plan, the immediate purchase of arms, ammunition and ships, the
establishment of gun factories and powder mills, and a number of other
subjects, which leave no doubt that he saw the situation in its true
proportions, and was resolved to use the resources of the Confederacy to
meet it. That these resources were meager when compared with those of his
powerful adversary, is beyond question. But neither in point of wealth nor
population were the odds so great against the South as those over which
Napoleon twice triumphed, or those opposed to Frederick the Great in a
contest from which he emerged triumphant; and the conclusion so freely
indulged in of late years that the Confederacy was foredoomed from the
beginning would seem to rest rather upon an accomplished fact than upon
sound reasoning, if in the beginning the resources of the South had been
used to the best advantage. That they were not, was known by every
statesman and general of the Confederacy whose achievements entitle his
opinion to consideration. But it is eminently unfair to seek to saddle all
or the greater part of this failure upon Mr. Davis, as has been attempted,
in some cases, by the delinquents who themselves, contributed largely to
that result. Some of the causes of that failure we have seen. Another, and
perhaps the most potent cause, the writer believes, may be traced to
conditions which have been very generally overlooked.
XV. Conditions in the South
Previous to the Civil War, the large slaveholders constituted as distinct
an aristocracy as ever existed under any monarchy. Educated in Northern
colleges and the universities of Europe, it produced a race of men who in
many respects has never been surpassed by those of any country in the
world. It was small, but it was the governing class of the South, in which
the people, except those in the more northerly section, placed implicit
confidence.
A majority of the latter were not slaveholders nor were they in sympathy
with slavery, and at heart they were unfriendly to the governing class,
its policies and politics--a fact which was responsible for giving to the
Union from the seceded states almost as many soldiers as enlisted for the
Confederacy.
The educated class, of course, understood all sections of the country, but
at this time it is almost impossible to understand how little the rank and
file of the Southern people knew of the North, its resources and, above
all, of the motives that actuated its citizens. In a word, two sections of
a country separated by no natural barrier, speaking the same language and
in the main living under the same laws, were to all intents and purposes
as much foreigners as though a vast ocean had divided them.
Nursed upon the theories of state sovereignty, the Southern people could
not at first understand how a seceding state could be coerced, and when
that delusion was dispelled, their attitude was one of angry contempt.
From colonial days, conditions in the South had been such as to develop
courage, resourcefulness and self-reliance in the individual. The idea of
coercion was to them ridiculous. Numerically inferior as they were,
they felt self-sufficient. So much so, in fact, that they took no trouble
to conciliate that class before referred to which, while out of sympathy
with them on slavery, were held by other ties which at first inclined them
rather to the South than to the North. What mattered it? Let them join the
Yankees, and they would whip both. This same confidence saw in the
approaching conflict a short affair, and among this people, naturally as
warlike as the Romans under the republic, there grew up the widespread
fear that the war would not last long enough for all to take a hand.
Valorous the attitude undoubtedly was, but at the same time the spirit
that gave it birth was fatal to that careful preparation which alone would
have insured a chance for success.
[Illustration: Henry Clay Addressing the Senate on the Missouri
Compromise]
This spirit invaded even the Congress, where strong opposition developed
to long enlistments. In fact, this body seems to have seriously believed
that the volunteers would be sufficient to maintain the struggle, and
while Mr. Davis saw the error and danger involved in both theories, the
most that could be secured was legislation which provided for a twelve
months' enlistment. This, in all truth, was bad enough, but it is doubtful
if it was so pernicious as the methods provided for fixing the rank of
officers by the relative position formerly held by them in the United
States army--a measure which from its inception proved a perfect Pandora's
box of discord and dissension.
XVI. The First Battle
The next step of Congress was unquestionably a fatal blunder. This was the
removal of the capitol from Montgomery to Richmond. From the very nature
of the situation, it was evident that the chief goal of the enemy would be
the capture of the capital and the moral effect of such a result must
prove extremely disastrous, by elating the North, discouraging the South
and impairing confidence abroad.
Left at Montgomery, it would have compelled the enemy to operate from a
distant base of supplies, necessitating his keeping open lines of
communication eight hundred miles long, while it would have liberated to
be used as occasion demanded, a magnificent army which was constantly
required for the defense of Richmond. Located as that place is, within
little more than one hundred miles of the enemy's base, upon a river
which permitted the ascent of formidable war crafts and within a short
distance of a strong fortress on a fine harbor, it was a constant
invitation for aggressions which required all of the energies and most of
the resources of the South to meet and defend.
When in May the president reached Richmond, its defense was already
demanding attention. The states had sent forward troops to the aid of
Virginia and these were divided into three armies. One of these was posted
at Norfolk. Another, under General Joseph E. Johnston, guarded the
approach to the Shenandoah Valley, and the third, under General
Beauregard, covered the direct approach to the capital from near Manassas.
The day the Federal army moved forward to the invasion of the South, Mr.
Davis was advised of the fact by one of his secret agents in Washington,
and he wired Johnston to abandon Harper's Ferry and effect a junction with
Beauregard--an order executed with the celerity and effectiveness which
could not have been surpassed by the seasoned troops of a veteran army.
But a difficulty now arose. Johnston and Beauregard were commanding
separate armies, and in the face of impending battle it was certainly
necessary to know who exercised supreme command.
[Illustration: Edward Ruffin, who Fired the First Gun at Sumter]
Under the law of Congress, it was doubtful if either exercised those
functions, Johnston therefore wired an inquiry and received from Mr. Davis
only the reply that he was general in the Confederate army. However, the
anomalous situation and perhaps another motive, which will be hereafter
noticed, induced the president to hasten forward, so as to be himself
present upon the field of battle. When he reached Johnston's headquarters,
the hard-fought day was closing, the storm of battle was dying away to the
westward and General McDowell's army, routed at every point, was
retreating in wild disorder toward Washington.
XVII. A Lost Opportunity
No man influential in the making of history ever knew less of the art of
divining character than Jefferson Davis. Entirely ingenous himself, he
persisted in attributing that virtue to every one else, utterly failing to
understand the mixed motives that influence all men in most of the affairs
of life. If he perceived one trait of character, real or imaginary, which
appealed to his admiration, it was quite sufficient, and forthwith he
proceeded to attribute to its possessor all of the other qualities which
he wished him to possess. That conclusion once reached, no amount of
evidence could overthrow it or even shake his confidence in its
correctness.
That peculiarity, in some ways admirable in itself, was responsible for
many of his mistakes and misfortunes. The first vital one attributable to
that cause was Mr. Davis' selection of the head of the commissary
department of the Confederate army. Early in his military career, while
stationed at Fort Crawford, a warm friendship had sprung up between
himself and Lieutenant Northrop. About the time he resigned his commission
an accident befell Northrop which compelled him to retire from the army
also. Thereupon he studied medicine and afterward locating in Charleston
became a zealous convert to the Catholic faith and beyond the spheres of
church quarrels and religious polemics, remained an unimportant factor in
his community. Indeed he seems to have been unable to manage his own small
affairs with any degree of success, and many of his neighbors and friends
believed him to be of unsound mind. Mr. Davis had not seen him, and
probably knew little of his life since he left the army, a quarter of a
century before. A superficial inquiry must have demonstrated that Dr.
Northrop was wholly unfitted by education, temperament and experience for
a position which required business training and executive ability of the
first order. However, Mr. Davis, remembering the man as he had supposed
him to be years before, proceeded to appoint him to the most important and
difficult position under the government.
[Illustration: Robert Toombs]
Colonel Northrop, of course, had ideas of his own and he proceeded to
execute them without the slightest regard for the wishes or opinions of
the able and experienced generals who commanded the Confederate armies in
Northern Virginia.
Near Manassas, where Johnston and Beauregard had been ordered to form a
junction, a railroad branched off from the main line and traversed the
famous Shenandoah Valley, then and afterward known as the granary of the
South. To have supplied the armies with provisions by the use of that line
whose rolling stock was then comparatively idle would have been one of the
easiest of military problems; but instead of following that course,
breadstuffs were transported first from the Valley to Richmond and thence
over the sadly overtaxed main line to the army at Manassas. But one result
was possible which, of course, was the almost complete failure of the
commissary department. Most of the Southern troops went hungry into the
battle of Bull Run, and not until ten o'clock at night could meager
rations be procured for the exhausted army. This fact was the real reason
why General Johnston did not pursue the routed army of McDowell. Johnston,
Beauregard and President Davis all concurred in the necessity of following
up the victory, and the latter actually dictated the order to Colonel
Jordan, but as the commissary department had completely gone to pieces,
no forward movement was possible then, or, indeed, for months afterward.
XVIII. The Quarrel with Johnston
A greater calamity than this, which practically nullified the fruits of
the victory, soon occurred in the beginning of that unnecessary and
calamitous quarrel between the President and General Johnston. Much that
is untrue has been written about its origin, but the facts as learned from
the principals themselves, and all the records in the case, refer it to a
single cause which may be stated in few words.
[Illustration: General Joseph E. Johnston]
In March, 1861, the Confederate Congress enacted that the relative rank of
officers should be determined in the new army by that which they held in
that of the United States. General Johnston alone of those who resigned
from the old army held the rank of Brigadier-General and therefore, it
would seem, should have become the senior general in the Confederate
armies. In fact, he was recognized as such by the government until after
the battle of Bull Run.
However, on the Fourth of July the President nominated five generals,
three of whom took precedence over Johnston, thus reducing him from the
first general to that of fourth, and in August Congress confirmed the
nominations as made. Upon learning what had been done, General Johnston
wrote the President, protesting against what he conceived to be a great
injustice. His language was moderate and respectful, and it is impossible
to read his argument without acknowledging its faultless logic. The
President, however, indorsed upon the document the single word
"Insubordinate," and sent to the writer a curt, caustic note, which
without attempting any answer or explanation summarily closed the matter.
That Johnston was deeply wounded admits of no doubt, but he was too
great a soldier and man to allow this snub to influence his devotion and
service, and his attitude toward the President remained throughout the
struggle eminently correct. Mr. Davis however, was never able to
understand those who differed from his views. General Johnston often did
so; wisely as the sequel always proved, but the President invariably
attributed this difference to the wrong cause. The breach was thereby kept
open and with what results we shall see.
[Illustration: Generals Lee, Jackson and Johnston]
The most important result of the victory of Bull Run was the tremendous
enthusiasm that it stirred throughout the South. Volunteers came forward
so rapidly that they could not be armed and the belief became general that
it was to be "a ninety days' war." President Davis, however, nursed no
such delusions. He knew the temper of the great and populous states of the
North, and he fully realized that defeat would teach caution while
arousing stronger determination. He, therefore, sought to impress upon
Congress the necessity of stopping short enlistments and the advisability
of passing general laws which would place the country in position to
sustain a long war. But the times were not propitious for that kind of
advice, and it was lost upon a body whose enthusiasm had temporarily
exceeded its judgment and discretion.
XIX. The Battle of Shiloh
In the fall of 1861 Mr. Davis was elected President of the Confederate
States for a term of six years, and on the 21st of February in the
following year he was inaugurated. This message may hardly be called a
state paper, as it was devoted rather to a recapitulation of the events of
the war than to discussion of measures or the recommendation of policies.
The tone of the message was hopeful, for notwithstanding the fall of Forts
Donelson and Henry, and the evacuation of Bowling Green, the fortunes of
war were decidedly with the South.
However, in those catastrophes, which Mr. Davis passed lightly over, the
ablest generals in the Southern army saw the first results of the fatal
policy of attempting with limited resources to defend every threatened
point of a vast irregular frontier reaching from the Rio Grande to the
Potomac. The three hundred thousand men in the Confederate army at that
time could have captured Washington or localized the whole Federal army in
its defense, but scattered over an area of more than fifteen hundred
miles, strength was dissipated and at every point they were too weak to
attempt more than a defensive policy. Upon this point, however, Mr. Davis
was inflexible, and absolutely refused to abandon any place however
insignificant from a strategic point of view, even when the soldiers
holding it might have been used most effectively elsewhere.
The Federal government soon perceived that this was to be the fixed policy
of the Confederate President and proceeded to make the most of it.
McClellan's preparation for a blow at Richmond diverted attention from
the West where General Albert Sidney Johnston was left without hope of
succor to deal with the armies of Grant and Buell. That great soldier,
however, was equal to any emergency and prepared to strike before Grant
and Buell could effect a junction. Fatally hampered as he was by the
Commissary General's lack of foresight or preparation and with a staff too
small and inexperienced to render the required services, he forced General
Grant into the battle of Shiloh. More brilliant generalship was never
shown upon any field than was that day displayed by the great Texan, who
drove the Federal army back upon the river in the wildest confusion and
disorder. At two o'clock the battle was won. A half hour later Johnston
was dead--a victim of the foolish practice of the Southern generals of
remaining on the firing line. The command devolved upon Beauregard who,
instead of completing the victory, stopped the battle while more than two
hours of daylight remained. He thereby lost all that had been gained and
insured his own defeat, for during the night, Buell's corps crossed the
river and easily routed his army on the following day.
What motives actuated Beauregard in this matter can only be conjectured.
His amazing conduct was never even plausibly explained by himself. It was
certainly not treachery, for his patriotism was unbounded. It was not
incompetency, for tried by the usual standards, he was not lacking as a
general.
He at that time was not on good terms with the President, and then and
ever he was vain and covetous of honors and fame. Had he completed the
victory, the administration, the world, history would have credited it to
Johnston. Had he succeeded in winning it on the following day, it would
have been his own. From all that can be learned some such reason must have
influenced him in halting a victorious army in the moment of its
triumph.
[Illustration: C. G. Memminger]
When the news of the fatal affair at Shiloh reached Davis, his rage knew
no bounds, but instead of relieving Beauregard of his command and bringing
him promptly before a court martial, as Frederick or Napoleon would have
done, he allowed him to remain at the head of the Western army without
even administering a reprimand. In fact, not until Beauregard had left the
army on sick leave about a month later did the President express any
disapprobation. Then he declared that nothing would ever induce him to
restore the offender to any command. But in most cases Mr. Davis' anger
was short lived, and while we must admire that gentleness which
undoubtedly was responsible for his never punishing any offender, it was
nevertheless a weakness in the South's Chief Executive from which it was
destined to suffer greater ills than flowed from the oblivion which soon
shrouded the offenses of this particular general.
XX. The Seven Days of Battle
The gloom cast over the South by the reverses of the West by no means
discouraged President Davis, and taking the field in person he aided and
directed his generals in preparing for the defense of Richmond against the
impending attack of McClellan.
The seven days' battle before Richmond are particularly interesting to the
military critic by reason no less of the valor displayed upon both sides
than for the masterly strategy used by the two great antagonists.
General Johnston, who had been severely criticised by the President,
remained long enough on the field of Seven Pines to demonstrate the
soundness of his plans by winning a great victory before he was stricken
down and borne unconscious to the rear. General Lee succeeded Johnston,
and being reinforced by the indomitable Stonewall Jackson, whose soldiers
were inspired by a series of recent magnificent victories in the Valley of
Virginia, drove McClellan back so rapidly through a strange and difficult
country that the wonder is he did not lose his entire army.
For this feat, which must be regarded as one of the most brilliant pieces
of maneuvering in history, General McClellan was held up to execration and
even his patriotism was questioned. In fact, the belief is still general
that he lost the opportunity to capture Richmond, when as a matter of fact
he could not have done so with an army of twice the size he commanded, as
must be evident to any one who will remember that it took Grant, with an
army of 200,000 men, more than a year to accomplish that result when
confronted not by 100,000 of the best troops the world ever saw led by a
dozen generals, either one of whom Napoleon would have delighted to have
made a marshal, but by less than 40,000 worn, starved and ragged veterans
whose great commanders with one or two exceptions, had fallen in battle.
President Davis was not an ungenerous enemy and at the time, as well as
frequently in later life, expressed warm admiration for the soldierly
qualities that enabled McClellan to extricate himself from a situation
which must have proved fatal to a less able commander.
XXI. Butler's Infamous Order 28
This series of victories in some measure offset the blow the South
sustained in the fall of New Orleans, and immediately thereafter the
President attempted to deal with the situation in that quarter in a way
which will serve to throw a strong side light upon another phase of his
character. General Butler had hanged a semi-idiotic boy by the name of
Munford for hauling down the flag from the mint. The act was one of
impolicy, if not of wanton barbarity, and it aroused a storm of
indignation throughout the South. This was, in a few days, followed by the
infamous "Order No. 28," which in retaliation for snubs received at the
hands of the women of New Orleans, licensed the soldiers, upon repetition
of the offense, "to greet them as women of the town plying their
avocation."
President Davis at once issued a proclamation declaring Butler an outlaw,
and placing a price upon his head and commanding that no commissioned
officer of the United States should be exchanged until the culprit should
meet with due punishment. The officers in Butler's army were also declared
to be felons, their exchange was prohibited and they were ordered to be
treated as common criminals.
As to the justice of the proclamation so far as it related to Butler
himself few North or South at this day who have read "Order No. 28" will
be inclined to question. But to attempt to attain to the officers of a
numerous army with the guilt of a personal act of its commander must, upon
due reflection, have appeared as absurd to the President as it did to the
rest of the country. As a matter of fact the proclamation was never
attempted to be executed although abundant chances were presented, and it
is very probable that had Butler himself fallen into the hands of the
Confederates he would have had nothing worse than imprisonment to fear had
his fate been left to the President.
Mr. Davis, as we all know, issued some very sanguinary proclamations in
his time, but they were altogether sound and fury, "signifying nothing,"
and not one of them was ever enforced. He no doubt hoped that their
terrible aspect would operate as a deterrent and no doubt they did at
first. But gradually their seriousness came to be questioned and then they
became a subject of amusement to both friend and foe. During his most
eventful administration, although hundreds of death warrants of criminals,
who richly deserved the extreme punishment, came before him he never
signed one of them or permitted an execution when he had the slightest
opportunity to interfere.
This, of course, was charged by Pollard and other enemies to his desire
to save himself, in the event the Confederacy should fail, but no motive
could have been further from the correct one than this view of the case.
The truth is that Jefferson Davis was as kindly, tender, gentle and
considerate as a woman, and it was quite impossible for him to assume the
responsibility of inflicting serious punishment or suffering of any kind
upon any of God's creatures, human or otherwise. Had he hanged a few
prisoners upon one or two occasions, it would have been of inestimable
benefit to the South; had he executed one or two deserters in 1864, he
would at once have checked an evil which was threatening the very
existence of the Confederacy, but he did neither, although fully realizing
the impolicy of his course. And whatever we may think of his strength of
character we can but love the man whose humanity triumphed over passions,
prejudice, policy and wisdom and brought him through those awful times
that frightfully developed the savage instinct in the best of men without
the taint of bloodshed upon his conscience.
XXII. Mental Imperfections
History must finally charge all of Mr. Davis' blunders to no moral
defective sense but rather to imperfect mental conceptions augmented and
intensified by a strong infusion of self-confidence and stubbornness which
frequently destroyed the perspective and blinded him to the truth apparent
to other men of far less capacity. Criticism, however well meant, never
enlightened him to his own mistakes.
If he made a bad appointment, he saw in the objection to his protege
ignorance of his merit, jealousy, a disposition to persecute, in fact
anything rather than the possibility that he himself might have made a
mistake.