THE SUNDERED BANNER
From Ghosts and Haunts of the Civil War
by Christopher K. Coleman
The raising
of a new flag over the White House has always been an important ceremony, the
flag being a symbol of the nation as a whole. In times of war, it takes on
added significance.
During the
spring of 1861, the war of words between North and South had rapidly escalated
into a shooting war. Fort Sumter had fallen to the Rebels at the end of April,
and in May first blood had been shed-that of the dashing Colonel Ellsworth of
the Zouaves - in a raid on Alexandria, Virginia.
In sympathy
with South Carolina, other Southern states were also declaring their
independence-nine all told-and beginning to form a confederation. If prospects
were fading for a peaceful resolution to the conflict, Lincoln's administration
was still hopeful that the rebellion could be quelled with only minimal loss of
life and the Union preserved intact. It is against this background, that the
incident of June 29, 1861, must be viewed.
A dazzling
array of officials were gathered that day on the south portico of the White
House. Clusters of generals and their aides, members of the cabinet, and a
gaggle of gossiping females, resplendent in hoopskirts and blossoming bonnets,
were all gathered to watch the tall, spare form of the President raise the new
flag over the nations capitol. The moment came for the flag to be raised, and
the marine band began to play the national anthem. Everyone stood, the officers
saluting, the civilians taking off their hats. But when the president pulled on
the cord, it stuck.
Lincoln
pulled harder on the rope, but still the flag refused to budge.
One does not
split rails for a living without developing some power in one's arms, and old
Abe finally gave the line a good strong tug. Suddenly, the upper corner of the
flag tore off and hung down in front of him. An audible gasp of horror and
surprise arose from those gathered around the president. This sinister omen
needed no interpretation.
For a
moment, everyone was stunned. Then, with great presence of mind, a young staff
officer quickstepped over to the ladies, held out his hands, and hissed,
"Pins! Pins!" His pleas did not go unheeded. Mrs. Lincoln and the
other women contributed several small barbs, taking them from various hiding
places on their persons.
In short
order, the Union officer pinned the wayward constellation of stars back
together with those stars of the Union blue that had not separated from the
flag, and the sundered banner was made whole again. The president raised the
flag without further incident.
Down below,
the crowd on the lawn, gathered to watch the ceremony, was unaware of the brief
but frantic scene around the flagpole. The band had continued to play, and the
public was only aware of a slight delay in the ceremony. To the senior
administration officials who witnessed the event, however, it was a rather
serious matter. Judge Taft, in charge of the Patent Office at the time, warned
his teenage daughter not to breathe a word of what she had witnessed. "It
will be suppressed," he declared. And so it was. For many years, this
supposedly minor incident remained a dark secret, hidden from the world, and
known but to a few.
One observer
of the flag-raising, a reporter for a local paper, was ignorant of the malign
omen, yet even from a distance he noticed that a strange look came over
Lincoln's face. He described the president as having "abstract and serious
eyes which seemed withdrawn into an inner sanctuary." General Banks, also
present, was likewise "much disturbed."
Was it mere
chance, a random accident with no further meaning? At this distance in time,
the cynic might easily argue that point. Today, for example, the order of the
stars in the Union field of the flag represents their order of admission to the
Union. From that perspective, the sundering of the nine would have had no
significance. But this ordering of the stars is of modern origin; prior to
1912, there was no such rule. Moreover, the men who witnessed the incident were
by no means a superstitious lot. They were hard-headed politicians and pragmatic
military men.
Yet, all
there immediately saw the symbolism inherent in the random accident. Lincoln,
attempting to raise the flag on high, had inadvertently torn the Union apart;
and now it was only re-joined through direct military intervention.
For some
seventy years word of the incident was indeed suppressed, and all the men and
women who witnessed it, save one, took the secret with them to their graves.
Coincidence
or uncanny omen? It all depends on your point of view.
