The Life of Jefferson Davis

The family of Mr. Davis had been sent southward some days before, and he was, therefore, under the necessity of little preparation for departure. Though his concern was obvious, his calmness was remarkable. In this trying exigency in his personal fortunes, he showed anxiety only for the fate of the country, and sympathy for that devoted community from which he was now compelled to separate.

On the night of Sunday, April 2d, 1865, Mr. Davis, attended by his personal staff, members of his cabinet, and attaches of the several departments, left Richmond, which then ceased forever to be the capital of the Southern Confederacy. In a few hours after, that city, whose defense will be more famous than that of Saragossa, whose capture was for four years the aspiration of armies aggregating more than a million of men, became the spoil of a conqueror, and the scene of a conflagration, in which “all the hopes of the Southern Confederacy were consumed in one day, as a scroll in the fire.”

In accordance with his original design of making a new defensive line near the Roanoke River, Mr. Davis proceeded directly to Danville. His determination was to maintain the Confederate authority upon the soil of Virginia, until driven from it by force of arms. Reaching Danville on the 3d of April, he issued, two days afterwards, the following proclamation:

“Danville, Va., April 5, 1865.

“The General-in-Chief found it necessary to make such movements of his troops as to uncover the capital. It would be unwise to conceal the moral and material injury to our cause resulting from the occupation of our capital by the enemy. It is equally unwise and unworthy of us to allow our own energies to falter, and our efforts to become relaxed under reverses, however calamitous they may be. For many months the largest and finest army of the Confederacy, under a leader whose presence inspires equal confidence in the troops and the people, has been greatly trammeled by the necessity of keeping constant watch over the approaches to the capital, and has thus been forced to forego more than one opportunity for promising enterprise. It is for us, my countrymen, to show by our bearing under reverses, how wretched has been the self-deception of those who have believed us less able to endure misfortune with fortitude than to encounter danger with courage.

“We have now entered upon a new phase of the struggle. Relieved from the necessity of guarding particular points, our army will be free to move from point to point, to strike the enemy in detail far from his base. Let us but will it, and we are free.

“Animated by that confidence in your spirit and fortitude which never yet failed me, I announce to you, fellow-countrymen, that it is my purpose to maintain your cause with my whole heart and soul; that I will never consent to abandon to the enemy one foot of the soil of any of the States of the Confederacy; that Virginia – noble State – whose ancient renown has been eclipsed by her still more glorious recent history; whose bosom has been bared to receive the main shock of this war; whose sons and daughters have exhibited heroism so sublime as to render her illustrious in all time to come – that Virginia, with the help of the people, and by the blessing of Providence, shall be held and defended, and no peace ever be made with the infamous invaders of her territory.

“If, by the stress of numbers, we should be compelled to a temporary withdrawal from her limits, or those of any other border State, we will return until the baffled and exhausted enemy shall abandon in despair his endless and impossible task of making slaves of a people resolved to be free.

“Let us, then, not despond, my countrymen, but, relying on God, meet the foe with fresh defiance, and with unconquered and unconquerable hearts.

“JEFFERSON DAVIS.”

Meanwhile, some semblance of order in several of the departments of government was established, though, of course, the continued occupation of Danville was dependent upon the safety of Lee’s army. Days of anxious suspense, during which there was no intelligence from Lee, were passed, until on Monday, the 10th of April, it was announced that the Army of Northern Virginia had surrendered.

Leaving Danville, Mr. Davis and his party went by railroad to Greensboro’, North Carolina. Here Mr. Davis met Generals Johnston and Beauregard. Consultation with these two officers soon revealed to Mr. Davis their convictions of the hopelessness of a farther protraction of the struggle.

Ex-Secretary Mallory gives the following narrative of the last official interview of President Davis with Generals Johnston and Beauregard:

“At 8 o’clock that evening the cabinet, with the exception of Mr. Trenholm, whose illness prevented his attendance, joined the President at his room. It was a small apartment, some twelve by sixteen feet, containing a bed, a few chairs, and a table, with writing materials, on the second floor of the small dwelling of Mrs. John Taylor Wood; and a few minutes after eight the two generals entered.

“The uniform habit of President Davis, in cabinet meetings, was to consume some little time in general conversation before entering upon the business of the occasion, not unfrequently introducing some anecdote or interesting episode, generally some reminiscence of the early life of himself or others in the army, the Mexican war, or his Washington experiences; and his manner of relating and his application of them were at all times very happy and pleasing.

“Few men seized more readily upon the sprightly aspects of any transaction, or turned them to better account; and his powers of mimicry, whenever he condescended to exercise them, were irresistible. Upon this occasion, at a time when the cause of the Confederacy was hopeless, when its soldiers were throwing away their arms and flying to their homes, when its Government, stripped of nearly all power, could not hope to exist beyond a few days more, and when the enemy, more powerful and exultant than ever, was advancing upon all sides, true to his habit, he introduced several subjects of conversation, not connected with the condition of the country, and discussed them as if at some pleasant ordinary meeting. After a brief time thus spent, turning to General Johnston, he said, in his usual quiet, grave way, when entering upon matters of business: ‘I have requested you and General Beauregard, General Johnston, to join us this evening, that we might have the benefit of your views upon the situation of the country. Of course, we all feel the magnitude of the moment. Our late disasters are terrible, but I do not think we should regard them as fatal. I think we can whip the enemy yet, if our people will turn out. We must look at matters calmly, however, and see what is left for us to do. Whatever can be done must be done at once. We have not a day to lose.’ A pause ensued, General Johnston not seeming to deem himself expected to speak, when the President said: ‘We should like to hear your views, General Johnston.’ Upon this the General, without preface or introduction – his words translating the expression which his face had worn since he entered the room – said, in his terse, concise, demonstrative way, as if seeking to condense thoughts that were crowding for utterance: ‘My views are, sir, that our people are tired of the war, feel themselves whipped, and will not fight. Our country is overrun, its military resources greatly diminished, while the enemy’s military power and resources were never greater, and may be increased to any desired extent. We can not place another large army in the field; and, cut off as we are from foreign intercourse, I do not see how we could maintain it in fighting condition if we had it. My men are daily deserting in large numbers, and are taking my artillery teams to aid their escape to their homes. Since Lee’s defeat they regard the war as at an end. If I march out of North Carolina, her people will all leave my ranks. It will be the same as I proceed south through South Carolina and Georgia, and I shall expect to retain no man beyond the by-road or cow-path that leads to his house. My small force is melting away like snow before the sun, and I am hopeless of recruiting it. We may, perhaps, obtain terms which we ought to accept.’

“The tone and manner, almost spiteful, in which the General jerked out these brief, decisive sentences, pausing at every paragraph, left no doubt as to his own convictions. When he ceased speaking, whatever was thought of his statements – and their importance was fully understood – they elicited neither comment nor inquiry. The President, who, during their delivery, had sat with his eyes fixed upon a scrap of paper which he was folding and refolding abstractedly, and who had listened without a change of position or expression, broke the silence by saying, in a low, even tone: ‘What do you say, General Beauregard?’

“‘I concur in all General Johnston has said,’ he replied.

“Another silence, more eloquent of the full appreciation of the condition of the country than words could have been, succeeded, during which the President’s manner was unchanged.

“After a brief pause he said, without a variation of tone or expression, and without raising his eyes from the slip of paper between his fingers: ‘Well, General Johnston, what do you propose? You speak of obtaining terms. You know, of course, that the enemy refuses to treat with us. How do you propose to obtain terms?’

“‘I think the opposing Generals in the field may arrange them.’

“‘Do you think Sherman will treat with you?’

“‘I have no reason to think otherwise. Such a course would be in accordance with military usage, and legitimate.’

“‘We can easily try it, sir. If we can accomplish any good for the country, Heaven knows I am not particular as to forms. How will you reach Sherman?’

“‘I would address him a brief note, proposing an interview to arrange terms of surrender and peace, embracing, of course, a cessation of hostilities during the negotiations.’

“‘Well, sir, you can adopt this course, though I confess I am not sanguine as to ultimate results.’

“The member of the cabinet before referred to as conversing with General Johnston, and who was anxious that his views should be promptly carried out, immediately seated himself at the writing-table, and, taking up a pen, offered to act as the General’s amanuensis. At the request of the latter, however, the President dictated the letter to General Sherman, which was written at once upon a half sheet of letter folded as note paper, and signed by General Johnston, who took it, and said he would send it to General Sherman early in the morning, and in a few minutes the conference broke up. This note, which was a brief proposition for a suspension of hostilities, and a conference with a view to agreeing upon terms of peace, has been published with other letters which passed between the two Generals.

“On or about the 16th of April, the President, his staff, and cabinet left Greensboro’ to proceed still further south, with plans unformed, clinging to the hope that Johnston and Sherman would secure peace and the quiet of the country, but still all doubtful of the result, and still more doubtful as to consequences of failure.”

Pending the negotiations between Generals Johnston and Sherman, Mr. Davis was earnestly appealed to by his attendants to provide for his own safety, in the event of the failure to obtain terms from Sherman. There would have been no difficulty in his escaping either across the Mississippi into Mexico, or from the Florida coast to the West Indies. Apparently regardless of his personal safety, he was reluctant to contemplate leaving the country under any circumstances. It is certain that he would not have entertained the idea of an abandonment of any organized body of men yet willing to continue in arms for the cause.

Accompanied by the members of his cabinet, General Cooper, and other officers, some of whom were in ambulances, and others on horseback, Mr. Davis went from Greensboro’ to Lexington. Here he spent the night at the residence of an eminent citizen of North Carolina. Continuing their journey, the party reached Charlotte during the morning of the 18th of April. At this place were extensive establishments of the Confederate Government, and arrangements had already been made for the accommodation of Mr. Davis and his cabinet. During the day of his arrival at Charlotte, Mr. Davis received a dispatch from General Breckinridge – who, in company with Mr. Reagan, had returned to Greensboro’ to aid the negotiations between Johnston and Sherman – announcing the assassination of President Lincoln.

In connection with this event, Mr. Mallory writes as follows:

“To a friend who met him a few minutes after he had received it, and who expressed his incredulity as to its truthfulness, Mr. Davis replied that, true, it sounded like a canard, but, in such a condition of public affairs as the country then presented, a crime of this kind might be perpetrated. His friend remarked that the news was very disastrous fur the South, for such an event would substitute for the known humanity and benevolence of Mr. Lincoln a feeling of vindictiveness in his successor and in Congress, and that an attempt would doubtless be made to connect the Government or the people of the South with the assassination. To this Mr. Davis replied, sadly: ‘I certainly have no special regard for Mr. Lincoln, but there are a great many men of whose end I would much rather hear than his. I fear it will be disastrous to our people, and I regret it deeply.’”

Mr. Davis remained at Charlotte nearly a week. Meanwhile the terms of agreement between Johnston and Sherman were received, and by Mr. Davis submitted to the cabinet. At a meeting of the cabinet, held on the morning after the propositions were received, the written opinions of the various members were concurrent in favor of the acceptance of the Sherman-Johnston settlement. Three days afterwards, Mr. Davis was informed by General Johnston of the rejection, by the Federal Government, of the proposed settlement, and that he could obtain no other terms than those accorded by General Grant to General Lee. The surrender of General Johnston was, of course, conclusive of the Confederate cause east of the Mississippi. Whatever Mr. Davis’ hopes might have been previous to that event, and whatever his determination had been in case of disapproval by the Federal Government of Sherman’s course (a contingency which he anticipated), it was plain that Johnston’s surrender made resistance to the Federal Government east of the Mississippi impracticable.

Fully recognizing this fact, Mr. Davis was yet far from contemplating surrender at discretion. His hope now was to cross the Mississippi, carrying with him such bodies of troops as were willing to accompany him; these, added to the force of Kirby Smith, would make an army respectable in numbers, and occupying a country of abundant supplies. In the Trans-Mississippi region Mr. Davis would have continued the struggle, in the hope of obtaining more acceptable terms than had yet been offered. In this expectation he was greatly strengthened by the spirit of resistance indicated by bodies of men who had refused to lay down their arms with the surrendered armies of Lee and Johnston.

We again quote from the account of Mr. Mallory:

“No other course now seemed open to Mr. Davis but to leave the country, and his immediate advisers urged him to do so with the utmost promptitude. Troops began to come into Charlotte, however, escaping from Johnston’s surrender, and there was much talk amongst them of crossing the Mississippi, and continuing the war. Portions of Hampton’s, Debrell’s, Duke’s, and Ferguson’s commands of cavalry were hourly coming in. They seemed determined to get across the river, and fight it out; and, wherever they encountered Mr. Davis, they cheered, and sought to encourage him. It was evident that he was greatly affected by the constancy and spirit of these men, and that, regardless of his own safety, his thoughts dwelt upon the possibility of gathering together a body of troops to make head against the foe and to arouse the people to arms.

“His friends, however, saw the urgent expediency of getting further south as rapidly as possible, and, after a week’s stay at Charlotte, they left, with an escort of some two or three hundred cavalry, and, two days afterwards, reached Yorkville, South Carolina, traveling slowly, and not at all like men escaping from the country.

“In pursuing this route, the party met, near the Catawba River, a gentleman, whose plantation and homestead lay about half a mile from its banks, and who had come out to meet Mr. Davis, and to offer him the hospitality of his house.

“His dwelling, beautifully situated, and surrounded by ornate and cultivated grounds, was reached about 4 o’clock P. M., and the charming lady of the mansion, with that earnest sympathy and generous kindness which Mr. Davis, in misfortune, never failed to receive from Southern women, soon made every man of the party forget his cares, and feel, for a time at least, ‘o’er all the ills of life victorious.’

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“At Yorkville, Colonel Preston and other gentlemen had arranged for the accommodation of Mr. Davis and his party at private houses, and here they remained one night and part of the next day.

“A small cavalry escort scouted extensively, and kept Mr. Davis advised of the positions of the enemy’s forces – to avoid which was a matter of some difficulty. With this view, the party from Yorkville rode over to a point below Clinton, on the Lawrenceville and Columbus Railroad, and thence struck off to Cokesboro’, on the Greenville Railroad.

“Here the party received the kindest attention at private houses. On the evening of his arrival, Mr. Davis received news by a scout that the enemy’s cavalry, in considerable force, was but ten miles off, and that he was pressing stock upon all sides; and it was deemed advisable to make but a brief stay.

“At 2 o’clock in the morning Mr. Davis was aroused by another scout, who declared that he had left the enemy only ten miles off, and that they would be in the town in two or three hours. This intelligence infused energy throughout the little party. It was composed of men, however, familiar with real, no less than with rumored perils; men who had faced danger in too many forms to be readily started from their propriety; and preparations were very deliberately made with such force as could be mustered to pay due honor to his enterprise.

“Several hours elapsed without further intelligence of the enemy’s movements, and at half-past six in the morning the party rode out of Cokesboro’ toward Abbeville, expecting an encounter at any moment, but Abbeville was reached without seeing an enemy.

“At Abbeville the fragments of disorganized cavalry commands, which had thus far performed, in some respects, an escort’s duty, were found to be reduced to a handful of men anxious only to reach their homes as early as practicable, and whose services could not further be relied on. They had not surrendered nor given a parole, but they regarded the struggle as terminated, and themselves relieved from further duty to their officers or the Confederate States, and, with a few exceptions, determined to fight no more. They rode in couples or in small squads through the country, occasionally ‘impressing’ mules and horses, or exchanging their wretched beasts for others in better condition; and, outside of a deep and universal regret for the failure of their cause, usually expressed by the remark that ‘The old Confederacy has gone up,’ they were as gleeful and careless as boys released from school. Almost every cross-road witnessed the separation of comrades in arms, who had long shared the perils and privations of a terrific struggle, now seeking their several homes to resume their duties as peaceful citizens. Endeared to each other by their ardent love for a common cause – a cause which they deemed unquestionably right and just, and which, surrendered not to convictions of error, but to the logic of arms, was still as true and just as ever – their words of parting, few and brief, were words of warm, fraternal affection; pledges of endless regard, and mutual promises to meet again.

“From information gained here, it was evident that his cavalry was making a demonstration; but whether to capture Mr. Davis, or simply to expedite his departure from the country, could not be determined. The country, or at least those familiar with military movements at this period, have doubtless long since satisfied themselves upon this point.

“To suppose that Mr. Davis and his staff, embracing some eight or ten gentlemen, all superbly mounted, and with led horses, could ride from Charlotte, N. C., to Washington, Ga., by daylight, over the highroads of the country, their coming heralded miles in advance by returning Confederate soldiers, without the cognizance and consent of the Federal commanders, whose cavalry covered the country, would be to detract from all that was known of their activity and vigilance.

“Political considerations, adequate to account for this unmolested progress, may readily be imagined. Whether they influenced it is only known to those who had the direction of public affairs at the time. But be this as it may, Mr. Davis’ progress could not well have been more public and conspicuous.

“Mr. Davis, who was more generally known by the soldiers than any other man in the Confederacy, was never passed by them without a cheer, or some warm or kindly recognition or mark of respect. The fallen chief of a cause for which they had risked their lives and fortunes, and lost every thing but honor, his presence never failed to command their respect, and to add a tone of sympathy and sadness to the expression of their good wishes for his future. They knew not his plans for the future, nor could they conjecture what fate might have in store for him; but their hearts were with him, go where he might.

“Bronzed and weather-beaten veterans, who, when other hearts were sore afraid, still hoped on and fought ‘while gleamed the sword of noble Robert Lee,’ grasped his hand, without the power of giving voice to thoughts which their tear-glistening eyes revealed. Of such men were the great masses of the Confederate armies composed. Firm and inflexible in their convictions of right, and yielding not their convictions, but their armed maintenance of them only, to the stern arbitrament of war, they may be relied upon to observe with inviolable faith every pledge and duty to the United States, assumed or implied, by their submission or parole.

“At Abbeville Mr. Davis was again urged by his friends to leave the country, either from the southern shores of Florida or by crossing the Mississippi and going to Mexico through Texas; but though he listened quietly to all they had to say upon the subject, and seemed to acquiesce in their views, he never expressed a decided willingness or readiness to do so.

“To some of his friends it was apparent that his capture was not specially sought by the military authorities, and that he had but to change his dress and his horse, and to travel with a single friend, to pass unrecognized and in safety to the sea-shore, and there embark. Hitherto, as has been already said, his coming along his selected route was known to the people miles in advance. Schools were dismissed that the children might, upon the road-side, greet him. Ladies, with fruits and flowers, presented with tears of sympathy, were seen at the gates of every homestead, far in advance, awaiting his approach; and it was hardly supposable that the general in command, whose spies, and scouts, and cavalry covered the country, and were heard of upon all sides, was the only person uninformed of Mr. Davis’ movements.

“The assertion that General Sherman, aware of this journey, permitted it to facilitate the departure of Mr. Davis and his friends from the country, is not made or designed; for it is possible that his capture was desired and attempted; but the facts are matters of history, and are given regardless of the speculations which they may justify.

“The party left Abbeville at 11 o’clock the same night for Washington, Georgia, a distance of some forty-five miles, and by riding briskly they reached the Savannah River at daylight, crossing it upon a pontoon bridge, and rode into Washington at about 10 o’clock A. M. Just before leaving Abbeville they learned that a body of Federal cavalry was en route to destroy this bridge, and might reach it before them, and hence they pushed on vigorously, meeting no enemy, but delayed about an hour by mistaking the right road.