Next came the atrocious proclamation charging Mr. Davis with complicity in the assassination of President Lincoln. It is safe to say that incidents hitherto prominent by their infamy, will be forgotten by history, in comparison with the dastardly criminal intent which instigated that document. Circumstances warrant the belief that not one of the conspirators against the life and honor of Mr. Davis, believed either then or now, that the charge had one atom of truth. Had the charge been honestly made, it would have been disavowed, when its falsity became apparent. But this would not have subserved the end of the conspirators, and the poison was permitted to circulate and rankle, long after the calumny had been exploded during the investigations of the military commission, in the cases of Mrs. Surratt and Captain Wirz. At length justice was vindicated by the publication of the confidential correspondence between Holt and Conover, which disclosed the unparalleled subornation and perjury upon which the conspirators relied. Well has it been said that the world will yet wonder “how it was that a people, passing for civilized and Christian, should have consigned Jefferson Davis to a cell, while they tolerated Edwin M. Stanton as a Cabinet Minister.”
We have no desire to dwell upon the details of Mr. Davis’ long and cruel imprisonment. The story is one over which the South has wept tears of agony, at whose recital the civilized world revolted, and which, in years to come, will mantle with shame the cheek of every American citizen who values the good name of his country. In a time of profound peace, when the last vestige of resistance to Federal authority had disappeared in the South, Mr. Davis, wrecked in fortune and in health, in violation of every fundamental principle of American liberty, of justice and humanity, was detained for two years, without trial, in close confinement, and, during a large portion of this period, treated with all the rigor of a sentenced convict.
But if indeed Mr. Davis was thus to be prejudged as the “traitor” and “conspirator” which the Stantons, and Holts, and Forneys declared him to be, why should he be selected from the millions of his advisers and followers, voluntary participants in his assumed “treason,” as the single victim of cruelty, outrage, and indignity? What is there in his antecedents inconsistent with the character of a patriotic statesman devoted to the promotion of union, fraternity, harmony, and faithful allegiance to the Constitution and laws of his country? We have endeavored faithfully to trace his distinguished career as a statesman and soldier, and at no stage of his life is there to be found, either in his conduct or declared opinions, the evidence of infidelity to the Union as its character and objects were revealed to his understanding. Nor is there to be found in his personal character any support of that moral turpitude which a thousand oracles of falsehood have declared to have peculiarly characterized his commission of “treason.”
No tongue and pen were more eloquent than his in describing the grandeur, glory, and blessings of the Union, and in invoking for its perpetuation the aspirations and prayers of his fellow-citizens. In the midst of passion and tumult, in 1861, he was conspicuous by his zeal for compromise, and for a pacific solution of difficulties. No Southern Senator abandoned his seat with so pathetic and regretful an announcement of the necessity which compelled the step. The sorrowful tone of his valedictory moistened the eye of every listener, and convinced even political adversaries of the sincerity and purity of his motives. His elevation to the Presidency of the Confederacy was not dictated by the recognition of any supposed title to leadership in the secession movement. His election was indeed a triumph over the extreme sentiment of the South, and was declared by those who opposed it to involve a compromise of the exclusive sectionalism which was the basis of the new government. His administration of the Confederate Government exhibited the same unswerving loyalty to duty, to justice and humanity, which his previous life so nobly exemplified. The people of the South alone know how steadfastly he opposed the indulgence of vengeance; how he strove, until the last moments of the struggle, to restrain the rancor and bitterness so naturally engendered under the circumstances. Yet, when Jefferson Davis lay a helpless prisoner in the strongest fortress of the Union, with “broad patches of skin abraded” by the irons upon his limbs, men were practically pardoned who had devoted years of labor to the purpose of disunion, and had reproached him for not unfurling the “black flag.” Is not the inference, then, justified that all of these tortures and indignities were aimed at the people and the cause which his dignity, purity, and genius had so exalted in the eyes of mankind?
But how impotent are falsehood and malignity to obstruct the illumination of truth! As subornation and perjury proved unavailing to convict him of atrocious guilt, so equally has persecution failed to accomplish its purpose. To all that shameful picture of barbarous violence and gratuitous insult; of insolent espionage and vulgar curiosity; of the illustrious leader of a brave people, whose whole life does not exhibit one act of meanness or shame, or one word of untruth, crushed by disaster, and prostrate with disease, fettered as if he were a desperate felon; restricted in his diet, and not even permitted a change of linen, except by the authority of a military jailer; an object of unrelaxed scrutiny, often driven to his cell by the peering curiosity of vulgar men and unsexed women—to all this there was but one relief—the patient and constant heroism of the sufferer, giving heart to his despairing countrymen, and ennobling his own captivity. History furnishes no similar instance of patient and dignified endurance of adversity and persecution.
The incidents of Mr. Davis’ history since his release from Fortress Monroe, do not require detailed narration. For the most part they are confined to that domain of privacy which decency holds to be inviolable. When two years—wanting a few days—from the date of his incarceration had elapsed, Mr. Davis was transferred by the military authorities to the custody of the Federal civil authorities at Richmond. Here, amid the congratulations of friends, and the rejoicings of the community, which loves him as it loves but one other—his constant friend and compeer in fame—he was released from custody under circumstances which are well known. The interval between his release in May, 1867, and his re-appearance before the Federal court, at Richmond, in the ensuing November, was passed by Mr. Davis in Canada. There he was the recipient of the respect and sympathy which his character and his sufferings might have been expected to elicit from a humane people. At the November term of the Federal court, Mr. Davis was again present, with his eminent counsel, awaiting trial, and was again released upon recognizance to appear on the 25th March, 1868.
In the face of the close proximity of the event, it would be unprofitable to speculate as to the sequel of this third appearance of Jefferson Davis before a judicial tribunal, to answer the charge of treason. Nor do we propose to add to the brief consideration, which has already been given in this volume, of the legal and historical question involved in the case of Mr. Davis. The subject has been exhausted. The masterly expositions by Mr. Davis of the theory of the Federal Government (some of which we have given), are at once the complete vindications of himself and his countrymen, and the sufficient monuments of his fame.
But are the issues of the war to be subjected to candid and impartial legal adjudication? Will the North approve this raising of a doubt as to its own justification, merely in the hope of vengeance upon one who is powerless for injury? But if there is to be admitted another jurisdiction than that of War; if the arbitrament of battle is to be carried to the higher tribunal of Law and Public Opinion; if there is to be a trial and not a judicial farce, with a foregone conclusion and a prejudged sentence, the South and its late leader will not shrink from the verdict. Of this, the world requires no more emphatic iteration than that furnished by past events.
But the decision of this question, whatever it may be, can not recover the wager which the South gallantly staked and irretrievably lost. Time will show, however, the amount of truth in the prophecy of Jefferson Davis, made in reply to the remark that the cause of the Confederacy was lost: “It appears so. But the principle for which we contended is bound to re-assert itself, though it may be at another time and in another form.”