THE FATAL BLUNDER
On February 22, 1862, Jefferson Davis committed the one irretrievable
mistake of his administration. He consented to his inauguration as
permanent President of the Confederacy under the strict forms of
Constitutional law.
The South was entering the shadows of the darkest hour of her new life.
A military dictator clothed with autocratic power could have subdued the
discordant elements and marshaled the resources of the country to meet
the crisis. A constitutional President would bind himself hand and foot
with legal forms. A military dictator might ride to victory and carry
his country with him.
His two Commanding Generals had allowed the victorious army of Manassas
to drift into a rabble while they wrangled for position, precedence and
power.
The swift and terrible blows which the navy had dealt the South,
delivered so silently and yet with such deadly effect that the people
had not yet realized their import, had convinced the President that the
war would be one of the bloodiest in history.
The fall of Fort Henry and Fort Donelson with the evacuation of
Nashville had been a sword thrust into the heart of the lower South. The
extent of these disasters had not been realized by the public. The South
was yet a sleeping lioness. She could be roused and her powers wielded
with certainty by one man. But his hand must be firm.
There was one man in the Cabinet of the Confederacy who clearly saw this
from the first dawn of the new year--Judah P. Benjamin, the astute
Secretary of War. His keen logical mind had brushed aside the fog of
sentiment and saw _one_ thing--the need of success and the way in which
to attain it.
The morning of February twenty-second was Washington's birthday, and for
that reason fixed by the South as the day of the inauguration of their
President. Nothing could have shown more clearly the tenacity with which
the Southern people were clinging to their old forms. The day slowly
dawned through lowering storm clouds.
The President went early to his office for a consultation with the
members of his new Cabinet. Judah P. Benjamin, his chosen chief
counselor as Secretary of State, was unusually reticent. The details of
the inauguration were quickly agreed on and Davis hastened to return to
his room at the White House to complete his preparations for the
ceremony.
Benjamin followed his Chief thirty minutes later with the most important
communication he had ever decided to make.
As the most trusted adviser of the President he had long had the freedom
of the house.
The resolute Hebrew features of the Secretary were set with resolution.
He pushed his way to the door of Mr. Davis' room, rapped for admission
and without waiting for an answer softly and swiftly entered. His
mission was too important to admit of delay.
He paused at the threshold in surprise.
Jefferson Davis was on his knees in prayer so deep and earnest he had
not heard.
He waited with head bowed in silent sympathy for five minutes and looked
with increasing amazement at the white face of the man who prayed. This
agony of soul before the God of his fathers was a revelation to the
Minister of State.
His lips were moving now in audible words.
"Thou alone art my refuge, O Lord! Without Thee I shall fail. Have pity
on Thy servant--with Thy wisdom guide!"
The time was swiftly passing. The Minister could not wait.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. President," he began in low tones, "but I have
most important communications to make to you--"
The voice of prayer softly died away and slowly the look of earth came
back to the tired face. He turned his hollow cheeks to Benjamin with no
attempt to mask the agony of his spirit, slowly rose and motioned him to
a chair.
The Secretary lifted his hand.
"I'm restless. If you don't mind, I'll stand. I have marked three
editorial attacks on you and your administration in three of the most
powerful newspapers in the South--the Richmond _Examiner_, the Raleigh
_Standard_ and the Charleston _Mercury_--read them please--and then I
have something to say!"
The President seated himself and read each marked sentence with care.
"The same old thing, Benjamin--only a little more virulent this
time--what of it?"
"This! The success of our cause demands the suppression of these reptile
sheets and the imprisonment of their editors--"
"Would success be worth having if we must buy it at the cost of the
liberties of our people?"
Benjamin stopped short in his tracks. He had been walking back and forth
with swift panther-like tread.
"We are at war, Mr. President--fierce, savage, cruel, it's going to be.
You have realized this from the first. The world will demand of us just
one thing--success in arms. With this we win all. Lose this and we lose
all--our liberties and a great deal more. Our coast is pierced now at
regular intervals to the mouth of the Mississippi River--at Fortress
Monroe in Virginia--the entire inland waters of North Carolina, Port
Royal, South Carolina, Florida's line has been broken. Grant's army is
swarming into Tennessee. McClellan is drilling three hundred thousand
men in Washington to descend on Richmond. It's no time to nurse such
reptiles in our bosom--"
"I can't play the petty tyrant--"
"They'll sting you to death--I warn you--no administration on earth can
live in times of war and endure such infamous abuse as these
conspirators are now heaping on your head. And mark you--they have only
begun. The junta of disgruntled generals which they have organized will
strangle the cause of the South unless you grip the situation to-day
with a hand of steel. They are laying their plans in the new Congress to
paralyze your work and heap on your head the scorn of the world."
The President moved with a gesture of impatience.
"I've told you, Benjamin, that I will not suppress these papers nor sign
your order for the arrest of the editors. I am leading the cause of a
great people to preserve Constitutional liberty. Freedom of speech is
one of their rights--"
"In times of peace, yes--but not in the crisis of war when the tongue of
a fool may betray the lives of millions. I am not here merely to ask you
to suppress these three treacherous rags--I'm here to ask a bigger and
far more important thing. I want you to stop this inaugural ceremony
to-day--"
Davis rose with a quick excited movement.
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I say. Stop in time. We inaugurated a Provisional Government
at Montgomery to last one year. Why one year? Because we believed the
war would be over before that year expired. It would have been madness
to provide for the establishment of the elaborate and clumsy forms of a
Constitutional Government during the progress of war. Why set up a
Constitution until you have won by the sword the power to maintain it?"
"But," Davis interrupted, "if we delay the adoption of a Constitution we
confess to the world our want of confidence in the success of our cause.
Such a permanent Constitution will be to our people the supreme sign of
faith--"
"With these jackals and hyenas of the press yelping and snarling and
snapping at your heels? These men will destroy the faith of our best men
and women if you only allow them to repeat their lies often enough. They
will believe them at last, themselves. You have the confidence to-day of
the whole South. Your bitterest enemy could not name a candidate to
oppose your election last November. Give these traitors time and they
will change all--"
"Not with military success--"
"Granted. But if these jackals break down the confidence of the people
in the administration, volunteering ceases and we have no army."
"We must use the Conscription. It is inevitable--"
"Exactly!" the Secretary cried triumphantly. "And Conscription is the
_reductio ad absurdum_ of your dream of Constitutional Law. Why set up a
Constitution at all to-day?"
"Congress must pass a Conscript law when necessity demands it."
"In their own way, yes--with ifs and ands and clauses which defeat its
purpose."
"They must respond to the demands of our people when their patriotism is
aroused."
"Our people have patriotism to spare if we can only guide it in the
right direction. If it goes to seed in the personal quarrels of
generals, if it exhausts itself in abuse of the Executive, while an
overwhelming enemy marches on us--What then?"
The President lifted his head.
"And you recommend?"
"Stop this ceremony. Refuse the position of permanent President and use
your powers as Provisional President in a Military Dictatorship until
the South wins--"
"Never!" was the quick reply. "I'll go down in eternal defeat sooner
than win an empire by such betrayal of the trust imposed in me--"
"You're not betraying the trust imposed in you by assuming these
powers!" Benjamin exclaimed with passion. "You're fulfilling that trust.
You're doing what the people have called you to do--establishing the
independence of the South! The Government at Washington has been
compelled to exercise despotic powers from the first--"
"Exactly--and that's why we can't afford to do it. We are fighting the
battle of the North and the South for Constitutional liberty."
"Even so, if we lose and they win, the cause is lost. Seward is now
imprisoning thousands of Northern men who have dared to sympathize with
us--"
"An act of infamous tyranny!"
"But if he wins--who will dare to criticise the wisdom of his policy
fifty years from to-day? If we lose, who will give us credit for our
high ideals of Civil Law in times of war? You have the chance to-day to
win. Leap into the saddle and command the obedience of every man, woman
and child in the South! Your Congress which assembles to-day is a weak
impossible body of men. They have nothing to do except to make foolish
speeches and hatch conspiracies against your administration. We have
muzzled them behind closed doors. The remedy is worse than the disease.
The rumors they circulate through the reptile press do more harm than
the record of their vapid talk could possibly accomplish. Why tie these
millstones around your neck? They came yesterday to demand the head of
Albert Sidney Johnston. They are organizing to drive Lee out of the
army. They allow no opportunity to pass to sneer at his position as your
chief military adviser since his return from Western Virginia. You know
and I know that Albert Sidney Johnston and R. E. Lee are our greatest
generals--"
"I'll protect them from the chatter of fools--never fear--"
"To what end if you allow them to break down the faith of our people in
their Government? The strong arm, alone, can save us. It's no time to
haggle about the forms of law. Your duty is clear. Stop this foolish
ceremony of Inauguration to-day and assume in due time the
Dictatorship--"
Davis threw both arms up in a gesture of impatient refusal.
"It's a waste of breath, Benjamin. I'll die first!"
The elastic spirit of the younger man recovered its poise at once and
accepted the decision.
With a genial smile he slipped one arm around the tall figure.
"Brave, generous, big-hearted, foolish--my captain! Well, I've done my
duty as your chief counselor. Now I'll obey orders--one thing more I
must add in warning. Richmond swarms with spies. It will be impossible
to defend the Capital on the approach of McClellan's army without a
proclamation of martial law."
The President looked up sharply.
"We'll compromise on that. I'll proclaim martial law and suspend the
_writ_ in Richmond--"
"And a radius of ten miles."
"All right--I'll do that."
It was the utmost concession the wily minister of State could wring from
his Chief. But it was important. The Secretary had his eye on a certain
house on Church Hill. It might be necessary to expel its owners.
"By the way," the President added, as his Secretary stood with his hand
on the door. "I wrote a recommendation to your new department for the
appointment of a young friend of Miss Barton to a position in your
office. He's a man of brilliant talents--a foreigner who has cast his
fortunes with us. Do what you can for him--"
"I'll remember--" the Secretary nodded and hurried to his office to
issue his proclamation of martial law for the city and district of
Richmond.
At ten o'clock the rain began to pour in torrents. The streets were
flooded. Rushing rivers of muddy water roared over its cobble stones and
leaped down its steep hills into the yellow tide of the James.
Every flag drooped and flapped in dismal weeping against its staff. The
decorations of the houses and windows outside were ruined. The bunting
swayed and sagged in deep curves across the streets, pouring a stream of
water from the folds.
At twelve o'clock, the procession formed in the Hall of the Virginia
Legislature and marched through the pouring rain to the platform erected
around the statue of Washington. In spite of the storm an immense crowd
packed the space around the speaker's stand, presenting the curious
spectacle of a sea of umbrellas.
Socola watched this crowd stand patiently in the downpour with a
deepening sense of the tragedy it foreshadowed. The people who could set
their teeth and go through an inauguration ceremony scheduled in the
open air on such a day might be defeated in battle, but the victor would
pay his tribute of blood. He had not dared to ask Jennie to accept his
escort on such a day and yet they drifted to each other's side by some
strange power of attraction.
The scene was weird in its utter depression of all enthusiasm, and yet
the sullen purpose which held the people was sublime in its persistence.
An awning covered the speaker's stand and beneath this friendly cover
the ceremony was performed down to the last detail.
The President rose and faced his audience under the most trying
conditions. Oratory was beyond human effort. He did not attempt it. He
read his frank dignified address in simple, clear, musical tones which
rang with strange effect over the crowd of drenched men and women. Not a
single cheer broke the delivery of his address. He sought in no way to
apologize for the disasters which had befallen his people. He faced them
bravely and summoned his followers to be equally brave.
The close of his address caught the morbid fancy of Socola with peculiar
fascination. Clouds of unusual threatening depths were rolling across
the heavens, against which the canopied platform was sharply outlined.
The thin form of the President rose white and ghost-like against this
black background of clouds. He was extremely pale, his cheeks hollowed
deep, his head bared regardless of the chill mists which beat through
the canopy.
His tall figure stood tense, trembling, deathlike--the emblem of
sacrificial offering on the altar of his country.
Socola whispered to Jennie:
"Where have I witnessed this scene before?"
"Surely not in America--"
"No"--he mused thoughtfully--"I remember now--on a lonely hill outside
Jerusalem the Roman soldiers were crucifying a man on a day like
this--that's where I saw it!"
He had scarcely spoken the uncanny words in a low undertone when the
speaker closed his address with a remarkable prayer.
Suddenly dropping his manuscript on the table he lifted his eyes into
the darkened heavens and cried with deep passion:
"With humble gratitude and adoration, to Thee, O God, I trustingly
commit myself, and prayerfully invoke Thy blessing on my country and its
cause!"