The Life of Jefferson Davis

Under the new light given to mankind, as to the origin, nature, and purposes of the American Union, which Mr. Davis so lucidly explained, Europe soon recognized his position as something else than that of a ruler of an insurgent district. But not only as the chosen Executive of eleven separate communities, several of which European governments had previously recognized as sovereign; as one who had organized great armies, maintained them in the field, and selected leaders for their command already illustrious in the annals of war; not for these and other features of enduring fame, alone, was Jefferson Davis admired in Europe. The contrast between the civil administrations of the hostile sections was viewed as, perhaps, the chiefly remarkable phase of the struggle.

President Lincoln, beginning the war with usurpation, had committed, in its progress, every possible trespass upon the Federal Constitution, and was now under the influence of a faction whose every aim contemplated the overthrow of that instrument. President Davis, supported by a confiding people, and an overwhelming majority of every Southern community, ruled in strict conformity with the laws of the land and its Constitution. In the midst of a revolution, unexampled in magnitude, in fierceness, and vindictiveness on the part of the enemy, and of difficulties in his own administration, he furnished an example of courage, humanity, and magnanimity, together with the observance of order, civil freedom, and legal and constitutional restraints unexampled in history. In the Confederacy, the Roman maxim, Inter arma silent leges, universally recognized and practiced among nations, had an emphatic repudiation, so far as concerned the exercise of power by the executive department. Whatever may have been the exceptional cases of unauthorized oppression or violence, there was always redress in the judiciary department of the Government, which continued in pure and dignified existence until the end.

The President, obeying the dictates of exalted patriotism – acting always for the public good, if not always with unimpeachable wisdom, at least with incorruptible integrity – made no attempt at improper interference with Congress, nor sought to exercise undue influence over its deliberations. The press, usually the first bulwark of the public liberties to attract the exercise of despotism, so trammeled at the North, was free in the South every-where; in some instances, to the extent of licentiousness, and to the positive injury of the cause.

In marked contrast with these exhibitions were the evidences of coming despotism at the North. The Federal judiciary was rapidly declining from its exalted purity, before the exactions of military power; the Federal Congress was charged by the press with open and notorious corruption, and was aiding Mr. Lincoln in usurpations which startled the despotisms of Europe, and have since led to the annihilation of the republican character of the Government.

Conspicuous, too, was the desire of Mr. Davis to conduct the war upon a civilized and Christian basis. His forbearance, his moderation, and stern refusal to resort to retaliation, under circumstances such as would have justified its exercise in response to the cruelties and outrages of the enemy, amazed the European spectator, and at times dissatisfied his own countrymen. “Retaliation is not justice,” was his habitual reply to urgent demands, and again and again did he decline to “shed one drop of blood except on the field of battle.” Never forgetting the dignity of the contest, he, up to the last moment of his authority, redeemed the pledge which he had made in the first weeks of the war: “to smite the smiter with manly arms, as did our fathers before us.”

There have been few spectacles presented to the admiring gaze of mankind, more worthily depicted than that union of capacities and virtues in Jefferson Davis, which so eminently qualified him, in the opinion of foreigners, for the position he held. An English writer has eloquently sketched him as “one of the world’s foremost men, admired as a statesman, respected as an earnest Christian, the Washington of another generation of the same race. A resolute statesman, calm, dignified, swaying with commanding intellect the able men that surrounded him; eloquent as a speaker, and as a writer giving state papers to the world which are among the finest compositions in our time; of warm domestic affections in his inner life, and strong religious convictions; held up by vigor of the spirit that nerved an exhausted and feeble frame – such was the chosen constitutional ruler of one-fourth of the American people.”

Colonel Freemantle, a distinguished English officer, whose faithful and impartial narrative of his extended observations of the American war, commended him to the esteem of both parties, thus concludes an account of an interview with President Davis, in the spring of 1863:

“During my travels many people have remarked to me that Jefferson Davis seems, in a peculiar manner, adapted to his office. His military education at West Point rendered him intimately acquainted with the higher officers of the army; and his post of Secretary of War, under the old Government, brought officers of all ranks under his immediate personal knowledge and supervision. No man could have formed a more accurate estimate of their respective merits. This is one of the reasons which gave the Confederates such an immense start in the way of generals; for, having formed his opinion with regard to appointing an officer, Mr. Davis is always most determined to carry out his intention in spite of every obstacle. His services in the Mexican war gave him the prestige of a brave man and a good soldier. His services as a statesman pointed him out as the only man who, by his unflinching determination and administrative talent, was able to control the popular will. People speak of any misfortune happening to him as an irreparable evil too dreadful to contemplate.”

Mr. Gladstone, a member of the British cabinet, the eminent leader of a party in English politics, and a sympathizer with the objects of the war as waged by the North, avowed his enthusiastic appreciation of the lustre reflected upon the new Government, by its able administration, in the assertion that “Mr. Jefferson Davis had created a nation.”

But the admiration of Europe was to prove a mere sentiment, unaccompanied by any practical demonstration of sympathy. In view of the course so persistently adhered to by the great powers of Europe, it is curious to note the purely sentimental and personal character of their professed sympathy for the South. The earliest expression of foreign opinion indicated a reluctant recognition of the valor and devotion of a people, from whom they had not expected the exhibition of such qualities. When, by the protraction of the struggle, the brilliant feats of arms executed by the Southern armies, the indomitable resolution of the South, and its evident purpose to encounter every possible sacrifice for sake of independence, there was no longer ground for misapprehension, they still disregarded all the precedents and principles which had governed their course respecting new nationalities.

Applauding the valor of the Southern soldiery, the heroism, endurance, and self-denial of a people whom they repeatedly declared to have already established their invincibility; rapturous in their panegyrics upon the genius, zeal, and Christian virtues of the Confederate leaders; they never interposed their boasted potentiality in behalf of justice, right, and humanity. English writers were eloquent in acknowledgment of the additional distinction conferred upon Anglo-Saxon statesmanship and literature by Davis; diligent in tracing the honorable English lineage of Lee, and establishing the consanguinity of Jackson; but English statesmen persistently disregarded those elevated considerations of humanity and philanthropy, which they have so much vaunted as prompting their intercourse with nations. Confessing a new enlightenment from the expositions of Mr. Davis, and from diligent inquiry into the nature of the Federal Government, Europe soon avowed its convictions in favor of the legal and constitutional right of secession asserted by the South. It declared that it but awaited the exhibition of that earnestness of purpose, and that capacity for resistance, which should establish the “force and consistency” which are the requisite conditions of recognized nationality.

The London Times, while the army of McClellan was still investing Richmond, used language which the North and the South accepted as significant and prophetic. Said the Times:

“It can not be doubted that we are approaching a time when a more important question even than that of an offer of mediation may have to be considered by England and France. The Southern Confederacy has constituted itself a nation for nearly a year and a half. During that time the attachment of the people to the now Government has been indubitably shown; immense armies have been raised; the greatest sacrifices have been endured; the persistence of the South in the war, through a long series of battles – some victories, some defeats – has shown the ‘force and consistency’ which are looked upon as tests of nationality. Wherever the Government is unmolested, the laws are administered regularly as in time of peace; and wherever the Federals have penetrated, they are received with an animosity which they resent, as at New Orleans, by a military rule of intolerable brutality. The vision of a Union party in the South has been dispelled, as the Northerners themselves are compelled, with bitterness and mortification, to admit.

“All these circumstances point but to one conclusion: Either this war must be brought to an end, or the time will at last come when the South may claim its own recognition by foreign nations as an independent power. The precedents of the American colonies, of the Spanish colonies, of Belgium, and of Tuscany, and of Naples the other day, forbid us to question this right when asserted by the Confederate States. It is our duty to anticipate this possible event, and it may be wise, as well as generous, for statesmen on this side of the ocean to approach the American Government in a friendly spirit, with the offer of their good offices, at this great crisis of its fortunes.”

If such a statement of the question was just and truthful, when a numerous and confident army, under a leader of proven skill, was engaged in close siege of the capital of the Confederacy, how much more unanswerable were its conclusions when McClellan was defeated? What were the evidences of “force and consistency” demanded after the combined armies of McClellan and Pope were hurled back upon the Potomac; after Bragg had forced Buell to the Ohio; and when Fredericksburg had crowned six months of success with a victory that inevitably imposed a defensive attitude upon the North during the entire winter?

When Chancellorsville inflicted a defeat, the most decisive and humiliating of the war, upon the North, there was indeed no longer even a pretext, by which could be disguised the evident purpose of England not to interfere in behalf of a cause with which she had no sympathy, whatever her constrained respect for its champions and defenders. The loss of Vicksburg and Gettysburg in the ensuing summer, so productive of distrust in Europe of the Confederate cause, was quickly followed by developments which dispelled nearly all remaining hope of that recognition which it was equally the right of the Confederacy to hope, and the duty of Europe to render.

The attitude of the Confederate Government, in its relations with European governments, was ever one of imposing dignity. President Davis contented himself with calm and statesman-like presentation of the claims of the cause which he represented. His unanswerable exposition of the position of the Confederacy, and lucid discussions of international jurisprudence, never took the semblance of supplication, and were accompanied by dignified remonstrance, even, only when it became evident that the Confederacy was excluded from the benefits of that policy which the laws of nations and every precedent demanded. Hope of foreign assistance unquestionably constituted a large share of that confidence of success which, until the later stages of the war, continued to animate the South. Her people hoped for foreign aid in some shape, because they were confident of their ability to demonstrate their right to it; and they expected it only when they had demonstrated that right. But never was there any abatement or relaxation of effort by the Confederate Government because of this just right and expectation. In the midst of the most cheering events, and when recognition appeared certain, President Davis declared his conviction of the necessity of such effort as should secure independence without aid from any quarter. In his address to the Mississippi Legislature, December, 1862, from which we have already quoted, he said:

“In the course of this war our eyes have been often turned abroad. We have expected sometimes recognition and sometimes intervention at the hands of foreign nations, and we had a right to expect it. Never before, in the history of the world, had a people so long a time maintained their ground, and showed themselves capable of maintaining their national existence, without securing the recognition of commercial nations. I know not why this has been so, but this I say, ‘Put not your trust in princes,’ and rest not your hopes on foreign nations. This war is ours; we must fight it out ourselves; and I feel some pride in knowing that, so far, we have done it without the good-will of any body.”

It seems, indeed, difficult to explain the course of Europe, especially of England and France, in the American war, upon any hypothesis consistent with either courage, humanity, or the usages of nations. Delay, caution, and attendance upon results were becoming in the beginning; but, after the defeat of McClellan upon the Chickahominy, and, still more, at the close of operations in 1862, they were no longer exacted by moral obligation or international comity. Having all the attributes of an independent power – a power at war with a neighbor, assailed by its armies, blockaded by its fleets, as had been numerous other independent powers – there was nothing whatever anomalous in the situation of the Confederate States forbidding the practice of plain justice towards them. Recognition was not only warranted by the facts of the case, but by immemorial usage in Europe, especially by the apposite precedent of the separation of Belgium from Holland. The existence of slavery in the South, even though sanctioned by law and the religious convictions of her people, is an altogether insufficient explanation of a policy which has exposed the European great powers to the suspicion of having been actuated by the most unworthy motives.

Especially does the course of England seem indefensible towards a people, with whom the war developed so much of common instinct, so many appeals of sympathy and evidences of identity with herself – a people whose ancestors were the uncompromising enemies of regicides, and had maintained their loyalty to the crown of England in spite of the power and threats of Cromwell, whose Puritan dominion New England acknowledged.

The injustice of England did not end with her refusal of recognition. In the beginning she promptly proclaimed “strict neutrality,” and her Premier declared the Confederates “belligerents.” This phrase, apparently a just concession of the declared independence of the South, was gratefully acknowledged by a struggling people, and evoked the fierce indignation of the North. It was, however, designedly ambiguous, and to be interpreted, philologically and practically, as the prospects of the controversy or the wishes of the Palmerston cabinet might dictate. The English cabinet did not necessarily mean a recognition of a divided sovereignty, justifying suspension of relations with both sections, until the question of sovereignty should be settled. The phrase “belligerents” was subsequently declared to mean, merely, that the “two sections were at war” – a fact which the participants felt to have already had ocular demonstration. Meanwhile, relations between London and Washington were not interrupted, and commercial intercourse continued as before. But England not only ignored the South, and denied the Confederate commissioners a formal and official audience – her vessels respected the Federal blockade, while Confederate vessels were warned from her coasts. Such is only a limited statement of features which made “English neutrality” the broadest farce and severest irony of the age.58

Early in 1863, or late in 1862, the Emperor Napoleon proposed to England to join France and other powers in a joint mediation, to suggest an armistice and a conference. This humane proposition England refused, declining to take any step which might aid pacification, and thus did both North and South finally comprehend what was meant by the “duty and policy” of that power, which had so industriously propagated American dissensions for her own aggrandizement. An editorial in the Richmond Enquirer, written, probably, by John Mitchel, pithily described the motives of England in the remark: “In short, the North is not yet bankrupt enough, the South not yet desolated enough, to suit the ‘policy’ of England.” France saved her reputation, upon the score of humanity and justice, by evincing at least a right disposition, though it is difficult to reconcile her continued dalliance upon England, respecting the American question, with that bold policy, which usually characterizes the great master of European diplomacy. France had, however, less of interest and of expectation than England, from the dissolution of the Union; less motive for desiring its downfall, and the exhaustion of both combatants.

Such, however, was the policy, adhered to by England and France, in defiance of legal and moral obligation, and to the mortal injury of the South, in her brave and defiant struggle with that power, which history may yet declare, the “great powers” of Europe dared not defy.

An interesting phase of the war, in the beginning of 1863, was the culmination of the policy of the Federal Government respecting the subject of slavery. A brief space will suffice to exhibit a record of violated pledges, of constitutional infractions, and abuse of power by the Federal Government, altogether unexampled in a war to be hereafter noted for its arbitrary measures.

In the early stages of the war the North assumed, as the justification of coercive measures, not only the purpose of preserving the Union, but the relief of a “loyal party” in the South, who were oppressed by a violent minority having “command of the situation.” Of this theory of the war, as waged by the North, the conversation of President Lincoln with a Kentucky member of Congress, in the presence of Senator Crittenden, was sufficiently declaratory:

“‘Mr. Mallory, this war, so far as I have any thing to do with it, is carried on on the idea that there is a Union sentiment in those States, which, set free from the control now held over it by the presence of the Confederate or rebel power, will be sufficient to replace those States in the Union. If I am mistaken in this, if there is no such sentiment there, if the people of those States are determined with unanimity, or with a feeling approaching unanimity, that their States shall not be members of this Confederacy, it is beyond the power of the people of the other States to force them to remain in the Union; and,’ said he, ‘in that contingency – in the contingency that there is not that sentiment there – THIS WAR IS NOT ONLY AN ERROR, IT IS A CRIME.’”

Mr. Lincoln was probably not a very close student of the philosophy of history, or he would hardly have thus emphatically committed himself to a pledge, which, if observed, would have inevitably ended the war in a few weeks. The teachings of history were valueless, without their unvarying testimony to the potency of the sword of the common enemy in healing the divisions of an invaded country. It would be difficult, too, to imagine what he would have deemed that approximation to unity in the South, which would render a further prosecution of the war a crime. A faction of “Union men,” truculent, treacherous, and insidious, in their hostility to the Confederate Government, unquestionably existed in the South during the entire progress of the war, but they were few in numbers, and their recognized leaders were, with hardly a single exception, men of abandoned character, notoriously without influence, save with their ignorant and unpatriotic followers. But this pretense of a Union party in the South, which the North, at first, declared a majority, was conveniently abandoned, when other pretexts were sought. In the face of evidence not to be denied, of the profound and sincere purpose of separation, entertained by more than seven-eighths of the citizens of the seceded States, the Northern conscience easily overcame its scruples as to a war which the Northern President had, by anticipation, pronounced a “Crime.”

Palpable violations of vows were, indeed, marked characteristics of the conduct of the war as justified by the facile and pliant conscience of the North. The paramount purpose of coercion was to maintain the authority and dignity of the Constitution, assailed by “rebels in arms.” No theory was avowed contemplating any other termination of the war, than a simple restoration of the “Union under the Constitution.” The assertions of the Northern press, and the resolutions of mass meetings were re-affirmed by the most solemn enactments of the Federal Congress, and public declarations of Mr. Lincoln, that the North sought merely to save the Union, with the form and spirit of the Constitution unimpaired. In view of subsequent events, it is almost incredible that in Mr. Lincoln’s first inaugural address should be found this passage:

“I declare that I have no purpose, directly or indirectly, to interfere with the institution of slavery in the States where it exists. I believe I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no inclination to do so… The right of each State to order and control its own domestic institutions according to its own judgment exclusively, is essential to the balance of power on which the perfection and endurance of our political fabric depended.”

Then, after the defeat at Bull Run, Congress passed the following resolution, which was signed by Mr. Lincoln as President:

“Resolved, That this war is not waged upon our part with any purpose of overthrowing or interfering with the rights or established institutions of these States, but to defend and maintain the supremacy of the Constitution, and to preserve the Union, with all the dignity, equality, and rights of the several States unimpaired; that, as soon as these objects are accomplished, the war ought to cease.”

As if to give every possible form of assurance of the legitimate and constitutional objects of the war, and leaving no room for doubt in the mind of posterity, of complete and unredeemed perfidy, the Federal authorities were at especial pains to declare their policy to foreign governments.

Mr. Seward, as Mr. Lincoln’s Secretary of State, in his instructions to Mr. Dayton, Minister to France, says:

“The condition of slavery in the several States will remain just the same, whether it (the rebellion) succeed or fail. There is not even a pretext for the complaint that the disaffected States are to be conquered by the United States, if the revolution fail; for the rights of the States, and the condition of every human being in them, will remain subject to exactly the same laws and form of administration, whether the revolution shall succeed or whether it shall fail.”

There was little room to doubt the purpose of the North to emancipate the slaves of the South, if at any period of the war such action could be advantageously taken. Mr. Lincoln always manifested great timidity and reluctance in approaching the subject, and it was observable that, at critical moments of the war, he courted the sympathy of the Democratic party, which was opposed to the policy of emancipation, so importunately urged upon him by the radical wing of the Republican party.

General McClellan had, with noble firmness, refused to countenance the revolutionary designs of the radical faction, and his removal from command after his repulse at Richmond was the palpable and decisive triumph of the emancipation policy in the sympathies of Mr. Lincoln. Restored to command, in order that he might save Washington from capture, no other officer being deemed to have the requisite ability and confidence of the army, he retained his position but a few weeks after that object was accomplished. By successive steps, Mr. Lincoln was finally brought to issue a preliminary proclamation of emancipation, in September, 1862, which went into effect January 1, 1863. After the battle of Antietam, no farther necessity for concealment was deemed necessary, and to the design of subjugation was now added the proclaimed purpose to destroy the organic existence of the States and two thousand millions of Southern capital.