In 1816, a quiet property dispute in Virginia produced one of the most powerful rulings in American constitutional history. Two centuries later, the decision in Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee still determines who gets the last word on the Constitution.

Randall Griffin explains.

Justice Joseph Story. Painting by George Peter Alexander Healy.

Who Owns the Northern Neck?

From the late 1680s to the 1700s, the British Crown granted vast tracts of land in Virginia to the Fairfax family.

During the Revolution, Virginia passed a law that allowed for the confiscation of Loyalists’ property. When Thomas Fairfax, 6th Lord Fairfax of Cameron - despite staying neutral during the Revolutionary War to protect his land - died in December 1781 without an heir in Virginia, the state moved to seize his property.

Part of his property was called the Northern Neck, a massive tract of roughly 300,000-acres along of the northernmost of Virginia’s three peninsulas on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay.

But international agreements complicated things. The Treaty of Paris (1783, which ended the Revolutionary War) and Jay’s Treaty (1795) both protected the property interests of British subjects living in America, essentially nullifying the Virginia confiscation.

The nephew and heir of Lord Fairfax, Denny Martin Fairfax, a British subject who had never lived in Virginia, hired attorneys James and John Marshall and, in the case of Hite v. Fairfax (1786), won recognition as Lord Fairfax’s legal heir.

A year later, the Virginia legislature voided the Fairfax land grant and confiscated the property, granting a portion (739 acres) to David Hunter.

Martin, who had sold his land interest to John and James Marshall, challenged the confiscation. He initially won his court case (Fairfax’s Devisee v. Hunter’s Lessee), but lost on appeal to the Virginia Supreme Court, which upheld the confiscation by ruling that the federal treaties did not cover the dispute in question.

In 1810, the Virginia Court of Appeals upheld Hunter’s claim to the land.

The case was appealed to the Supreme Court, which, in 1813, reversed the Virginia Court of Appeals’ decision. Finding that the Treaty of Paris and Jay’s Treat applied in the dispute, the Court remanded (sent back) the case back to the Virginia court to litigate.

But the Virginia Court, instead of reconsidering the case, set the stage for one of the most important legal battles in American history.

 

The Legal Battle Begins

The Virginia Supreme Court ruled that the US Supreme Court did not have authority over cases beginning in state courts, arguing that Section 25 of the Judiciary Act of 1789 (which established the federal judiciary) was unconstitutional. The Virginia court ruled that both state and federal courts were of equal standing and the supreme decider of the law in their own governments, neither having superiority over the other.

What began as a land dispute had become something much bigger: is Section 25 of the Judiciary Act, which grants the US Supreme Court appellate review over state court cases involving federal law, unconstitutional?

The Virginia courts had said yes, but the Supreme Court said no. Justice Story, writing in a unanimous decision, ruled that federal treaties superseded state laws under Article VI of US Constitution (the Supremacy Clause) and, along with the appellate jurisdiction in Article III, gave federal courts the power to review state decisions involving federal law or the Constitution.

Justice Story rejected the claim that the state and federal courts were co-equal interpreters of the Constitution.

Ultimately, the Supreme Court stated the importance of having a single, coherent interpretation of the Constitution and federal laws rather than each individual state interpreting its own versions.

Justice Story specifically called out Article III, which states that the Supreme Court may review state court decisions.

Article III, Section I: The judicial power of the United States, shall be vested in one Supreme Court, and in such inferior courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish.

Article III, Section II: The judicial power shall extend to all cases, in law and equity, arising under this Constitution, the laws of the United States, and treaties made, or which shall be made, under their authority… to controversies between two or more states; between a state and citizens of another state; between citizens of different states; between citizens of the same state claiming lands under grants of different states, and between a state, or the citizens thereof, and foreign states, citizens, or subjects.

 

Justice Story ruled Congress had specifically granted the Supreme Court the power under Section 25 of the Judiciary Act to review state court decisions when federal issues were involved.

Critics of Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee argued that the decision gave too much authority to the federal judiciary. Virginia judges flatly rejected the Court’s authority, declaring that “the appellate power of the Supreme Court of the United States does not extend to this court.” At the same time, long-standing fears about judicial power resurfaced. As the Anti-Federalist writer ‘Brutus’ had warned decades earlier, the Supreme Court could become “exalted above all other power in the government.” Yet Justice Story defended the ruling as essential to national unity, cautioning that without federal review, “the Constitution… would be different in different states.”

The Supreme Court further upheld its authority in the 1821 case of Cohens v. Virginia, which addressed whether the Supreme Court had the power to hear appeals concerning state criminal cases.

 

Why Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee Still Matters Today

Two centuries after Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee, the Supreme Court still acts as the nation’s final referee, stepping in when state courts and federal law collide. Many court cases we’re familiar with today come from this 1816 ruling.

 

Miranda v. Arizona (1966)

Anyone who has watched a police procedural can probably recite the Miranda rights. The reading of a citizen’s rights during arrest grew from a landmark case involving Ernesto Miranda, whose confession was used against him in an court.

In 1966, Arizona police arrested Miranda for kidnapping and rape. After hours of police questioning, he confessed and signed a written statement. Miranda was not advised of his Constitutional rights, especially that he had the right to remain silent or the right to counsel.

The Arizona courts upheld the conviction. The Supreme Court reviewed the case, and in a 5-4 decision ruled that Miranda’s  Fifth Amendment rights had been violated, creating the famous ‘Miranda warning.’

 

Bush v. Gore (2000)

Most of us remember the disputed 2000 presidential election between George W. Bush and Al Gore.

The case centered on the vote in Florida, where the margins were tiny – only a few hundred votes out of almost six million. Because the margin was so slim, the Florida Supreme Court ordered a manual machine recount, where disputes arose on whether the manual recounts would continue if several counties’ ballots were unclear (inventing the phrase ‘hanging chads’).

The situation dragged on until December 12, 2000, when the Supreme Court, in a 5-4 decision, overruled the Florida Supreme Court and ordered the manual recount stopped. The Court cited that the way the recounts were being conducted in the various counties with no consistent statewide standard violated the Equal Protection Clause. The Court also said that there was not enough time to establish a new recount system before the deadline for selecting presidential electors.

Using the authority it gained from Martin v Hunter’s Lessee, the Supreme Court overturned the Florida supreme court ruling. Bush won Florida by 537 votes, and the state’s electoral votes made him President.

 

Obegefell v Hodges (2015)

Obergefell v. Hodges is considered the landmark decision that legalized same-sex marriage nationwide.

Several same-sex couples across the country had challenged state laws banning same-sex marriages or the refusal to recognize marriages performed in other states. One plaintiff, Jim Obergefell, sued the state of Ohio after it refused to list him as the surviving spouse on his husband’s death certificate.

In another 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court overruled the various state’s laws. In finding that marriage is a fundamental liberty protected by the Fourteenth Amendment, the Court ruled states must allow same-sex marriage and recognize those marriages performed in other states.

Each of these cases shows the same fundamental rule established in Martin v. Hunter’s Lessee, in that state courts may decide cases involving federal law, but the Supreme Court has the ultimate authority to review and correct them if necessary.

What began as a quarrel over confiscated farmland in Virginia two centuries ago ultimately answered a question that still shapes American law today: when state courts and federal law collide, who has the last word?

Later cases since have strengthened Court’s authority, but Martin v Hunter’s Lessee laid the foundation for the Supreme Court to be the last guardian of constitutional rights. By reviewing state court decisions when necessary, the Supreme Court ensured that for generations the civil rights granted under the Constitution would be enforced uniformly nationwide.

 

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The year is 1909. A 75-year-old King Leopold appears calm despite the dreary circumstances and his physical distress. He peacefully welcomed his untimely end. In his final moments he was surrounded by his loyal staff and several members of his family, except his two daughters Princess Louise and Stephanie. After his passing on December 17, 1909 his funeral followed in quick concession, though he wished for it to be a private affair this was ignored and the state provided a formal public display for their dead King. His funeral was met with a public outcry of boos and jeers. This begs the question: who was King Leopold, and how did his actions impact both his private and public life?

Sophie Riley explains.

King Leopold II of Belgium by Louis Gallait.

International Brutality

King Leopold’s interest in the Congo started in the mid 1870s after he reviewed a report by Henry Morton Stanley in which he detailed his exploration of the region and he noted how it had access to uncharted natural resources.

Leopold’s seizure of the Congo began in 1876, when he hosted the Brussels Geographic Conference where he publicly established the International African Association. This was the first step in his humanitarian and scientific campaign in the Congo.

He then moved to active exploration of the area. This involved sending Henry Stanley to the Congo where his mission was to establish over 27 principal stations along the Congo River. These stations would act as signals to the local population and his rival European powers that this was his territory. In addition to this he was also instructed to secure the land rights from the Congolese chiefs through cloth and trinket treaties. Stanley would collect more than 450 treaties from the locals in exchange for cloth, alcohol, and local trinkets. In response the chiefs would place an x on the dotted line of a treaty they could not read and ultimately swore over their land and their states’ sovereignty.  What appeared to be diplomacy revealed itself as deception.

The impact of these treaties would hit the Congolese in several stages. Firstly, in the 1880s some would realize the deception as local chiefs who resisted the Belgians or did not sign the treaties were either replaced or killed. Secondly, Leopold issued a tax decree in which he would claim all the occupied land and its resources as state property. This meant that the villagers were branded as thieves for harvesting their own resources.    

The next phase of Leopold’s plan was to receive recognition for his control of the Congo on the world stage. This recognition would be received through deception; he would use the rising tensions between Britain, Germany, and France to his own end. He went to each country individually and convinced each one that the Congo should remain under neutral Belgium’s control instead of risking it falling into the hands of their rival.  

In addition to this he replaced the International association of the Congo with his own political body to govern the territories that Stanley had acquired a few years earlier.

This chapter in Congo’s independence would close when King Leopold declared himself as the sovereign king of the free Congo state in 1885. Over the next few decades the Congolese would revolt and resist the ongoing takeover of their nation by the Belgians - this would result in millions of Congolese deaths through torture, famine and violence. The Congolese would unfortunately not receive full independence until 1960.

 

Leopold’s Legacy

King Leopold left behind a legacy that was complex and tainted with human suffering and bloodshed. The brutality of his rule in the Congo was so extreme that it drew international condemnation from other European colonists in 1908.  His actions have been described by historians as callous, ruthless, and the almost unrestrained pursuit of power and wealth, raising enduring questions about moral responsibility and imperialist madness.  

Nevertheless, historians and Belgian records have highlighted areas where King Leopold positively impacted the modernization and economic expansion of Belgium during his 44-year reign.  Early in his rule he earned the nickname the builder King for his focus on the urban identity and public health of Belgium.  One of his first initiatives involved engineering a plan to cover the heavily polluted Senne River in 1867, to help stop the spread of cholera. In 1873, he commissioned the Royal Green houses in Laeken which helped advance botanical studies, and in 1880, he oversaw the creation of Cinquantenaire park to celebrate Belgium’s 50th anniversary as an independent state.   

As his reign progressed Leopold shifted his focus towards public education and the economic expansion of Belgium. During this time his government established a state funded school system, and oversaw the modernization and expansion of Antwerp’s docks, transforming the city’s docks into the world’s first commercial port. By the end of this period, Belgium had expanded significantly in both economic strength and national infrastructure, while political reforms extended universal suffrage to all men.

In the last years of his reign, Leopold’s focus shifted towards social reform and the question of his legacy. His last decade saw the introduction of laws that would change the daily lives of his citizens. Child labor for children under the age of 12 was abolished, and the restrictive worker’s booklet which had restricted their mobility was removed. However, these reforms were met by more controversial measures, including the introduction of compulsory military service where one son per family would have to serve 15 months in the army.    

Despite what he did in the Congo, Leopold’s reputation within Belgium remained largely intact. It would take over 90 years for the Belgians to shift their perspective. The catalyst for change started in 1999 when Adam Hochschild wrote a book entitled King Leopold’s Ghost. His book was met with high acclaim due to its in-depth view on Leopold’s colonial atrocities in the Congo. While being widely acclaimed, the book reopened old wounds within Belgian society, particularly for the older conservative generation who still believed that Leopold was an ambitious hero.

In contrast the younger generations alongside many institutions began to question the narrative of their past, and this led to the gradual removal of statues of their former king.  

This reckoning reached a turning point in 2020, amid global protests against racism in response to the murder of US citizen George Floyd. In Belgium, statues of King Leopold were either defaced or spray painted red with the words assassin or I cannot breathe. While none were officially destroyed, this would eventually lead to some statues being placed into museum storage. Due to the public’s tenacity, the Prime Minister at the time, Charles Michel, would apologize for the kidnapping of mixed-race children during the 1940s and 1950s. However, no formal apology has been made towards the Congolese people for the atrocities committed under Leopold’s rule, with the Belgian state offering admissions of regret rather than full acknowledgement.  It is within the tension between remembrance and reckoning that Leopold’s legacy must ultimately be understood.  

 

Final Thoughts

In the end, the story of King Leopold II resists a simple verdict. He was a ruler who reshaped Belgium’s cities, economy, and institutions, yet he also presided over one of the most brutal colonial regimes in modern European history. These two legacies do not cancel each other out but they do exist side by side, forcing us to confront the uncomfortable reality that progress and suffering are often intertwined.  

Leopold’s life and legacy reveals as much about the present as it does the past.  The conversation surrounding his actions has shifted from admiration to scrutiny, from silence to debate.

 

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Union cavalrymen appeared on the cliffs above the Confederate camp.  “Who are you down there” shouted one of the horsemen.  “Texans, goddamn you” was the reply.  Pleasantries completed, the riders dismounted, clambered down the cliff, brushed aside the few defenders, and secured the camp.  The Confederate conquest of the Southwest had come to a screeching halt.

Here, James F. Byrne Jr looks at the 1862 Battle of Glorieta Pass.

The Battle of Glorieta Pass - Pigeon's Ranch by Roy Andersen.

The outbreak of the Civil War found the U.S. Army occupying ten outposts in the New Mexico territory.  Offered command of U.S. troops in the territory, Colonel Henry Sibley instead took  ownership of all the arms and supplies he could seize and departed with his plunder for Texas and a commission in the Confederate Army.

Sibley saw the weak Union presence in the Southwest as an opportunity to march into Colorado and then westward to California.  Rebel occupation of the Southwest would provide access to mineral resources  and  Pacific ports.  Pursuing his vision of a Confederate manifest destiny, Sibley set up headquarters in San Antonio and recruited a 3000 man army.   He struck north up the Rio Grande in February 1862.

Future events were to reveal Sibley’s leadership shortcomings.  His tactical acumen did not match his strategic vision, and he failed to fully consider supply requirements when developing his grandiose plans.  But his most significant shortcoming was captured in the nickname bestowed on him by his subordinates – the walking whiskey keg.

Sibley’s invasion was opposed by Colonel Edward Canby, who proved adept at husbanding his own combat strength while enabling Sibley’s to wither away.  Canby consolidated his scattered forces at Fort Craig, 170 miles north of El Paso, and unsuccessfully attacked Sibley’s column as it approached the nearby Valverde ford.  Beaten but not defeated, Canby retreated to his fortifications while Sibley continued north, occupying Santa Fe in mid-March.

 

Fort Union

Sibley had won a major battle and seized the territorial capital.  However, if his campaign were to continue, he needed to capture the supplies at Fort Union, 110 miles north along the Santa Fe Trail.  Fortunately for the Union cause, 1000 volunteers from Colorado commanded by Colonel John Slough were  moving rapidly south to reinforce the fort.  However once at Fort Union Slough disregarded instructions to remain there, and soon moved his command down the trail.

Twenty three miles east of Santa Fe at Glorieta Pass, Slough’s advance guard encountered and drove back Confederate scouts.  Informed of the setback, the walking whiskey barrel ordered up additional troops under the command of Col William Scurry.  As Scurry advanced, he left the army’s supply train in a small canyon west of the pass.  At midday on March 28th the battle was joined at the pass, and Scurry soon gained the upper hand, driving Slough back up the trail.

However, Slough had earlier detached 500 cavalrymen to move over an adjacent mesa and strike the flank of the Confederate column.  After hours of meandering, the cavalrymen arrived at a cliff overlooking the supply encampment.  Scattering the startled defenders, they set ablaze the captured supply wagons loaded with ammunition, food, and medical supplies.  Within an hour the Union force departed, leaving behind smoldering ruins and the shattered dreams of the Confederate conquest of the Southwest.

Up at the pass the main Union force continued to slowly withdraw, leaving the Confederates in possession of the battlefield.  However, as one rebel soldier described the situation, “here we are 1000 miles from home, not a wagon, not a dust of flower, not a pound of meat.” 

The “victorious” rebel force retreated down the Rio Grande while Canby herded the increasingly bedraggled invaders out of the territory.  Following a devastating 1000 mile march the tattered remnants of the Confederate column staggered back into San Antonio.  Over 40% of the proud “Texans, goddamn you” who struck the Santa Fe Trail in February, remained there in shallow graves.

Sibley was courts martialed for drunkenness and cowardice in 1863.  Elements of his defeated  army spent the remainder of the war fighting in Texas and Louisiana.  The remnants surrendered in Houston at the end of the war, a long way from the Pacific ports they sought in the heady days of 1862.

 

Lessons Learned

·       Armies need supplies.  “Hand waving” logistics planning is seldom an effective approach.

·       Do not assume you can live off the land.  An arid wasteland provides few opportunities for supplementing needed supplies. 

·       Tactical victories do not guarantee success.   Confederate “victories” weakened the force and left it unable to achieve strategic objectives. 

·       Victory does not require annihilation.  Slough kept his outnumbered force intact and allowed the enemy to self-destruct.

·       Do not bring a knife to a gunfight.  Sibley’s force was inadequate for the mission of securing half a continent.

·       Leadership is a combat multiplier.  Rank and file contempt for Sibley’s keen sense of self-preservation eventually hobbled the army’s morale and fighting ability.

·       Force protection matters.  Scurry’s failure to protect his supply train doomed the entire Confederate campaign.

 

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At the start of the Civil War, the 1806 Articles of War was the only official document governing how the US military governed itself during conflicts. Based in large part on the British articles, it mainly stipulated the characterization and response to drunkenness, insubordination, desertion, etc. in other words, internal management. The 1806 Articles of War were revised with the Lieber Code (1863), to legally allow the Union Army to combat Confederate guerrillas and enemy civilians. The Lieber Code became the military law that governed the wartime conduct of the Union Army by defining and describing command responsibility for war crimes and crimes against humanity; and the military responsibilities of the Union soldier fighting against the Confederate States of America.

Lloyd W Klein explains.

Francis Lieber.

On April 24, 1863, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln issued “General Orders No. 100: Instructions for the Government of the Armies of the United States in the Field,” commonly known as the “Lieber Code” after its main author Francis (Franz) Lieber. The Lieber Code set out rules of conduct during hostilities for Union soldiers throughout the U.S. Civil War. Even today, it remains the basis of most regulations of the laws of war for the United States and is referred to in the foreword to the Department of Defense Laws of War Manual. The Lieber Code inspired other countries to adopt similar rules for their military and was used as a template for international efforts in the late 19th century to codify the laws and customs of war.

Lieber started with the problems raised by the US Army presence as an invading army on enemy soil that hadn’t been encountered by the US in the 3 previous wars. The Lieber Code was the first US attempt to codify the laws of war. Although they were binding only on the forces of the United States, they correspond to a great extent to the laws and customs of war existing at that time. There are 157 articles, and can be found here: https://ihl-databases.icrc.org/en/ihl-treaties/liebercode-1863

Although made as a sincere attempt to make warfare more civilized, it failed to do so materially in the Civil War. This was a significant lesson in history which needed to be learned in practice. This paper looks at specific articles of the Lieber Code and identifies why it failed to succeed in its task.

 

Specific Codes of War

1. Reprisals Against Civilians and Prisoners

Lieber Code (Article 27, 28, 59): Permitted reprisals against civilians and even prisoners under certain conditions—such as when the enemy engaged in unlawful warfare or mistreated POWs.

Geneva Conventions (1949): Strictly prohibit reprisals against protected persons (civilians, POWs, medical personnel).

Example: Article 13 of Geneva III (POWs) and Article 33 of Geneva IV (civilians) forbid all reprisals against those groups.

2. Destruction of Civilian Property as Hard War

Lieber Code (Articles 14, 15, 44, 50): Permitted the widespread destruction of civilian property, including homes, food stores, and infrastructure, if justified by military necessity.

Geneva Conventions (Additional Protocol I, Article 52): Prohibit the indiscriminate destruction of civilian property and infrastructure unless there is a direct military advantage.

Example: Sherman’s March—burning crops, homes, and public buildings—was lawful under the Lieber Code but would likely be considered disproportionate or indiscriminate today.

3. Use of Starvation as a Military Strategy

Lieber Code (Article 17): Acknowledged that starving the enemy, including civilians in fortified places, could be a lawful strategy. Article 17 provides that it is lawful to starve civilians:

‘War is not carried on by arms alone. It is lawful to starve the hostile belligerent, armed or unarmed, so that it leads to the speedier subjection of the enemy.’

This is no longer legal in warfare.

The code basically built in a loophole: that none of its principles applied if by breaking them, a war’s end would be expedited.

Geneva Conventions (Protocol I, Article 54): Explicitly forbid starvation of civilians as a method of warfare.

Modern precedent: The use of siege warfare to starve civilians in Syria and elsewhere has been condemned as a war crime under international law.

4. Execution of Irregular Combatants Without Trial

Lieber Code (Articles 82–85): Allowed summary execution of guerrillas, spies, and other irregulars (e.g., Franc-tireurs) without due process.

Geneva Conventions: Require fair trial guarantees even for irregular combatants or suspected spies.

Example: Geneva Convention III, Article 84, ensures POWs cannot be sentenced without proper judicial process.

5. Permissibility of Occupation Requisitions Without Compensation

Lieber Code (Article 52): Allowed occupying forces to requisition supplies from civilians without compensation, depending on circumstances.

Geneva Conventions (Article 53, Geneva IV): Allow requisitions only under strict limitations, and generally require compensation.

 

One of the more contentious issues addressed in the Lieber Code was the treatment of fugitive and freed slaves that entered the Union territory. Lieber took the view that international law did not distinguish between people based on color (Art. 58) and that the law of nature and nations has never acknowledged slavery (art. 42). He therefore included provisions that held that fugitive slaves that escaped to the North became free (Arts. 42, 43) and that all soldiers no matter their skin color must be awarded POW status (Art.57).

 

Finally, in modern warfare, were a commander to order soldiers to enter a home to steal valuables and they instead murdered the man and raped the women, the commander as well as the soldiers would be breaking the rules; but under the Lieber Code, the commander would not be considered to have done anything illegal.

https://blogs.loc.gov/law/2018/04/the-lieber-code-the-first-modern-codification-of-the-laws-of-war/

 

The chapter on “military necessity” is a well-known part of the Lieber Code which one author calls its “greatest theoretical contribution to the modern law of war.” The Lieber Code allows the use of military force which is justified by “military necessity,” defined as “measures which are indispensable for securing the ends of the war, and which are lawful according to the modern law and usages of war.” (Art. 14).

This loophole no longer exists for the most obvious reason that it is ensures that no rule of law would apply. The appropriate balance between military necessity and humane behavior remains controversial. Lieber was specific that mlitary necessity is limited by the principle of humanity.

 

The Lieber Code therefore states in article 16 that:

“Military necessity does not admit of cruelty—that is, the infliction of suffering for the sake of suffering or for revenge, nor of maiming or wounding except in fight, nor of torture to extort confessions. It does not admit of the use of poison in any way, nor of the wanton devastation of a district. It admits of deception, but disclaims acts of perfidy; and, in general, military necessity does not include any act of hostility which makes the return to peace unnecessarily difficult.”

 

Application to Sherman’s March

“ We are not only fighting hostile armies, but a hostile people, and must make old and young, rich and poor, feel the hard hand of war.” – William T Sherman

 

The Union army cut a swath of devastation approximately 60 miles wide and 300 miles long from Atlanta to Savannah. The severity of the destruction varied by location and depended on the resistance encountered, but overall, it was devastating. The troops dismantled railroad tracks, heating and twisting them to make them unusable and irreparable. Telegraph lines and bridges were also destroyed to cripple Confederate communication and transportation. Soldiers confiscated livestock, burned crops, and destroyed mills to deprive the Confederacy of essential supplies.

Sherman's march to the sea. By F. O. C. Darley.

Bringing the “hard hand of war” to civilians — especially as practiced by Union forces in campaigns like Sherman’s March — sits at the uneasy intersection of morality, military necessity, and the evolving laws of war. The Lieber Code (General Orders No. 100, issued April 1863) provided a legal and ethical framework for Union conduct during the Civil War. It did permit certain harsh measures against civilians under the doctrine of military necessity, but also imposed limits and obligations to avoid cruelty for its own sake.

The Lieber Code recognized that war sometimes requires harsh treatment, including against civilians, if they support or aid the enemy. Key sections include:

Article 14: “Military necessity… consists in the necessity of those measures which are indispensable for securing the ends of the war.”

Article 15: Military necessity does not admit of cruelty, torture, or wanton devastation.

Article 17: It is lawful to starve the hostile belligerent, armed forces or civilians, to reduce them into submission — but only as a measure of necessity.

Article 44: Destruction of property is lawful if demanded by the necessities of war.

 

Sherman argued his actions were not cruel for cruelty’s sake, but necessary to shorten the war and reduce total bloodshed. He avoided mass killings and tried to maintain discipline, though looting and violence did occur.

 

Arguments for moral justification:

It was a lesser evil: harsh tactics avoided longer, bloodier battles.

It targeted infrastructure and morale, not mass murder.

It followed legal principles of military necessity as codified in the Lieber Code.

 

Arguments against:

Civilians, especially women, children, and the elderly, bore undue suffering.

The line between necessity and punishment blurred.

In practice, looting and sporadic personal violence violated the spirit, if not always the letter, of the Code.

 

The Lieber Code allowed the application of the hard hand of war to civilians under strict conditions of military necessity. Sherman’s actions were arguably within its bounds, though the morality remains debatable. The Code tried to humanize war within the brutal logic of total conflict — but in practice, it offered a legal cover for actions that tested the limits of ethical warfare.

The March created severe food shortages for both civilians and the Confederate army. Many homes, barns, and businesses were burned, though some private homes were spared, especially if their occupants did not resist. Public buildings, factories, and Confederate government facilities were often deliberately targeted. Although the march inflicted severe hardship on the civilian population through widespread destruction, it was not intended to be, nor was it officially conducted as, a campaign of deliberate personal violence against civilians. While civilians undoubtedly suffered as their homes, livelihoods, and communities were devastated by the march, the intent was to break the Confederacy’s ability to wage war rather than to deliberately harm the civilian population.

The extent of the damage was severe, and arguably, the South never fully recovered from its effects. The march inflicted an estimated $100 million (equivalent to billions today) in damage. Although Savannah was largely spared destruction when it surrendered without a fight, cities like Atlanta, Milledgeville, and Griswoldville suffered heavy damage. Thousands of enslaved people fled plantations to follow Sherman’s army, further disrupting the Southern economy and labor force.

While the campaign inflicted significant damage, especially to infrastructure and Confederate military resources, some myths have overstated the extent of civilian suffering and total devastation. While Atlanta was heavily damaged, Savannah was largely spared because it surrendered without a fight. Many towns along the march suffered property destruction, but not all were burned to the ground. There is no evidence of mass killings of civilians. While foraging was often aggressive and left many families struggling, Union soldiers were under orders to avoid unnecessary harm to noncombatants. While some private homes were burned, most destruction focused on railroads, factories, mills, and farms that supported the Confederate war effort. Some homes were looted or destroyed if resistance was encountered, but not all were systematically targeted. 

 

In 1864, the convention that dictated the rules of war was The Lieber Code (1863): A set of military regulations issued by the U.S. during the Civil War, which influenced later international laws. Sherman’s March was within the law set by code, but it went right up to the line, thanks to certain exceptions and in some cases, beyond.

 

Let’s look at a few of its provisions and see what happened on the March. 

Article 15

 – Military necessity allows destruction of enemy forces and materials, but not cruelty for its own sake.

Sherman’s view: Destroying infrastructure, supplies, and morale was a legitimate strategy to shorten the war. He believed “hard war” would reduce bloodshed in the long run.

Technically adherent—Sherman could argue that all actions were militarily necessary. But looting and personal attacks on women, children, and the elderly can’t be defended by this clause. 

 

Article 17

Sherman’s March can be defended under Article 17 of the Lieber Code as a harsh but lawful application of military necessity. However, it tests the limits of that doctrine

Article 17 of the Lieber Code does not explicitly allow the deliberate starvation of civilians. However, it does create legal and moral space for actions that may incidentally cause civilian suffering—if those actions are deemed necessary for military success.

“War is not carried on by arms alone. It is lawful to starve the hostile belligerent, armed or unarmed, so that it leads to the speedier subjection of the enemy.”

Therefore, by saying the idea was to hasten the end of the war, legally Sherman could say it was military necessity to starve women and children and the elderly. A great example of how Sherman went right up to the line of legality, but did not cross it.

 

Article 22

 – The unarmed citizen is to be spared in person, property, and honor as much as possible consistent with military necessity.

Reality on the ground: Civilians were subjected to:Home invasions, looting, threats

Destruction of food, tools, personal items

Occasional physical violence and

 unprosecuted sexual assault

Technically compliant only if military necessity is broadly interpreted. In practice, this principle was often undermined by lack of discipline, particularly among foraging parties (“bummers”).

 

Article 31

 – A victorious army may appropriate supplies but must distinguish between military and private property

Sherman’s orders:

Special Field Orders No. 120 instructed foraging but prohibited personal pillaging and trespass.

Enforcement was inconsistent, and in practice, private homes and valuables were often looted.

Violated in practice, though Sherman issued technically legal orders. He at times turned a blind eye to violations, perhaps often,  prioritizing momentum and morale. If foragers drove off an old lady’s cows, for example, this is not covered under the Lieber Code, unless that old lady was a military threat or assisting the war effort, or generally to hasten the end of the war. This is how Sherman could say he was working under the Lieber Code.

 

Article 44

 – All wanton violence against persons, especially women and children, is prohibited.

No widespread directive or sanction for such violence from Sherman, but:

Documented instances of abuse, harassment, and some killings of civilians.

Rape likely occurred, though not prosecuted.

 Not directly ordered, but tolerated through weak enforcement.

Article 51

 – Military commanders must try to restore public order and protect persons and property in occupied areas.

Sherman’s army often left chaos in its wake—most notably the burning of Columbia, SC, where drunkenness, looting, and fire caused mass civilian displacement.

 

Technically breached—Sherman and his officers failed to control their troops in several instances.

One of the Lieber Code’s most crucial provisions is Article 22, which declares the importance of “the distinction between the private individual belonging to a hostile country and the hostile country itself.” Article 22 puts forward “the principle…. that the unarmed citizen is to be spared in person, property, and honor as much as the exigencies of war will admit.”

 

Key provisions of the Code on civilian property include:

Protection of Civilians: The code emphasizes the protection of civilian persons and property from military operations.

Prohibition of Destruction: It prohibits the destruction of civilian property unless absolutely necessary for military operations.

Respect for Private Property: The code instructs military personnel to respect private property and avoid unnecessary harm.

 Articles 37, 38, 46 & 47.cover this area as well.

 

It’s anyone’s subjective interpretation as to whether or not what Sherman ordered, versus what was often carried out, fits within these precepts. Either way, it’s a very close call.

Lieber himself was uncertain how to apply the principles. Military necessity, Lieber wrote, “allows of all destruction of property, and obstruction of the ways and channels of traffic, travel, or communication, and of all withholding of sustenance or means of life from the enemy; [and] of the appropriation of whatever an enemy’s country affords necessary for the subsistence and safety of the army.” Rather than constrain hard war, such language helped to make it possible.

https://encyclopediavirginia.org/entries/hard-war-in-virginia-during-the-civil-war/

 

Examples of personal injury and attacks: There were documented instances of personal violence against noncombatants, especially theft, property destruction, intimidation, and some physical abuse. While not officially sanctioned, these acts occurred frequently enough to be a recognized part of the civilian experience of the march. They highlight the blurred line between “hard war” and civilian victimization and are critical to understanding the real human impact of Sherman’s campaign. These accounts show theft, intimidation, physical abuse, and psychological terror, though—as with all wartime narratives—some must be read with attention to context, bias, and verification.

 

What Is the Function of Rules of War?

Whether creating rules or laws to govern war is t one of history’s most painful and persistent tensions: the desire for moral restraint versus the brutal realities of war. Are the “rules” or “laws” of war phony? No, they’re not phony—but they are imperfect and often inconsistently applied. The laws of war, such as those codified in the Lieber Code (1863), the Hague Conventions (1899, 1907), and the Geneva Conventions (especially after WWII), are real legal instruments. They’re backed by treaties, military doctrine, and in some cases, courts (like the International Criminal Court).

 

These laws serve several purposes:

Limit unnecessary suffering, especially of civilians and prisoners.

Maintain some moral legitimacy—for both domestic and international audiences.

Prevent escalation into unbounded barbarism (e.g., genocide, torture as routine policy).

Set standards for holding individuals accountable (think of the Nuremberg Trials or modern war crimes prosecutions).

 

However: Enforcement is uneven, often dependent on power dynamics. Victors rarely face the same scrutiny as the losers. States violate them regularly, sometimes justifying actions as “military necessity.” Non-state actors may ignore them entirely. So yes, there is hypocrisy—but that doesn’t mean the rules are fake. They are aspirational boundaries in an inherently chaotic and destructive endeavor.

 

Is winning all that matters? Militarily, winning ends the war. But how you win shapes the peace—and your legacy. If “winning” alone were the only standard:

Atrocities would become normalized.

Reprisals would spiral, making wars bloodier and longer.

The legitimacy of power would corrode, both domestically and abroad.

 

History is full of cautionary tales: the legitimacy of power depends on how its used. Overly severe punishment of the losers leads to long-lasting enmity . For example:

·       Sherman’s March was brutally effective, yet carefully (if controversially) calibrated under the laws of war at the time. It was one of the events leading to the Lost Cause.

·       Our treatment of Native Americans especially as illustrated at Sand Creek was abominable: immoral and illegal. Our relations with our aboriginal brothers remain tense over a century later.

·       The terms of the WW1 peace led almost directly to WW2.

·       Nazi Germany won many early battles, but their brutality turned most of the world against them.

·       The US offered Germany the Marshall Plan after WW2 while the Russian raped their way through the country. How has that turned out?

·       The My Lai Massacre during Vietnam might have had no strategic benefit but inflicted lasting moral and political damage on the U.S. As did napalming villages randomly.

Ethics in war isn’t about being gentle—it’s about staying human. Even amidst destruction, maintaining rules is an act of defiance against the abyss. Its a false binary to offer either winning or being humane. A civilized nation tries to do both. How you win determines who you become and whether your victory can endure the peace that follows.

 

Summary

The Lieber Code was written to provide a moral framework to guide the conduct of modern war. In that sense, it was a humanitarian step forward and became the basis of modern rules of war set under the Geneva Conventions. However, General Sherman used a loophole to get around its application in the March to the Sea. It is arguable that this loophole was expressly inserted for this purpose.

 

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones

In the long and often turbulent history of the Medal of Honor, one name stands entirely alone: Mary Edwards Walker. She remains the only woman ever to have received the United States' highest military decoration, and her life was as unconventional as the distinction itself. A surgeon, reformer, prisoner of war, and tireless advocate for women's rights, Walker's story is inseparable from the upheaval of the American Civil War, a conflict that reshaped the nation and, in her case, opened a narrow but historic path into military service.

Terry Bailey explains.

Mary Edwards Walker.

Mary Edwards Walker was born in 1832 in Oswego County, New York, into a household that quietly defied many of the era's expectations. Her parents were progressive thinkers who believed firmly in education, self-reliance, and physical health. Her father, a farmer with reformist views, insisted that his daughters receive the same rigorous schooling as his sons—an unusual stance in mid-nineteenth-century America. From an early age, Mary absorbed the idea that intellectual capacity was not determined by gender. She also rejected restrictive clothing, later arguing that heavy skirts and corsets were both unhealthy and symbolic of women's social confinement.

Her determination led her to pursue a medical career at a time when female physicians were rare and frequently dismissed. She enrolled at Syracuse Medical College, one of the few institutions willing to admit women, and graduated in 1855 with a Doctor of Medicine degree. Even with credentials in hand, she struggled to establish a practice. Patients were hesitant to trust a woman doctor, and professional networks largely excluded her. Yet she persevered, convinced that her skills would eventually find their proper arena.

That arena emerged with the outbreak of civil war in 1861. As the Union and Confederate states mobilized for what would become a four-year struggle of unprecedented scale, medical services were rapidly overwhelmed. Disease—typhoid, dysentery, pneumonia—claimed more lives than bullets, and battlefield surgery was often conducted in makeshift tents or barns with limited anesthesia and rudimentary sterilization. Determined to serve, Walker travelled to Washington, D.C., and petitioned the War Department for a commission as an army surgeon. She was refused solely because she was a woman.

Undeterred, she offered her services as a volunteer and began working in Union hospitals. Over time, her persistence and demonstrated competence earned her a contract appointment as an acting assistant surgeon with the Army of the Cumberland. This placed her in the Western Theatre of the war, where campaigns through Tennessee and Georgia were marked by relentless maneuvering and ferocious engagements. The struggle for control of strategic rail hubs such as Chattanooga and the drive toward Atlanta produced waves of wounded soldiers, and medical personnel worked under constant strain.

Walker frequently placed herself near the front lines, tending not only to Union troops but, when possible, to civilians caught in the crossfire. Her medical practice was guided by both professional duty and humanitarian conviction. In April 1864, during operations connected to the Atlanta Campaign, she crossed into territory controlled by Confederate forces to treat wounded men and suffering civilians. It was a bold and dangerous act. Confederate soldiers arrested her, suspecting that a woman in modified military attire moving between lines must be a spy. She was transported to Richmond, Virginia, and held as a prisoner of war. Confinement was harsh, food scarce, and uncertainty constant. Yet Walker endured several months of captivity before being exchanged in August 1864 as part of a formal prisoner swap. Her experience gave her a rare distinction: she was one of the few women formally held as a prisoner of war during the conflict.

In 1865, after the war had drawn to a close, President Andrew Johnson signed the order awarding Mary Edwards Walker the Medal of Honor. The citation recognized her meritorious service, devotion to the wounded, and steadfastness during captivity. Although the criteria for the award were broader in the nineteenth century than they would later become, her work near the front lines and her imprisonment under enemy authority were extraordinary by any standard.

Decades later, in 1917, a review board reassessed earlier awards and rescinded hundreds of Medals of Honor deemed inconsistent with newly tightened combat requirements. Walker's medal was among those revoked. She refused to surrender it, asserting that her service had been honorable and that no bureaucratic revision could erase lived reality. She continued to wear the medal daily, a small but potent act of defiance. In 1977, long after her death, the U.S. government restored her award, reaffirming her singular place in American military history.

Walker's postwar years were as combative in their own way as her time in uniform. She became a prominent advocate for women's suffrage, lecturing across the country and arguing that the Constitution already guaranteed women the right to vote. Her reformist zeal extended to dress reform; she adopted tailored jackets and trousers, insisting that practicality and health should outweigh social convention. For this she was ridiculed and occasionally arrested for "impersonating a man," yet she remained resolute. While she sometimes clashed with more cautious leaders within the suffrage movement, her independence and courage commanded respect.

Mary Edwards Walker died in 1919, just one year before the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment secured women's suffrage nationwide. She did not live to cast a ballot in a federal election, but her life had already redefined the boundaries of possibility. In war, she proved that medical skill and personal bravery transcended gender. In peace, she continued to challenge the assumptions that had once barred her from a commission. Her Medal of Honor—awarded, revoked, and restored—serves as more than a military decoration. It stands as a testament to endurance in the face of prejudice, to professional commitment under fire, and to a lifetime spent pressing against the limits imposed by society. In Mary Edwards Walker's story, the upheaval of civil war intersected with the broader struggle for equality, and from that intersection emerged a legacy unlike any other in American history.

 

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones

Early in the U.S. Civil War a prison exchange system was developed by agreement between the two sides. It called for equal exchanges of all soldiers captured based on rank. Once exchanged, these soldiers could return to their units. The balance remaining after equal exchanges were to be paroled, and not to take up arms again until they were formally exchanged.

Lloyd W Klein explains.

John A. Dix.

The Dix-Hill Cartel

On July 22, 1862, Union Maj Gen John A Dix and Confederate Major General Daniel Harvey Hill concluded an agreement for the general exchange of prisoners between the Union and Confederate armies. A scale of equivalents was developed wherein an officer might be exchanged for a certain number of enlisted men, or might entail a parole in which no military capacity was allowed until officially exchanged. Officers were exchanged for more soldiers than others. The operation of the system was:

Soldiers of equivalent ranks would be exchanged on a one to one value,

Corporals and sergeants were worth two privates,

Lieutenants were worth four privates,

A captain was worth six privates,

A major was worth eight privates,

A lieutenant colonel was worth 10 privates,

A colonel was worth 15 privates,

A brigadier general was worth 20 privates,

A major general was worth 40 privates, and

A commanding general was worth 60 privates.

 

The Exchange System worked well in 1862 but there were irregularities on both sides, in which paroled men nevertheless rejoined their units. Edwin Stanton wanted to suspend the exchanges because he felt that southern soldiers weren’t following the rules of the parole. Secretary Stanton saw a potential for Union soldiers to abuse the parole system. The Confederates had begun paroling a number of Western prisoners unilaterally, including some two thousand taken at the April 1862 battle of Shiloh. The violations continued with the parolees from Vicksburg and Port Hudson.

Storming Fort Wagner.

Cessation of the Cartel and Its Implications

In September of 1862, President Lincoln called for the enlistment of black soldiers into the Union Armies as part of the preliminary draft of the Emancipation Proclamation. In December 1862, President Davis responded by issuing a proclamation that neither captured black soldiers nor their white officers would be subject to exchange. That the black soldiers were fugitive slaves and subject to capital punishment.

In January 1863 the Emancipation Proclamation became official and the United States began the active recruitment of black soldiers. Jefferson Davis was incensed by this, and threatened severe actions.

President Davis made an official proclamation that black POWs were fugitive slaves. In May 1863, the Confederate Congress passed a joint resolution that formalized Davis' proclamation that black soldiers taken prisoner would not be exchanged: “That all commissioned officers in the command of said Benjamin F. Butler be declared not entitled to be considered as soldiers engaged in honorable warfare but as robbers and criminals deserving death, and that they and each of them be whenever captured reserved for execution.” Find the proclamation here: http://www.freedmen.umd.edu/pow.htm

 

The Lieber Code

Lincoln’s response was to assure that The Lieber Code, General Order 100, issued in April 1863, responded to this crisis. The Lieber Code was not written as a direct reaction to the collapse of the Dix–Hill Cartel or Jefferson Davis’s refusal to recognize Black Union soldiers as lawful combatants. But the final form, timing, and political purpose of the code were very heavily shaped by those crises. In effect, the breakdown of prisoner exchange and Confederate policy toward Black soldiers turned the Lieber Code from a general effort to codify the laws of war into a strategic and moral response to the Confederacy’s stance.

Work on the code had begun in 1862, well before the collapse of the prisoner-exchange system.

Henry Halleck had long wanted an American codification of the laws of war. Francis Lieber had been thinking about such a code for years, drawing on European theory. The War Department’s Law of War Committee met in late 1862—months before Davis’s December 1862 proclamation threatening to treat captured Black Union soldiers as slaves and their white officers as criminals.

This was in essence the first major revision of the 1806 Articles of War.

While not the original motivation, the timing and urgency of the Lieber Code reflect the breakdown of the Dix–Hill Cartel (mid–late 1862) and Davis’s policy. The Union needed a principled basis to suspend the Cartel One of its articles stipulated that the United States government expected all prisoners to be treated equally, regardless of color. By late 1862 it was clear that the Confederacy would not exchange or treat Black Union soldiers as POWs. The cartel was therefore unworkable. The Lincoln administration needed a legal and moral justification for halting exchanges without appearing to commit retaliation for its own sake.

The Lieber Code provided it—explicitly authorizing retaliation when the enemy violates the laws of war; the equal treatment of all lawful combatants regardless of race; the duty of the U.S. government to protect all its soldiers. This was crucial. It offered a codified, internationally resonant legal framework for the Union’s stance. The full document can be found here: https://avalon.law.yale.edu/19th_century/lieber.asp#sec3

Most of its ideas were incorporated into the Hague Convention of 1907, and remain among the fundamental rules of war to this day as an antecedent of the Geneva Conventions.

Franz Lieber was a German-American legal scholar. He had fought with the Prussian Army and been wounded at Waterloo. He later moved and taught for 20 years in South Carolina, where he was repulsed by slavery. In 1861 he became professor of law at Columbia University in NYC. Two of his sons fought for the Union, a third fought for the Confederacy and was killed in action. Halleck, a lawyer with an interest in International Law, consulted Lieber regarding ethical dilemmas early on and invited him, along with Stanton, to undertake this project.

The Lieber Code expressly forbade giving "no quarter" to the enemy (i.e. killing prisoners of war), except in such cases when the survival of the unit that held these prisoners was threatened. It forbade the use of poisons, stating that use of such puts any force who uses them entirely outside the pale of the civilized nations and peoples; it forbade the use of torture to extract confessions or information; it described the rights and duties of prisoners of war and of capturing forces. Most of its ideas were incorporated into the Hague Convention of 1907, and are the fundamental rules of war to this day.

The Lieber Code is formulated as a series of x articles, really just statements of principle. Section III is compised of articles 48 – 80 covers the principles involving prisoners of war. The Code Directly Addresses the Black Soldiers Question. All soldiers fighting under a recognized government are lawful combatants (Arts. 57–60). No distinction may be made on “color, descent, or condition” once they are uniformed combatants. Retaliation is justified if the enemy mistreats prisoners on racial grounds (Arts. 27–29). These provisions were absolutely a response to Davis’s proclamation of December 23, 1862 (declaring Black Union soldiers slaves “invading the South”), and the Confederate Congress’s subsequent approval of that policy. Lieber himself acknowledged this. His correspondence with Halleck in early 1863 shows that the issue of Black POW protection was explicitly in mind as the code was being finalized.

 

What the Lieber Code Said About POWs

Key Principles:

Humane Treatment

Article 56: Prisoners of war are “public enemies” and not criminals. They are to be treated with humanity.

Article 75: Prisoners must not be “subjected to any revenge or other ill treatment.”

 

No Torture or Cruelty

Article 16: “Military necessity does not admit of cruelty…nor of torture to extort confessions.”

 

No Retaliation Against POWs

Article 59: Reprisals must not include harming POWs unless it is a direct retaliation for mistreatment of one’s own POWs—and even then, only under strict necessity.

 

Rights and Respect

Officers were to be treated in accordance with their rank.

Prisoners were protected from violence, pillage, or abuse.

 

Labor

Prisoners could be made to work (Article 76), but only within humane bounds and consistent with their rank.

 

The Lieber Code expressly forbade giving "no quarter" to the enemy (i.e. killing prisoners of war), except in such cases when the survival of the unit that held these prisoners was threatened. Article 60 provides: “It is against the usage of modern war to resolve, in hatred and revenge, to give no quarter. No body of troops has the right to declare that it will not give, and therefore will not expect, quarter; but a commander is permitted to direct his troops to give no quarter, in great straits, when his own salvation makes it impossible to cumber himself with prisoners.

 It forbade the use of poisons (Article 70), stating that use of such puts any force who uses them entirely outside the pale of the civilized nations and peoples; it forbade the use of torture to extract confessions or information; it described the rights and duties of prisoners of war and of capturing forces.

Article 58 directly addresses the use of Black soldiers: “The law of nations knows of no distinction of color, and if an enemy of the United States should enslave and sell any captured persons of their army, it would be a case for the severest retaliation, if not redressed upon complaint. The United States cannot retaliate by enslavement; therefore death must be the retaliation for this crime against the law of nations.”

 

Application to the Prisoner Exchanges

Originally Edwin Stanton wanted to suspend the exchanges because he felt that Southern soldiers weren’t following the rules of the parole. Secretary Stanton saw a potential for Union soldiers to abuse the parole system. The Confederates had begun paroling a number of Western prisoners unilaterally, including some two thousand taken at the April 1862 battle of Shiloh. The violations continued with the parolees from Vicksburg and Port Hudson. It was Lincoln, the astute politician, who realized it would be unpopular to suspend exchanges for that reason, but if applied to the USCT it would be better accepted. The Code was therefore also a strategic countermove. The Union needed a public, intellectually credible, “laws of war” document to show why exchanges were suspended, why retaliation policies were lawful, why Black soldiers had to be protected, and why the Confederacy was violating international norms. The Lieber Code gave the Lincoln administration a fully articulated legal and moral position—something European observers were watching closely.

https://www.nps.gov/ande/learn/historyculture/grant-and-the-prisoner-exchange.htm?fbclid=IwAR0Re2-Imgr8m_qqAYEGK4iAeKRlEA3mafVQpHiqZHtkyRG_ELag97xEE1s&mibextid=kdkkhi

 

The Lieber Code was issued unilaterally by the United States, and no other nation was bound by its formalities at the time. However, when the Confederates breached its principles, the US government needed to respond.

At Fort Wagner, several black prisoners from the 54th Massachusetts were not exchanged with the rest of the white soldiers who participated in the assault on Fort Wagner in July 1863. This is the infamous attack where Colonel Robert Gould Shaw was killed leading his men in a charge. When a Union officer asked the Confederates at Battery Wagner for the return of Shaw's body, he was informed by the Confederate commander, Brigadier General Johnson Hagood, "We buried him with his _____."

On July 30, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln issued General Order 252, which effectively suspended the Dix-Hill Cartel until the Confederate forces agreed to treat black prisoners the same as white prisoners. Large scale prisoner exchanges ceased by August 1863, resulting in a dramatic increase in the prison populations on both sides. Neither side was prepared for this sudden responsibility. The inhumane consequences on both sides are well known.

Large scale prisoner exchanges ceased by August 1863, resulting in a dramatic increase in the prison populations on both sides. Neither side was prepared for this sudden responsibility. The inhumane consequences on both sides are well known.

Other Alleged Examples

The fact is that it was official CSA policy to kill all black POWs. Secretary of War James Seddon responded to PGT Beauregard’s request for the official policy as to how to handle his black POWs. Confederate Secretary of War James A. Seddon, in a November 30, 1862, letter to General P. G. T. Beauregard, outlined a policy of executing captured black soldiers as criminals guilty of breaking slave insurrection laws. You can find this brief letter here: http://historymaking.org/textbook/items/show/97

Fort Pillow occurred on April 12, 1864. The Congressional Investigation into the battle concluded that the massacre was consistent with official CSA policy. The next month, the Confederacy in May 1864 passed a law stating that black U.S. soldiers captured while fighting against the Confederacy would be turned over to the state, where the captured would be tried, according to state laws.

The exchange system had collapsed in late 1863 because of the failure of Confederate prisoners (and their government) to observe paroles, most notably those issued to the surrendered garrison of Vicksburg. When Union soldiers captured some of those unexchanged soldiers at Chattanooga, Stanton decided that something had to be done. Making matters worse, the Confederacy refused to exchange black Union soldiers. Stories that Confederate soldiers murdered black captives carried more impact after Nathan Bedford Forrest's men stormed Fort Pillow on April 12, 1864, and killed black soldiers who were attempting to surrender.

 

Actual Treatment of POWs

The Union treatment of Confederate POWs generally aligned with the Lieber Code, especially early in the war. Large prison camps like Camp Douglas (IL) and Point Lookout (MD) had harsh conditions—exposure, poor sanitation, and disease. Sherman reportedly used POWs to clear land mines outside of Savannah. That wasn’t expressly against the Lieber Code, but it would be forbidden today. As the war progressed and prisoner exchanges collapsed (due in part to Confederate refusal to exchange Black Union soldiers equally), conditions worsened, with overcrowding and high death rates.

 

The Confederate treatment of Union POWs was notably worse, especially at Andersonville (Camp Sumter) in Georgia. It was an outdoor prison built for 10,000; held over 30,000 at peak.

It had minimal shelter, contaminated water, inadequate food. Nearly 13,000 of 45,000 prisoners died—a mortality rate of ~29%. Commandant Henry Wirz was tried and executed after the war for war crimes—one of the few such examples.

 

Did Grant End the Exchanges?

It is often erroneously claimed that General Grant ordered the suspension of Dix-Hill he was not the Commander in Chief at this time, and had nothing to do with it. https://www.nps.gov/ande/learn/historyculture/grant-and-the-prisoner-exchange.htm?fbclid=IwAR0Re2-Imgr8m_qqAYEGK4iAeKRlEA3mafVQpHiqZHtkyRG_ELag97xEE1s&mibextid=kdkkhi

 

It is taught in most history books that the exchange system ended during the Overland Campaign. This quote is usually presented as proof that General Grant ended the system:

"It is hard on our men held in Southern prisons not to exchange them, but it is humanity to those left in the ranks to fight our battles. Every man we hold, when released on parole or otherwise, becomes an active soldier against us at once either directly or indirectly. If we commence a system of exchange which liberates all prisoners taken, we will have to fight on until the whole South is exterminated. If we hold those caught they amount to no more than dead men. At this particular time to release all rebel prisoners North would insure Sherman's defeat and would compromise our safety here." – General Ulysses S. Grant, August 18, 1864.

The myth is that Grant eschewed the exchanges to prevent the Southern armies to regain its captured men, thus favoring the Union side. Supposedly he did it because of the callous arithmetic of the war – calculating that by stopping exchanges the Union armies could simply outlast the Confederates. In fact, President Abraham Lincoln suspended the Dix-Hill Cartel in retaliation for the Confederacy's refusal to exchange black soldiers captured in the summer of 1863.

During the Summer of 1864 Grant pointed out that the refusal to exchange prisoners, however harsh it might seem, drained the Confederacy of much needed manpower; exchanged Confederates would return to the ranks to kill more Yankees, complicating calculations based on the supposed humanity of exchanges. As you can see, Grant wrote this almost 1 year after the exchanges had stopped. It is fascinating that this is the quote that appears on the Wirz monument, trying to shift blame for Andersonville onto Grant.

In the late summer of 1864, a year after the Dix-Hill Cartel was suspended, Confederate officials approached Union General Benjamin Butler about resuming the cartel and exchanges, including black prisoners. Butler, the Union Commissioner of Exchange, contacted Grant for guidance on the issue. Grant responded on August 18, 1864 with this statement. In their conversation, Grant informed Butler that he approved an equal exchange of soldier for soldier, but did not approve a full resumption of the Dix-Hill Cartel. His issue was with the cartel's stipulation that the balance after equal exchanges was to be paroled and sent home to await formal exchange. By August 1864, Confederate prisoners far outnumbered Union prisoners, so a resumption of the cartel would release thousands more Confederates. Grant also felt that once released, Confederate prisoners would likely violate their paroles and rejoin their units. Many of the Union prisoners, on the other hand, had already fulfilled their enlistments and would likely go home.

An agreement for resuming prisoner exchanges would not be reached until the winter of 1864-1865. Had Confederate authorities agreed to exchange black soldiers, however, the exchanges would have been resumed; and in January 1865 Confederate authorities agreed it was best to exchange "all" prisoners, regardless of color. The reality is that Grant did approve a prisoner for prisoner exchange that did in fact occur.

 

The Purpose of Rules of War

Creating rules or laws to govern war, an inherently unethical human behavior, is one of history’s most painful and persistent tensions. The desire for moral restraint versus the brutal realities of war must be balanced; and clearly, winning the war is the foremost goal. Are the “rules” or “laws” of war phony? No, they’re not phony—but they are imperfect and often inconsistently applied.

The laws of war, such as those codified in the Lieber Code (1863), the Hague Conventions (1899, 1907), and the Geneva Conventions (especially after WWII), are real legal instruments. They’re backed by treaties, military doctrine, and in some cases, courts (like the International Criminal Court).

These laws serve several purposes. They limit unnecessary suffering, especially of civilians and prisoners. They maintain some moral legitimacy—for both domestic and international audiences. The rules prevent escalation into unbounded barbarism (e.g., genocide, torture as routine policy). And, they set standards for holding individuals accountable (think of the Nuremberg Trials or modern war crimes prosecutions).

But while they also protect the combatant, a major purpose is to the military and political leaders who order destruction and death. By following an international code of rules, war trials and criminal prosecution have a built in defense.

In conclusion, The Lieber Code was not conceived as a response to the collapse of the Dix–Hill Cartel or to Davis’s policy on Black soldiers, but those events decisively shaped its final content, its timing of issuance, and its strategic purpose. It not only gave an ethical response to the problem, but a politically savvy public stance.

 

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The American Civil War was one of the defining conflicts fought in American history. Not only did it threaten to divide the nation, but it also challenged the very foundation of American institutions. It would go on to define the morals by which future generations would judge the United States of America. Between 1861 and 1865, the Union and Confederate states engaged in crucial battles that would determine the outcome of the Civil War. From the First Battle of Bull Run (1861) to the Battle of Antietam (1862) and the Battle of Gettysburg (1863), each would have its place in American history for shaping the Civil War's military, political, and moral course.

Caleb Brown explains.

Battle of Antietam by Thure de Thulstrup.

First Battle of Bull Run

On the morning of July 21, 1861, Union forces led by General McDowell would meet with Confederate troops led by Generals Johnston and Beauregard for what would be the first battle of the Civil War, the First Battle of Bull Run.[1] The Union, having high hopes for a quick victory, would see its hopes fade as Union soldiers, lacking proper military training, became weary and began to retreat.[2] Hoping to see a crushing win, many civilians who had come to spectate the battle were also caught up in the confusion as they, along with the Union soldiers, retreated toward Washington.[3] The Confederate victory at the First Battle of Bull Run would shatter the hopes for a short war and boost the morale of the South. As a result of the Northern defeat, General George B. McClellan would rise to command and would write in a letter to his wife, "I am here in a terrible place, the enemy have from 3 to 4 times my force the President is an idiot, the old General in his dotage they cannot or will not see the true state of affairs. Most of my troops are demoralized by the defeat at Bull Run, and some regiments are even mutinous. I have probably stopped that, but you see my position is not pleasant."[4] As a result of Bull Run, the Union now had to concede that the war would not be quick, and more preparation was needed.

 

Battle of Antietam

On September 17, 1862, America would lay witness to what would be the single bloodiest battle in American history. By day's end, 22,717 Northern and Southern troops would be dead, wounded, or missing as a result of the Battle of Antietam, which was fought in the Union territory of Maryland.[5] The Battle of Antietam would be a result of General Robert E. Lee's plan to invade the North for the first time in the war. Lee, however, would fall victim to the “Lost Dispatch,” which was a copy of Lee’s military plans that would fall into the hands of Union soldiers. The resulting battle would lead to the bloodiest single day in American history, a tactical draw between the North and the South; however, Lee would retreat, handing the Union a strategic victory. The battle would effectively stop the Confederates’ momentum in the eastern theater of the war and give President Abraham Lincoln the victory he needed to announce his plans for the Emancipation Proclamation. The Confederates would also lose the much-needed foreign recognition from Britain and France.[6] So, although the battle may have been a tactical draw, the South would suffer a significant defeat that it would not be able to overcome.

 

Battle of Gettysburg

The most famous battle of the American Civil War, at least in popular culture today, is the Battle of Gettysburg, which took place in Adams County, Pennsylvania, in July 1863, with Lee's army facing General George G. Meade.[7] The Battle of Gettysburg would be a turning point in the Civil War, and between July 1 and July 3, 50,000 casualties would lie dead, wounded, or missing as a result.[8] General Lee would continue north into Union territory in hopes of a victory that would force an end to the conflict. The battle would unfold over three fierce days of fighting, taking place on geographical terrain known as Little Round Top, Culp’s Hill, and the Cornfield. General George E. Pickett would lead what would become known to history as “Pickett’s Charge,” resulting in a failed attack and a 60% casualty rate for the Confederates.[9] This would be the final push for Lee at the Battle of Gettysburg. Facing staggering losses, Lee would retreat to Virginia, and the hopes of a Confederate States of America along with him. 

 

Conclusion

In conclusion, every battle fought throughout the Civil War has its place in history and contributed to shaping the war's outcome in one way or another. The First Battle of Bull Run would serve as a wake-up call for the North, and as a result of the defeat, the Union would make changes to its army going forward. Many more troops would be requested, and training would improve. The Battle of Antietam would provide a political victory rather than a military victory for the Union. As a result of the bloodiest day in American history, President Lincoln would have cause to reveal his plans for the Emancipation Proclamation. Finally, the Battle of Gettysburg, although not the final battle of the Civil War, would see Lee’s army of Northern Virginia suffer a massive defeat on the fields of Gettysburg, effectively dashing the hopes of a successful invasion of Northern territory. Seeing every battle for its military, political, and moral implications helps provide a broader picture of the American Civil War.

 

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Bibliography

The Battle of Antietam, May 28, 2019. https://www.proquest.com/docview/2230470087?pq-origsite=summon&accountid=12085&sourcetype=Newspapers.

“First Bull Run." American Heritage.” First bull run, 2011. https://go.gale.com/ps/i.do?p=BIC&u=vic_liberty&id=GALE%7CA271594560&v=2.1&it=r&sid=summon&aty=shibboleth.

“Gettysburg.” American Battlefield Trust. Accessed November 13, 2025. https://www.battlefields.org/learn/civil-war/battles/gettysburg.

Woodworth, Steven E. This great struggle: America’s Civil War. Lanham, Md: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2012.


[1] Steven E. Woodworth, This Great Struggle: America’s Civil War (Lanham, Md: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2012), 47.

[2] Ibid. 49.

[3] Ibid.

[4] “First Bull Run, American Heritage,” 2011, https://go.gale.com/ps/i.do?p=BIC&u=vic_liberty&id=GALE%7CA271594560&v=2.1&it=r&sid=summon&aty=shibboleth.

[5] “The Battle of Antietam,” May 28, 2019, https://www.proquest.com/docview/2230470087?pq-origsite=summon&accountid=12085&sourcetype=Newspapers.

[6] Ibid.

[7] “Gettysburg,” American Battlefield Trust, accessed November 13, 2025, https://www.battlefields.org/learn/civil-war/battles/gettysburg.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid.

Josephine Butler was a British 19th century social reformer and feminist activist who was certainly ahead of her time. Here. Nancy Bernhard explains the impact that Josephine had across several social areas.

Josephine Butler, circa 1876.

In researching the 19th century New York sex trade for my historical novel The Double Standard Sporting House, I encountered two varieties of religious reformers who addressed the so-called “Social Evil.” In the aftermath of the Civil War, conservative and evangelical Christians turned their attention to “fallen” women, and tried to persuade them to repent, and to resist sexual temptation. These efforts hardly ever succeeded, because the reformers misunderstood the reasons why women did sex work. In a time when they were excluded from virtually all well-paid employment, it was a last-resort means of survival. It was also the only choice open to victims of rape and sexual assault, shamed and excluded for the behavior of their predators.

But not all reformers were so eager to blame the victims, and directed their redemptive efforts at the customers, procurers, and pimps of sex workers. Rather than shaming girls, this kind of activist offered them job training, housing, and work that paid a living wage as avenues out of the trade. These practical and compassionate reformers changed many women’s lives. In the US, the Female Moral Reform Society, originally constituted in the 1830s and revived in the late 1860s, even tried to criminalize the hiring of a prostitute in New York State. Given that the Tammany Hall political syndicate controlled New York’s politics top to bottom, that proposed legislation did not get very far. But these progressive reformers began to shift moral blame for the Social Evil off powerless girls and onto their exploiters.

 

Daring to Stoop

Perhaps the most inspiring and clear-eyed anti-prostitution reformer of the Victorian era came from the far north of England. A beautiful Englishwoman of good family and education, wife of a university don, Josephine Butler had always been a charitable Christian. But after the accidental death of one of her four children and her only daughter, she became an extraordinary activist. Resolving to help people whose pain was greater than her own, she sat with prisoners in the workhouse, and brought dozens of prostitutes, often dying from venereal disease, into her own home. She campaigned for women’s suffrage and against child trafficking, tirelessly mobilizing her faith and gentility on behalf of Britain’s most neglected and abused women. Clergyman and reformer Charles Kingsley said in 1853 that the in the cause of fallen women, “What is required is one real lady who would dare to stoop.” Butler soon became that lady. Florence Nightingale thought her “touched with genius.”

Understanding sex work to stem from evil economic conditions and the absurd subjugation of women, Butler wrote, “The prostitute sees herself as the only realist in a world deluded by moral hypocrisy.” She built a series of Industrial Homes where girls could learn trades that would support them. She campaigned for better work and educational opportunities for women, but also for better treatment in the workplace, as girls were often assaulted by their employers and then barred from employment. She also organized against couverture, the policy that saw women’s rights revert to their husbands upon marriage.

 

The Contagious Diseases Acts

Butler gained national fame when she fought the Contagious Diseases Acts, passed in stages by Parliament during the 1860s, allowing police to detain and physically examine any woman in the vicinity of a military installation. Many poor women were subject to internal examinations by fiat. Butler called this ‘steel rape.’ No men were ever harassed or even questioned for frequenting sex workers, as the law was designed to protect them but not women from disease. For pointing this out, Butler was often threatened, and she was badly beaten more than once. A building where she was speaking was set on fire.

While Butler persuaded many people of the one-sided injustice of the Contagious Diseases Acts during her years-long campaign, the Conservative government failed to repeal them. One observer quipped, “Hell knows no fury like the scorn of a man who has been humiliated in debate by a sexually attractive woman.” In one year, Butler gave 99 speeches. A Member of Parliament remarked: “We know how to manage any other opposition in the House or in the country, but this is very awkward for us—this revolt of the women. It is quite a new thing; what are we to do with such an opposition as this?” The Acts were not repealed until 1886.

 

Against Child Trafficking

In the 1880s, Butler also began a long and contentious campaign against child trafficking. She joined forces with crusading journalist William T. Stead and members of the Salvation Army to draw attention to the abduction and sale of English children to European brothels specializing in pedophilia, and to pass a law stalled in the House of Commons raising the age of consent from thirteen to sixteen.

Butler and Stead’s “Special and Secret Committee of Inquiry” made a plan to purchase children themselves, to show how easily it could be done. For ten days in London, Butler and her eldest son posed as a brothel keeper and a procurer, and bought time with children in elite brothels, paying a total of one hundred pounds for ten different girls. They passed their information to Scotland Yard, and arrests ensued.

Stead, through Butler protégé Rebecca Jarrett, contracted to buy the virginity of Eliza Armstrong, the thirteen year-old daughter of a destitute sex worker. The girl was instead removed from her precarious life and adopted by a Salvation Army-affiliated family in France. Stead published an eye-popping five-installment account of his purchase in the Pall Mall Gazette under the title “The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon,” hearkening to the Minotaur’s sacrifice of virgins. The series became a wild sensation, provoking intense public debate and widespread demonstrations, news sellers storming the paper’s offices for more copies. Parliament rushed to raise the age of consent.

But despite outspoken support from religious leaders, Stead and several of his co-conspirators were indicted for the abduction and procurement of Eliza Armstrong. Her mother now claimed she thought she was sending her daughter into domestic service, and her father had not been consulted. Rival newspapers tried to discredit Stead and steal his thunder. He served three months in jail, and Rebecca Jarrett served six. Butler was questioned but not charged. Though messy and sensationalist, the Maiden Tribute brought child trafficking into wide public notice for the first time, and legislation against it began in earnest.

 

God and One Woman

After her husband’s death in 1890, Butler slowly withdrew from public life, and died in 1906 at the age of 78. In 2005, Durham University named a residential college for her.

Perhaps Josephine Butler’s greatest achievement was to lay bare the hypocrisies of Victorian society. Her poise and respectability lent credibility, and her faith lent clarity. She said, “I plead for the rights of the most virtuous and the most vicious equally.”

Over decades she attacked the sexual double standard, writing, “A moral lapse in a woman was spoken of as an immensely worse thing than in a man, there was no comparison to be formed between them. A pure woman, it was reiterated, should be absolutely ignorant of a certain class of evils in the world, albeit those evils bore with murderous cruelty on other women.” She began to shift public perception of a sex worker from a guilty, sinful temptress to a person who was victimized by a morally inexcusable society, and inspired a generation of activists in Europe and North America, including in New York, where some of the characters in my novel try to follow her example.

Her favorite phrase was, “God and one woman make a majority.”

 

Nancy Bernhard’s historical fiction debut, The Double Standard Sporting House, was recently released.

 

References

Helen Mathers, Patron Saint of Prostitutes: Josephine Butler and a Victorian Scandal, The History Press, 2014.

Glen Petrie, A singular Iniquity: The Campaigns of Josephine Butler, The Viking Press, 1971.

Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Conduct: Visions of Gender in Victorian America, Oxford University Press, 1985.

Smedley Darlington Butler stands as one of the most formidable and paradoxical figures in United States military history, a Marine whose career traced the arc of American power abroad from the age of imperial interventions to the disillusionment that followed the First World War. Born on the 30th of July, 1881 in West Chester, Pennsylvania, into a prominent Quaker family, Butler's path to martial life seemed at odds with his upbringing. His father was a U.S. congressman, and the family tradition emphasized public service, but not violence. Yet at the age of sixteen, stirred by the outbreak of the Spanish–American War and driven by a precocious sense of duty and adventure, Butler lied about his age to secure a commission as a second lieutenant in the U.S. Marine Corps. That impulsive decision began a career that would see him repeatedly at the sharp edge of American foreign policy.

Terry Bailey explains.

Smedley Butler early in his earlier years - said to be 1898. From the Smedley Butler Collection (COLL/3124), Marine Corps Archives & Special Collections, available here.

Butler's early service immersed him in the era's so-called "small wars," interventions designed to protect American interests overseas. He fought in China during the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, where multinational forces moved to relieve foreign legations besieged in Beijing. There, Butler was wounded in combat and displayed the aggressive leadership that would become his hallmark. He later returned to China during subsequent interventions, gaining firsthand experience of expeditionary warfare in unstable political environments. These deployments, along with service in the Caribbean and Central America, shaped Butler into a hardened officer who believed that personal example—leading from the front under fire—was the essence of command.

The first of Butler's two Medals of Honor was earned during the U.S. occupation of Veracruz, Mexico, in April 1914. The intervention arose from the chaotic conditions of the Mexican Revolution and a diplomatic crisis triggered by the Tampico Affair, in which U.S. sailors were briefly detained by Mexican federal forces. Determined to prevent a shipment of arms from reaching the regime of Victoriano Huerta, President Woodrow Wilson ordered the seizure of Veracruz. Butler, then a major, found himself in intense urban combat as Marines and sailors advanced street by street against determined resistance. Over two days of fighting, Butler repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire while directing his men, maintaining momentum amid confusion and danger. His conspicuous bravery, calm leadership, and disregard for his own safety were credited with helping to secure key objectives during the assault. For this conduct, he received the Medal of Honor, recognizing his extraordinary heroism in a complex and politically sensitive operation.

Butler's second Medal of Honor came the following year during the U.S. intervention in Haiti, another campaign rooted in American concerns over political instability and foreign influence in the Caribbean. In November 1915, Butler led an attack on Fort Rivière, a stronghold held by Caco insurgents resisting the occupation. The fort, an old French structure perched atop a steep hill, was considered nearly impregnable. Rather than ordering a prolonged bombardment, Butler personally led a small assault force up the hill under fire. Discovering a narrow entrance, he and his men forced their way inside and engaged the defenders at close quarters. The sudden, aggressive attack collapsed the resistance within minutes. Butler's decision to lead the assault himself, coupled with his audacity and tactical judgement, was deemed decisive. Awarded a second Medal of Honor, he joined a very small group of Americans to have received the nation's highest military decoration twice.

During the years that followed, Butler's career continued to reflect the expanding global reach of the United States. He served on the Mexican border during the 1916 crisis sparked by Pancho Villa's raids, helping to secure frontier regions amid fears of wider conflict. When the United States entered the First World War, Butler was promoted to brigadier general and assigned logistical and training responsibilities rather than frontline combat. Most notably, he commanded the Marine base at Brest in France, where he worked to impose order and efficiency on a massive, chaotic port operation essential to sustaining the American Expeditionary Forces. Though frustrated by bureaucracy and the lack of combat command, his energy and organizational drive earned him respect and further advancement.

After retiring from the Marine Corps in 1931 as a major general, Butler underwent a profound transformation. Drawing on his decades of experience in foreign interventions, he became an outspoken critic of American militarism and corporate influence over foreign policy. His 1935 pamphlet War Is a Racket argued that many of the campaigns he had fought in served economic interests rather than national defense, a striking repudiation from one of the most decorated Marines in history. Butler spent his final years lecturing and writing, admired by some for his candor and criticized by others for his blunt attacks on the establishment. He died in 1940, leaving behind a legacy defined by extraordinary personal courage, relentless leadership in battle, and a rare willingness to question the very system he had served so ferociously.

Smedley Butler's life captures the contradictions of his age: a fearless warrior of America's overseas expansion who later became one of its sharpest internal critics. His two Medals of Honor testify to moments of undeniable heroism under fire, while his later words invite reflection on the costs and purposes of the wars that shaped him. Few American military figures embody both the triumph and the unease of U.S. power abroad as fully as Smedley Darlington Butler.

Smedley Darlington Butler's story ultimately resists any simple verdict, and it is precisely this complexity that secures his enduring significance. As a young Marine officer, he personified the aggressive confidence of a rising power, repeatedly placing himself in harm's way and earning the devotion of the men he led through sheer physical courage and uncompromising example. His two Medals of Honor were not products of chance or symbolism, but of a consistent pattern of behavior: decisive action, personal risk, and an unshakeable belief that a commander's duty was to share the dangers of those he commanded. In this sense, Butler stands comfortably among the most formidable combat leaders in American military history.

Yet it is the second act of his life that elevates him beyond the narrow confines of martial achievement. Butler's post-retirement denunciation of the very interventions that had defined his career did not erase his service; rather, it reframed it. Few figures have possessed both the authority and the moral courage to interrogate their own legacy so publicly. When Butler condemned war as a racket, he did so not as an outsider or a theorist, but as a man who had fought, bled, and commanded in the field. His critique drew its power from lived experience, forcing contemporaries—and later generations—to confront uncomfortable questions about the relationship between military force, national interest, and economic power.

In the end, Butler's legacy lies not only in the battles he fought or the decorations he earned, but in the intellectual honesty with which he confronted the meaning of those experiences. He remains a symbol of both the heights of personal bravery and the capacity for reflection and dissent within the military tradition itself. In embodying the courage to fight and the courage to question, Smedley Darlington Butler occupies a rare and uneasy place in American history—one that continues to challenge how heroism, patriotism, and power are understood.

 

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Notes:

Tampico Affair

The Tampico Affair was a brief but consequential diplomatic incident between the United States and Mexico in April 1914, occurring during the height of the Mexican Revolution. At the time, Mexico was deeply unstable following the overthrow and assassination of President Francisco Madero in 1913, an event that brought General Victoriano Huerta to power. The United States, under President Woodrow Wilson, refused to recognize Huerta's government, viewing it as illegitimate and born of treachery. This tense political backdrop meant that even minor incidents carried the potential for serious international repercussions.

The affair itself began on the 9th of April, 1914, when a small group of U.S. Navy sailors from the gunboat USS Dolphin went ashore at the Mexican port of Tampico to purchase fuel. They were arrested by Mexican federal troops, who suspected them of entering a restricted military area. Although the sailors were quickly released once their identity was established, the local Mexican commander failed to offer a formal apology. Rear Admiral Henry T. Mayo, commanding U.S. naval forces in the area, demanded not only an apology but also a 21-gun salute to the American flag as a public gesture of respect.

Huerta's government agreed to issue an apology but refused to authorize the salute, arguing that it would compromise Mexican sovereignty and imply submission to the United States. President Wilson seized upon the refusal as evidence of Huerta's hostility and disrespect, and he used the incident to seek congressional approval to employ armed force. The Tampico Affair thus became less about the arrest itself and more a symbolic confrontation over national honor, legitimacy, and diplomatic recognition.

The immediate consequence of the affair was the U.S. occupation of the port of Veracruz later in April 1914, aimed at preventing a German arms shipment from reaching Huerta's forces. While the occupation was not a direct response to the Tampico incident alone, the affair provided the political justification Wilson needed to escalate U.S. involvement. In the broader context of U.S.–Mexican relations, the Tampico Affair exemplified how revolutionary instability, wounded national pride, and great-power diplomacy could rapidly turn a minor local misunderstanding into an international crisis.

Who does not enjoy a good spy story? The Civil War, though fought on American soil, was also waged in drawing rooms, chancelleries, and counting houses across Europe. In that shadow war, few figures were more important—or more obscure—than Henry Shelton Sanford.

Lloyd W Klein explains.

Henry Shelton Sanford.

Sanford was not the kind of man one would cast as a master spy. He did not resemble the polished, worldly intelligence officer of fiction. That was precisely why he was effective. Born in Connecticut to a prosperous family whose wealth came from manufacturing brass tacks, Sanford grew up comfortably connected. One of his ancestors had served as governor of the state. He attended Trinity College and studied in Germany, though he never graduated from either. What he lacked in formal credentials he made up for in money, mobility, and social access.

At just twenty-four, Sanford entered diplomacy, appointed secretary to the American legation in St. Petersburg in 1847. A year later he moved to Frankfurt, and in 1849 to Paris, where he remained for five years, eventually rising to chargé d’affaires. In 1861 Abraham Lincoln named him minister to Belgium. His official portfolio included trade agreements, naturalization treaties, and consular arrangements such as the Scheldt Treaties of 1863, which governed customs duties and navigation rights on one of Europe’s most important commercial waterways. But Sanford’s formal responsibilities were the least important part of his job. His real assignment was counterespionage.

What made Sanford valuable was not diplomacy but deniability. He was wealthy enough not to require a salary, socially connected enough to travel freely without raising suspicion, and unburdened by the technical minutiae that tied other diplomats to their desks. Like many ministers of the era, he was assumed to be a gentleman abroad—sightseeing, attending receptions, and occasionally reporting home. That assumption was his camouflage

In reality, Sanford was one of the principal architects of the Union’s covert war in Europe. Secretary of State William H. Seward entrusted him with authority far exceeding his nominal rank. Sanford was permitted to travel freely across the Continent and into Britain. He was given access to a secret fund of roughly one million dollars—a staggering sum at the time—to finance intelligence gathering, influence, and interference. His mission was straightforward to describe and extraordinarily difficult to execute: prevent the Confederacy from acquiring ships, weapons, credit, and diplomatic recognition.

Jefferson Davis and his government understood that they could not prevail in a prolonged war without foreign assistance. The American Revolution provided the model: French intervention had transformed rebellion into victory. Confederate leaders hoped Britain or France might play a similar role in 1862. Short of recognition, they needed rifles, cannon, powder, ships, and financing—resources Europe could supply in abundance if the Union blockade could be breached.

Seward and Charles Francis Adams, the American minister in London, formed the official diplomatic front. Sanford was tasked with the unacknowledged work behind it. From Brussels, Paris, and London, he assembled a private intelligence service. In Britain, he employed a police detective who ran operatives in major ports and industrial centers. Shipyards, foundries, arms manufacturers, insurers, and brokers were watched closely for signs of Confederate activity.

Identifying Confederate agents was rarely difficult. They were Americans from the seceded states, often with unmistakable accents and known loyalties. Some were serving Confederate officers; others were businessmen acting as intermediaries. The challenge was not knowing who they were, but discovering what they were doing.

In a world without telephones or secure communications, conspiracies traveled on paper and wire. Letters moved through the post. Contracts were telegraphed. Shipping instructions passed between offices and ports. Sanford targeted all of it.

 

How Sanford Operated

Sanford’s agents bribed postal workers to copy or intercept Confederate correspondence. Telegraph clerks were paid to divert or decode messages. Clerks inside factories and shipyards were induced to hand over specifications, contracts, and delivery schedules. Couriers carried intelligence between Belgium, France, and Britain. At times, Sanford simply “borrowed” Confederate letters long enough to read them before returning them to circulation.

Through business contacts, he tracked cotton shipments, arms purchases, and financial transactions. When necessary, he quietly pressured European firms not to deal with the South. The aim was not dramatic disruption but steady suffocation.

Two Confederate operatives were of particular importance: Caleb Huse and James D. Bulloch. Huse, a West Point–trained officer and former chemistry instructor, served as the Confederacy’s principal arms buyer. Operating across Britain, Austria, Prussia, and beyond, he negotiated most of the weapons contracts that eventually supplied Southern armies. Bulloch oversaw naval procurement, including the construction of commerce raiders in British shipyards. One of them—the Alabama—would devastate U.S. merchant shipping before being sunk off Cherbourg.

Sanford tracked both men closely. He fed intelligence to Adams in London, worked to delay or derail their transactions, and ensured that Washington knew when ships were likely to sail. When formal channels failed, less formal methods were sometimes employed. As Sanford joked to Seward in one letter, “accidents are numerous in the [English] Channel, you know.”

 

Influence and the Press

Recognition of the Confederate government before 1863 was a central Southern objective. Envoys James Mason and John Slidell were dispatched to Britain and France, though their capture during the Trent Affair nearly triggered war. While Queen Victoria was personally hostile to a slaveholding republic, British politics were complicated. Liverpool merchants depended on Southern cotton. William Gladstone spoke sympathetically of Southern independence. French policy remained opportunistic.

Seward responded with another weapon: influence. His instrument was Thurlow Weed, a veteran political operative, newspaper man, and longtime ally. Weed held no diplomatic title—by design. He could move through London and Paris as a private citizen, cultivating editors, financiers, and politicians while quietly countering Confederate propaganda.

Weed arrived in Europe in late 1861. He subsidized friendly journalists, planted pro-Union stories, hosted salons and dinners, and gathered intelligence—especially regarding Confederate shipbuilding. Like Sanford, he carried funds and used them where persuasion alone was insufficient. If questioned, Seward could plausibly deny everything. Weed was merely a tourist. Sanford was merely a minister in Brussels. Adams remained the sole visible face of American diplomacy.

Sanford’s influence operations extended far beyond Britain. By 1862 his network reached Belgium, France, Spain, Italy, and the German states. Journalists and editors were quietly supported to produce Union-friendly coverage. Articles prepared in Washington circulated abroad as “news.” When Confederate agents planted stories of their own, Sanford’s operatives countered them with rebuttals, leaks, or alternative narratives.

Clergy were targeted as well. American ministers appealed to European priests and pastors, urging them not to grant moral legitimacy to a slaveholding republic. In Britain, Sanford’s agents worked through labor organizations, emphasizing free labor and the degradation of chattel slavery. Antislavery demonstrations were sometimes organized to appear spontaneous. On this terrain, the Confederacy was especially vulnerable.

 

None of this resembled conventional diplomacy. By any reasonable standard, Sanford violated the norms of neutrality. Had Belgium chosen to protest, it would have been within its rights to demand his recall.

 

How Secret Was It?

Weed’s presence in Europe was unofficial; he did not hold a diplomatic title. If questioned, Seward could assert that Weed was merely a private citizen traveling abroad. However, in truth, Weed operated with the backing of the State Department, private funds, and political directives, rendering him a covert envoy in all but name. His role was designed to be deniable, which was the intention: Adams could maintain a legitimate front as the 'official' representative of U.S. diplomacy, while Weed undertook the clandestine tasks of influence and propaganda.

Thurlow Weed.

Other Covert Operations

Sanford’s network extended far beyond Britain. By 1862 it reached into Belgium, France, Spain, Italy, and the German states. Intelligence gathering was only one part of the enterprise. The more ambitious—and more dangerous—arm of his campaign was an organized effort to shape European public opinion.

Sanford poured money into the press. Journalists and editors were quietly subsidized to produce stories favorable to the Union. At one point he even attempted to purchase a Belgian newspaper outright. Articles prepared in Washington were circulated abroad as “news.” When Confederate agents planted stories of their own, Sanford’s people countered them with rebuttals, leaks, or alternative narratives.

Clergy were targeted as well. American ministers were sent to Europe to appeal to priests and pastors, urging them not to lend moral legitimacy to a slaveholding republic. In Britain, Sanford’s agents worked through labor organizations, emphasizing the dignity of free labor and the degradation of chattel slavery. Antislavery demonstrations were sometimes organized to appear spontaneous. On this ground the Confederacy was especially vulnerable: however much cotton mattered, slavery repelled too many Europeans for Southern diplomacy to overcome.

None of this resembled conventional diplomacy. When France had attempted similar manipulation of American politics during the 1790s, it had triggered the Genet Affair and nearly wrecked relations between Paris and Washington. By any reasonable standard, Sanford was violating the norms of neutrality and the limits placed on foreign ministers. Had Belgium chosen to protest, it would have been within its rights to demand his recall.

As the Union’s military position deteriorated after the failed Peninsula Campaign, Seward feared that Britain and France might push for mediation—an outcome that would have legitimized Confederate independence. Thurlow Weed was therefore sent back across the Atlantic. His mission was to stiffen Adams’s hand by quietly lobbying elites, feeding sympathetic journalists, and using money and charm to blunt Southern influence. Weed reported that European opinion was deeply divided, and that Confederate agents were tireless in their efforts. That only confirmed the necessity of the counteroffensive Sanford was running.

 

What did President Lincoln Know About All of This?

Sanford was not a rogue operator. He worked with the knowledge of Adams and under the direction of Seward. The remaining question is how far that knowledge extended.

A letter from Sanford to Seward, dated July 4, 1861, provides an unambiguous answer. It survives in the Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress.

From Henry S. Sanford to William H. Seward, July 4, 1861, Abraham Lincoln papers, Library of Congress, http://www.loc.gov/resource/mal.1064500.

“I hope you will act on the suggestion contained in the accompanying letter to get Congress to provide you a larger Secret Service Fund.

I am determined, if it is possible, to get at the operations of these [Confederate] “commissioners” through their own papers, and the man specially occupied with that knows his business. How it will be done whether through a pretty mistress or an intelligent servant or a spying landlord is nobody’s business; but I lay great stress on getting you full official accounts of their operations here!

It will be expensive. Your £600 will not last long if this is continued for a considerable period, but I count on your increasing it as wanted.

I intend on putting an agent or two on my own account on their fellow in Paris. The official agents don’t do all I ask them to and the Chef de Police1 has promised me one of their retired agents in the political department who shall be in relations with the office but not accountable to them for what I set him at.

If you do not approve my way of proceeding tell me so frankly. I go on the doctrine that in war as in love, everything is fair that will lead to success!.”

 

This was not ambiguous. Sanford was telling the Secretary of State that he intended to use bribery, infiltration, mail theft, and sexual entrapment to penetrate Confederate operations—and that it would be expensive.

Sanford was explicitly proposing bribery, infiltration, mail theft, and sexual entrapment—and requesting additional funds to do so. Seward did not object.

Through foreign nationals, Sanford intercepted correspondence, diverted contracts, identified shipbuilders, and occasionally sabotaged vessels. These acts were illegal under local law. Sanford enjoyed diplomatic immunity; his agents did not. Corruption was intrinsic to the system.

“Sexpionage,” as later generations would call it, was hardly novel. The Civil War had its own female operatives—Rose Greenhow, Belle Boyd, Ginnie Moon—who used intimacy to extract secrets. Sanford’s casual reference to “a pretty mistress” shows he understood the same tools were available to him.

 

Implications

There is substantial evidence indicating that the United States Government engaged in covert counterespionage through a network involving bribery, as well as mail and wire fraud, utilizing foreign operatives during the Civil War. Secretary of State William H. Seward, likely with the knowledge of President Lincoln, oversaw an intelligence and covert operation in Europe. His operations were conducted through individuals such as Thurlow Weed, Charles Francis Adams, and Henry Shelton Sanford, who served as the U.S. minister to Belgium. Sanford, in particular, was responsible for managing secret surveillance, courier networks, and propaganda efforts aimed at undermining Confederate diplomacy and arms procurement in Europe. 21st Century readers are likely not particularly surprised to learn this.

Had Sanford’s network been exposed, the diplomatic consequences could have been severe. Britain and France maintained official neutrality; revelations of U.S. interference with correspondence, commerce, or the press could have triggered expulsions or demands for recall. Belgium, whose neutrality required delicate balance, might have objected strongly to its territory being used for clandestine operations.

Yet the Confederacy was engaged in its own covert diplomacy and arms procurement. Had Sanford’s actions been revealed, Washington would have argued—credibly—that it was countering Southern subversion. The risk was real, but the calculation proved correct.

If European governments were to uncover U.S. interference with private or diplomatic correspondence, it would be regarded as a significant violation of sovereignty. This could have led to the expulsion of U.S. diplomats (or at the very least, Sanford himself).

Both Britain and France maintained official neutrality. Following the Trent Affair, U.S. diplomacy was cast into doubt. Should Sanford’s bribery, espionage against Confederate agents, and the use of press propaganda have been exposed, London and Paris might have charged the U.S. with breaching their neutrality. This could have jeopardized Adams’ meticulous diplomacy in London, potentially increasing the likelihood of recognizing the Confederacy. Sanford’s host nation might have objected to the use of its territory for clandestine operations.

The damage to the Union’s moral standing could have been catastrophic for global opinion. The Lincoln administration framed the war as a moral battle against slavery and insurrection. If it were revealed that the U.S. was conducting covert influence operations—such as planting articles in newspapers, financing agents, or surveilling Confederate sympathizers—it could have undermined that moral assertion, portraying the Union as Machiavellian rather than principled. There would have been a significant risk to U.S. agents and sympathizers operating overseas. If Sanford’s informants and intermediaries were to be exposed, they could have faced arrest or expulsion. This situation would have severely hindered the U.S. capacity to monitor Confederate arms acquisitions and blockade runners.

Consequently, the immediate repercussions would have included diplomatic embarrassment and a potential loss of influence in Europe. Should the Confederates’ situation have improved, it is uncertain whether Britain’s political stance might have shifted. They were undertaking a considerable risk, and it ultimately proved beneficial.

Following the war, Union leaders minimized or overlooked Sanford’s covert involvement. The official narrative highlighted Lincoln’s moral clarity and Adams’ diplomatic resolve, rather than the obscure tactics that underpinned them. Thus, the justification was both practical at the time and discreetly suppressed afterward to maintain the Union’s image as a principled power.

 

Conclusion

Henry Shelton Sanford never commanded an army and never signed a famous treaty. His war was fought in post offices, telegraph rooms, shipyards, and newspaper offices. Through bribery, surveillance, and influence, he helped deny the Confederacy the foreign support it desperately needed. Had his activities been exposed, they might have damaged the Union’s standing abroad. That they remained secret helped preserve it.

 

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References

Primary and secondary on Henry Shelton Sanford’s covert operations, Seward’s diplomacy, and Union intelligence in Europe:

Primary Sources

  • Sanford, Henry Shelton. Papers of Henry Shelton Sanford, 1841–1891. Library of Congress Manuscript Division.
    – Contains his dispatches from Brussels, including reports on Confederate activities and his covert countermeasures.

  • U.S. Department of State. Papers Relating to Foreign Affairs (Annual volumes, esp. 1861–1865).
    – Includes Sanford’s and Adams’ correspondence with Seward; you can see how carefully they worded reports to obscure covert activities.

  • Charles Francis Adams. The Memoirs of Charles Francis Adams, 1835–1917.
    – Adams reflects on his role in Britain and occasionally mentions the behind-the-scenes pressures, though cautiously.

Secondary Works

  • Jones, Howard. Blue and Gray Diplomacy: A History of Union and Confederate Foreign Relations. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010.
    – Excellent overview of both Union and Confederate diplomacy; details Sanford’s activities in Belgium and the broader intelligence struggle.

  • Merrill, Walter M. Seward and the Balance of Power. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1967.
    – Classic study of Seward’s statecraft, including his reliance on shadow diplomacy and intelligence gathering.

  • Thomas, Benjamin P. & Hyman, Harold M. Stanton: The Life and Times of Lincoln’s Secretary of War. New York: Knopf, 1962.
    – While focused on Stanton, it provides context on the Union’s broader intelligence operations, including coordination with diplomats like Sanford.

  • Hubbell, John T. “The Northern Response to Confederate Diplomacy: The Sanford Missions.” Civil War History 13, no. 3 (1967): 201–218.
    – A focused scholarly article on Sanford’s specific covert operations in Belgium.

  • Ferris, Norman B. Desperate Diplomacy: William H. Seward’s Foreign Policy, 1861. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1976.
    – Analyzes Seward’s readiness to bend norms and how he used covert measures to protect the Union from recognition crises.

  • Elliott, Mark R. Color-Blind Justice: Albion Tourgée and the Quest for Racial Equality from the Civil War to Plessy v. Ferguson. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.
    – Though focused on Tourgée, it briefly discusses Union propaganda abroad and its tension with the Union’s moral message.

  • Klein, Lloyd W. George Alfred Trenholm. https://www.historyisnowmagazine.com/blog/tag/George+Alfred+Trenholm

 

References for Weed’s Missions

·       Glyndon Van Deusen, Thurlow Weed: Wizard of the Lobby (1947) — detailed account of his European missions.

·       Howard Jones, Blue and Gray Diplomacy (2010) — situates Weed’s role in the broader Union diplomatic and covert strategy.

·       Norman B. Ferris, Desperate Diplomacy: William H. Seward’s Foreign Policy, 1861 (1976) — covers Weed’s involvement during the Trent Affair.

·       U.S. State Department, Papers Relating to Foreign Affairs (1861–62) — includes indirect references to Weed’s activities, though sanitized.

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AuthorGeorge Levrier-Jones