CONGRESS AND CABINET.
The proposition that, shown who writes the ballads of a country, one
may tell who makes its laws, is far from reversible in many instances;
and assuredly the lawmakers of the Confederacy looked little like
poets.
When the councils of a country are assembled for work, it is but natural
to look for a body of grave and reverend--if not most potent--seigniors.
And especially, when a new government is forming from selected
fragments of the old, might one expect a pure and simple structure,
free from those faults and weaknesses which sowed the seeds of
disintegration in the elder fabric.
It was too much the fashion to believe that the Confederacy--having
sprung full-grown from foam of the angry sea of politics--was
full-armed as well. A revolution, unprecedented in the world's history,
had already been achieved. A strongly cemented and firmly seated
government had been disrupted; and a new one, built from the dissevered
fragments, had been erected almost under the shadow of its Capitol. And
no drop of blood had been spilled! Six millions of people had uprisen
and, by a simple declaration of will, had in a few short weeks undone
the work of near a century. Without arms in their hands; without a keel
in their waters; without a dollar in their treasury, they arrayed
themselves against the mother government with the serious purpose of
not only asserting, but maintaining, their independence of it.
So far, all had been accomplished without violence. But, whatever the
simpler masses might expect, the initiated politician could scarce have
believed that the older government would meekly submit to "Let the
erring sisters go in peace." Hence, one might justly have looked to see
the executive council of the new nation--to whom had been intrusted its
safety and its hopes--with every thought bent, every nerve strained to
the one vital point--preparation! One could only have expected measures
simple as energetic; laws clear, concise and comprehensive; care only
for the arming, organizing and maintenance of the people.
Blessed are they who expect nothing! One glance at the "Congress of the
Confederate States of America," as it sat in the Capitol at Montgomery,
told the whole story of its organization and of its future usefulness.
The states went out of the union, separately and at different periods,
by the action of conventions. These were naturally composed of men who
had long been prominently before the people, urging the measures of
secession. As a matter of course, the old political workers of each
section, by fair means and foul, were enabled to secure election to
these conventions; and, once there, they so fevered and worked upon the
public mind, amid rapidly succeeding events, that its after-thought
could neither be reasonable nor deliberate. The act of secession once
consummated, the state connected itself with the Confederacy and
representatives had to be sent to Montgomery. Small wonder that the men
most prominent in the secession conventions should secure their own
election, as little regard to fitness as ability being had by the
excited electors.
The House of Representatives at Montgomery looked like the Washington
Congress, viewed through a reversed opera-glass. The same want of
dignity and serious work; the same position of ease, with feet on desk
and hat on head; the same buzzing talk on indifferent subjects; often
the very same men in the lobbies--taking dry smokes from unlit cigars;
all these elements were there in duplicate, if somewhat smaller and
more concentrated. No point in Montgomery was remote enough--no
assemblage dignified enough--to escape the swoop of the lobby vulture.
His beak was as sharp and his unclean talons as strong as those of the
traditional bird, which had blinked and battened so long on the eaves
of the Washington edifice. When "the old concern" had been dismembered,
limbs had been dragged whole to aid in the construction of the new
giant; and scenting these from afar, he hastened hither fierce for his
fresh banquet.
Glancing down from the gallery of the House, many were the familiar
faces peering over the desks; and, even where one did not know the
individual, it was easy to recognize the politician by trade among the
rosy and uncomfortable novices. It was constant food for wonderment to
thoughtful men, that the South had, in most cases, chosen party hacks
to legislate for and to lead her in this great crisis, rather than
transfused younger blood and steadier nerves into her councils; rather
than grafted new minds upon the as yet healthy body. The revolution was
popularly accepted as the result of corruptions and aggressions which
these very men had been utterly helpless to correct, or to prevent;
even had they not been able actors in them. Yet, worn-out
politicians--who had years before been "promoted from servants to
sovereigns and had taken back seats"--floated high upon the present
surge. Men hot from Washington, reeking with the wiles of the old House
and with their unblushing buncombe fresh upon them, took the lead in
every movement; and the rank old Washington leaven threatened to
permeate every pore of the new government.
It is small wonder that the measures of such a congress, when not
vacillating, were weak. If the time demanded anything, that demand was
the promptest organization of an army, with an immediate basis of
foreign credit, to arm, equip and clothe it. Next to this was the
urgent need for a simple and readily managed machinery in the different
departments of the government.
Neither of these desiderata could be secured by their few earnest and
capable advocates, who thrust them forward over and over again, only to
be pushed aside by the sensation element with which the popular will of
the new nation--or the want of it--had diluted her councils. There were
windy dissertations on the color of the flag, or on the establishment
of a patent office; and members made long speeches, bearing on no
special point, but that most special one of their own re-election.
There were bitter denunciations of "the old wreck;" violent diatribes
on the "gridiron" flag; with many an eloquent and manly declaration of
the feelings and the attitude of the South. But these were not the
bitter need. Declarations sufficient had already been made; and the
masses--having made them, and being ready and willing to maintain
them--stood with their hands in their pockets, open-mouthed, eager, but
inactive. They were waiting for some organization, for some
systematized preparation for the struggle even they felt to be surely
coming. Not one in three of the congressmen dared look the real issue
directly in the face; and these were powerless to accomplish anything
practical. But their constant pressure finally forced from the
reluctant legislature a few first steps toward reduction of the chaos.
The Government was to consist, after the President, of a vice-President
and a secretary for each of the departments of State, War, Navy,
Treasury, Post-Office and Justice; the latter being a combination of
the responsibilities of the Interior Department and the
Attorney-General's office.
Alexander H. Stephens, of Georgia, had been elevated to the
vice-Presidency, as reconciling the oppositions of "original secession"
and "anti secession." He had long been a prominent politician; was
thoroughly acquainted with all the points of public life; and was, at
this time, quite popular with people of all sections, being generally
regarded as a man of exceptional capacity and great independence.
The portfolio of State was in the hands of another Georgian, Robert
Toombs. In the present posture of affairs, little could be expected
from it, as until the nations of Europe should recognize the South, she
could have no foreign policy. The honorable secretary himself seemed
fully to realize how little onerous was his position. One of the ten
thousand applicants for any and every position approached him for a
place in his department and exhibited his letters of recommendation.
"Perfectly useless, sir!" responded Mr. Toombs with a thunderous oath.
Let us whisper that the honorable secretary was a profound swearer.
"But, sir," persisted the place hunter, "if you will only look at this
letter from Mr. ----, I think you can find something for me."
"Can you get in here, sir?" roared the secretary fiercely, taking off
his hat and pointing into it--with a volley of sonorous oaths--"That's
the Department of State, sir!"
The Post-Office and Department of Justice were, as yet, about as useful
as the State Department; but to the War Office, every eye was turned,
and the popular verdict seemed to be that the choice there was not the
right man in the right place. Mr. Leroy Pope Walker, to whom its
administration was intrusted, was scarcely known beyond the borders of
his own state; but those who did know him prophesied that he would
early stagger under the heavy responsibility that would necessarily
fall upon him in event of war. Many averred that he was only a man of
straw to whom Mr. Davis had offered the portfolio, simply that he might
exercise his own well-known love for military affairs and be himself
the _de facto_ Secretary of War.
The selection of Mr. Mallory, of Florida, for the Navy Department, was
more popular and was, as yet, generally considered a good one. His long
experience as chairman of the committee on naval affairs, in the United
States Senate, and his reputation for clearness of reasoning and
firmness of purpose, made him acceptable to the majority of politicians
and people. Of Mr. Reagan the people knew little; but their fate was
not in his hands, and just now they were content to wait for their
letters.
The Treasury Department was justly supposed to be the key to national
success. It was at least the twin, in importance, with the War Office.
Mr. Memminger, of South Carolina, was a self-made man, who had managed
the finances of his state and had made reputation for some financiering
ability and much common sense. He had, moreover, the advantage of being
a new man; and the critics were willing to give him the benefit of
common law, until he should prove himself guilty. Still the finance of
the country was so vital, and came home so nearly to every man in it,
that perhaps a deeper anxiety was felt about its management than that
of any other branch.
The Attorney-General, or chief of the Department of Justice, had a
reputation as wide as the continent--and as far as mental ability and
legal knowledge went, there could be no question among the growlers as
to his perfect qualifications for the position. Mr. Judah P. Benjamin
was not only the successful politician, who had risen from obscurity to
become the leader of his party in the Senate, and its exponent of the
constitutional questions involved in its action; but he was, also, the
first lawyer at the bar of the Supreme Court and was known as a ripe
and cultivated scholar. So the people who shook their heads at him--and
they were neither few nor far between--did it on other grounds than
that of incapacity.
This was the popular view of that day at the new Capital. The country
at large had but little means of knowing the real stuff of which the
Cabinet was made. It is true, four of the six were old and thoroughly
broken party horses, who had for years cantered around the Washington
arena, till the scent of its sawdust was dear to their nostrils. But
the people knew little of them individually and took their tone from
the politicians of the past. So--as it is a known fact that politicians
are never satisfied--the Cabinet and Congress, as tried in the hotel
alembic, were not found pure gold.
So the country grumbled. The newspapers snarled, criticised and
asserted, with some show of truth, that things were at a dead
standstill, and that nothing practical had been accomplished.
Such was the aspect of affairs at Montgomery, when on the 10th of
April, Governor Pickens, of South Carolina, telegraphed that the
Government at Washington had notified him of its intention to supply
Fort Sumter--"Peaceably if we can; forcibly if we must."
Bulletins were posted before the Exchange, the newspaper office and the
"Government House;" and for two days there was intense suspense as to
what course the South would pursue. Then the news flashed over the
wires that, on the morning of the 12th of April, Beauregard had opened
the ball in earnest, by commencing the bombardment of Fort Sumter. This
caused the excitement to go up to fever heat; and the echo of that
first gun made every heart in the breadth of the land bound with
quickened throb. Business was suspended, all the stores in the town
were closed, while crowds at the hotels and in the streets became
larger and more anxious as the day wore on. Various and strange were
the speculations as to the issue of the fight and its consequences; but
the conviction came, like a thunder clap upon the most skeptical, that
there was to be war after all!