman
R. Vestal whose Mother is a member of the
Religious Society of Friends, a native of North Carolina, but now a resident
of Tennessee. His father, not being a Friend, he does not come under the law
allowing exemption to such, but his mother having carefully instructed him
in the principles of said Society, it appears he has endeavored faithfully
to maintain them. When conscribed and taken to the Western Army he was
offered the privilege of the exemption Act, but declined to avail himself of
it at that time, supposing that such would be the course of friends
generally. He was afterward removed to the Army of General Lee, where after
having endured many trials, he was finally Court-Martialed and sentenced to
imprisonment during the War, for declining to perform military duty. When
Vestal had opportunity of communicating with friends in North Carolina
Yearly Meeting of which his Mother is a member, and learned that said
meeting, had by Minute granted to its members the liberty of availing
themselves of the law of exemption for non-combatants, he also wished to be
allowed the same privilege. The case was brought by appeal before the
Honorable James A. Seddon Secretary of War,
who declined to allow him the privilege because he had once refused it. We
hope it may be the pleasure of the President to allow said Vestal exemption
on the payment of the tax, seeing that his refusal in the first instance to
pay such tax arose from his separation from the body of the Society and
ignorance of what action they had taken in the matter.