Joy and Lamentation
The American Civil War, unlike most other conflicts, did not end with a formal signing of surrender documents by a delegation. While the armies were disbanded through such procedures, the leadership had fled, leaving no one behind to take responsibility.
But things were different now.
Terrified by reports of armed Black soldiers swarming toward them, the leadership practically coerced Jefferson Davis into heading to the negotiation site. Davis was then escorted by Union forces all the way to Washington D.C.
Of course, no one complained about this measure. In fact...
"Why are you only taking the President! Take me too! Take me with you!"
"I was an intelligence officer for the South. Shouldn't I be taken in as well?"
"I was the Deputy Secretary of State for the Confederate States! Please, take me along!"
As if they couldn't bear to stay in Montgomery a moment longer, most high-ranking government officials begged to be escorted to D.C. They were gripped by the fear that if they remained, Black soldiers might burst in and shoot them dead.
The Union Army was bewildered by the high-ranking Southern officials flocking to them, begging to be arrested, but the Southern elite were dead serious.
Of course, not everyone was like that.
"Tsk tsk, even if we lost the war, we should maintain our dignity."
"The Union Army has already entered Montgomery; what could possibly happen?"
"To think we tried to achieve a great cause with such cowards... Ugh, tsk tsk."
Those who insisted on maintaining their pride despite the defeat remained steadfast in their positions. To them, being so terrified of "the darkies" that they begged the Union Army to arrest them was simply too shameful.
But in the midst of this, urgent news arrived.
Secretary Breckinridge drowns while attempting to flee to Mexico via the Rio Grande!
A body, presumed to be that of Secretary Breckinridge—the former Vice President of the United States—has been discovered by fishermen. Given the shattered raft found nearby, it appears he met his end while hastily constructing a vessel to navigate the river...
"...Hmm. Even so, if you lose a war, the logical thing is to go to the capital and ask for forgiveness."
"Th-that’s right, isn't it? We are Southern leaders who maintain our dignity."
"Accepting one's faults is the true definition of courage. We aren't running away; we are showing our courage."
With the news that Breckinridge, who had fled in the dead of night, had been found as a corpse, an absurd situation unfolded where even the high-ranking officials who had insisted on keeping their pride until the end all ended up being escorted to the capital.
And naturally, Jefferson Davis, who was being taken to the capital, heard the news as well.
"...Breckinridge is dead."
"Yes. Under the circumstances, it seems he drowned while attempting to defect to Mexico."
"Ha... what a fool."
For a man who had once been the Vice President of the United States to die by falling into a river while trying to flee to another country was a fact too embarrassing to even mention anywhere.
Even the North, upon hearing the news, was at a loss for how to react, and the South felt the same.
If he had at least been caught and beaten to death by the uprising Black population, they could have made a martyr out of him, but this was just a pathetic way to go.
Dying because he fell into a river while trying to run away alone.
"To think we put such a moron in the position of Secretary... no wonder we lost."
Of course, the truth of the incident might be different. It was entirely possible that someone had forcibly drowned him and that evidence like the broken raft had been fabricated. But how could that ever be proven? With no witnesses and no evidence, Breckinridge was effectively confirmed to be a man who died stupidly after falling into a river while trying to run away alone.
"...You idiot. You should have just been satisfied with a position that fit your station."
Even as he spat out the curse, Davis couldn't shake the bitter feeling lingering on his tongue. He had known Breckinridge wanted to run. He had constantly talked about how the North couldn't chase them as far as Mexico. If he had persuaded him firmly back then, perhaps Breckinridge wouldn't have died. Even if he was an annoying and incompetent man, the fact that he was truly dead left a bitter taste in his heart.
If this, too, was a burden that the loser of a war had to bear, then he had nothing to say. Considering their future, perhaps Breckinridge, by leaving this world early, was spared from seeing even worse sights.
However, Davis's complex state of mind vanished the moment he faced Lincoln in Washington D.C.
"Wh-what? What did you just say? What? G-grant what to the Black people?"
As soon as he heard the absurd nonsense coming from the President's mouth, his thoughts were blown away. It wasn't because his worries were resolved, but because he was so shocked that his mind went completely blank.
"Is there any reason why they shouldn't be granted suffrage?"
"Of course there is! Not only abolishing slavery, but granting them the right to vote is an outrageous act of tyranny!"
"Tyranny? Can you logically explain in what way it is tyranny? It's not as if I'm granting suffrage to every single Black person."
Lincoln demanded only two things from Davis: to agree to all the conditions he proposed and sign the surrender document, and to appear with Lincoln at the official ceremony announcing this document. Davis agreed that having the Presidents of both the North and South declare the end of the war together, with the Southern leadership clearly acknowledging defeat, was the fastest way to settle this chaos.
Most of the conditions were acceptable. No, they were so lenient that it was understandable why Robert E. Lee or Sherman had surrendered so readily. All Southern officials would swear loyalty to the Union and agree to pass the amendment abolishing slavery. If they accepted this, everyone in the South would be granted a special pardon, all Southern states would immediately return to the Union, and each state would be guaranteed maximum autonomy by forming its own governors and legislatures as before. It was a very excellent and generous policy.
Except for that one insane policy of granting suffrage to Black people.
"Have you imagined how much of a threat white people in the South will feel if the darkies get the right to vote?"
"I will say it again: I am not giving the right to vote to all Black people. I am talking about highly educated intellectuals and Black soldiers who actually fought in the struggle."
If he were to set the standard as highly educated intellectuals—that is, those who graduated from college—he wouldn't have much of a complaint. After all, there was no way a Black person who graduated from college would appear in the South. However, he could never accept giving it to Black soldiers. The number of Black people who participated in this rebellion alone was nearly one million; if you counted only the adult men, wouldn't that be over 500,000? This meant that more than 10% of the Black population living in the South would have the right to vote.
"Mr. President, the South will take this as an insult. It is a policy that will only hinder the integration of the North and South."
"Of course, I will not implement this immediately. First, I will pass the 13th Amendment to abolish slavery, and then I will pass the 15th Amendment to ensure that the right to vote cannot be restricted by issues such as race or skin color."
"Mr. President, please understand that this is not a threat, but a genuine concern. If you push this, there may be people who seriously set out to kill you. I am not exaggerating..."
"Of course, that may happen, but if it does, my death will light a fire in the hearts of the citizens. Making a divided nation whole does not simply mean regional integration. If one day this country can become a true land of freedom that embraces white, Black, indigenous, and even Asian people..."
Lincoln looked straight into Davis's eyes and spoke his convictions with such calm.
"I will gladly become a cornerstone for the future."
There was not a hint of firm will or tragic resolve, but that was precisely why it was even more chilling. This man was neither a hypocrite nor a simple fanatic driven by belief. He was the type of person who could throw away his own life for the justice he believed in, all while thinking with thorough rationality. How could one persuade a man who would not stop even if he died?
Davis slumped his shoulders and wrote his name right next to the document where Lincoln's signature was written.
Finally.
The cotton empire that seemed destined to flourish forever had sunk forever. So thoroughly that it could never rise to the surface again.
December 24, 1861, Christmas Eve.
The surrender agreement announced in Washington D.C. spread throughout the South via telegraph. In every major city in each state, wherever people could gather, notices were posted. City hall squares, courthouse steps, in front of churches, post offices.
"Look over there! It looks like there's an announcement!"
"It's a telegram from Washington!"
The rumor spread like wildfire, and people flocked to the squares. A massive crowd. White people with white people, Black people with Black people. The square was filled to the brim, with an invisible line drawn between them. It was so crowded that there wasn't even room to stand, as if everyone in the city had come out.
Local notables climbed onto the platform and unfolded the notice with trembling hands.
"...I will read the statement of His Excellency Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States."
For a moment, the entire square held its breath.
"...I hereby declare that, following discussions with United States President Abraham Lincoln, I have agreed to end all hostilities between the North and South and to the dissolution of the Confederate States."
Clack.
Someone's cane fell to the floor.
"Th-that must be a lie, right?"
"Really...?"
"W-we surrendered? Then what about slavery... what will happen to the slaves in my house!"
Passionate reactions erupted here and there, but the reading continued.
"...The Federal government grants a special pardon to all personnel of the South, requiring only a pledge of loyalty to the Union and consent to the amendments. Each state will immediately return to the Union and be guaranteed maximum autonomy through the election of governors and the formation of state legislatures."
"...Then, does that mean we are pardoned?"
"There's no punishment?"
Those who were anxious about potential punishment reacted with relief. But others...
"That we lost? That's impossible!"
"Even if we surrendered, the spirit of the South will be immortal!"
Those who still could not accept the defeat expressed heated anger. Those who had only longed for the North's victory revealed an undisguised sense of anticipation.
"Of course they will recognize our contribution, right?"
And then.
"Next, I will read the contents of the 13th Amendment."
"...Gasp!"
"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted."
For a brief moment, the entire South was plunged into silence. And then.
"Wh-what?"
"What is that saying! So slavery is illegal?"
A scream, almost like a cry of despair, erupted from one side of the square.
"This makes no sense! That can't be!"
"That bastard Davis has gone mad! How can this be! How can we accept this!"
The faces of the planters, who had been listening with faint hope, crumbled as the strength left their legs. Some knelt right there, while others clutched their heads with both hands and even shed tears.
"My slaves... if this happens, what am I supposed to eat? Who am I supposed to have farm the land next year!"
"This is... this is a fraud. It's a fraud! Who is the state to deprive me of my property! This is an infringement of property rights! It's illegal!"
The wealth accumulated over a lifetime, the property inherited for generations, evaporated in a single moment. However, from the other side of the square, a completely different sound began to be heard.
"The South has surrendered!"
"We are also citizens of the United States!"
Tears also flowed endlessly from the eyes of the Black people, but the meaning was the exact opposite of the planters.
"It's freedom! It's freedom!"
"We are free now!"
Those gathered in the square hugged each other and shouted like crazy, then scattered and ran in all directions. To ensure that there was no one who hadn't heard this happy news. With the wish to share this happiness with everyone as quickly as possible.
"Mom, we aren't being sold anymore, right?"
"Yes... yes, we aren't being sold anymore."
"Freedom! We are free!"
Someone's relief and someone's joy crossed the alleys, went over the hills, and spread to every corner of the South. Lamentation and joy. In the same place, at the same moment, completely different worlds were unfolding.
"Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!"
The South, now fully turning cold in winter, began to heat up with the flame called liberation.