We have said that Jefferson Davis must ever appear to the eye of mankind the historic representative of the Confederate cause. The North can not, assuredly, reject this decision, since it made him the vicarious sufferer for what it affected to consider the sins of a nation. Through him, it actually accomplished that from which the great abilities of Edmund Burke recoiled in confession of impotent endeavor, the indictment of an entire people. Those Southern men who have rashly and ungenerously assailed him as responsible for the failure of the South to win its independence, can not complain if the verdict of history shall be that the genius of its leader was worthy of a noble cause, whose fate the laws of nature, not the resources or the impotence of one man, determined. The star of Napoleon went down upon the disastrous field of Waterloo, and the millions that he had liberated passed again under the domination of tyrants whom they despised. But would the most stupid Bourbon partisan, therefore, call in question the mighty genius of Napoleon? It is a glorious memory to France, that her illustrious sovereign, aided by the valor of her children, defied for twenty years, the arms of combined Europe, but she has no blush that those energies were not equal to an indefinite resistance. That the South, struggling against mortal odds, with her comparatively feeble resources constantly diminishing with each prodigious effort, finally succumbed to an enemy inexhaustible in strength and reinforced by the world, is no testimony against either the valor or the skill with which her struggle was directed. Like Washington, Davis was embarrassed, in a hazardous cause, with defection, distrust, and discontent. But, unlike Washington, Davis did not receive the assistance of a powerful ally at the moment when aid could be most serviceably employed.
Recurring to the early history of the Confederacy, during the brief season when Montgomery was its seat of government, and especially to its unwritten details, there seems wanting no auspicious omen to presage for it future security and renown. The cause and its leader equally challenged the enthused sympathies of a patriotic people, and all that patriotism was ready to sacrifice for the one was cheerfully confided to the other. Hopefully, almost joyously, the young Confederacy began its short-lived career. Those were the halcyon days of that cheap patriotism and ferocious valor which delights to vaunt itself beyond the sound of “war’s rude alarms.” Every aspect of the situation appears tinged with the couleur de rose. In fancied security of certain independence, achieved without the harsh resort of arms, demagogues boasted that they courted a trial of strength with the North, as an opportunity for the display of Southern prowess. Men who subsequently were noted for unscrupulous assaults upon the Confederate administration, and, since the war, for their ready prostration before the Northern juggernaut, were then loud in “never surrender” proclamations of eternal separation from the North.
Such was not an appropriate season for expressing grave and painful doubts of the President’s fitness for his high trust. No whisper was then heard of his want of appreciation of his situation. There was no intimation then that he failed to discern the future, or refused to provide against the perils that menaced the Confederacy, and were so obvious to more sagacious minds. Sensational newspaper correspondents, professing to base their accounts upon reliable hints from the executive quarter, were profuse in their panegyrics upon his indefatigable industry, his vigilance, penetration, and marvelous intuition of Yankee designs. They vied with each other in telling the world, especially the North, of the stupendous preparations which the Government was making in anticipation of a possible attempt at coercion by the Lincoln government. It was evident, from the outgivings of every source of opinion, that the Confederates trusting much to the merits of their cause and their own valor, yet largely depended for the successful issue of their assertion of independence upon the soldier-statesman, who, charged with many public duties, had never proven either unwilling or incapable in any trust. The time for censure was not yet at hand. Incompetent generals and recreant politicians were not yet in want of a scape-goat upon which to throw their own delinquencies. Harsh and censorious criticism was reserved for a more opportune period, when the Confederacy, like a wearied gladiator, whose spirit was invincible, reeled under the exhaustion of a dozen successive combats, with as many fresh adversaries.
The high administrative capacity of Mr. Davis had received a most fortunate discipline in his brilliant conduct of the Federal War Department. That service was a valuable auxiliary to his efficiency as the executive head of a new government, whose safety was, from its incipiency, to depend upon the resources of that rarest phase of genius, the combined capacity for civil and military administration. The complex machinery of government, even when moving smoothly in the accustomed grooves, imposes not only severe labor, but is frequently a painful tax upon the faculties of those most familiar with its workings. When to the labor of comprehension is added the task of construction and organization from comparative chaos, such as prevailed at Montgomery, and as prevails every-where, as the result of political change, the difficulties are increased tenfold. Creation must then precede order. Organization is to be perfected before administration can be successfully attempted. It is this task of organization which has invoked some of the most splendid displays of genius, and interposed the obstacles which have occasioned its severest disappointments. Universal testimony awards to Napoleon, for his wonderful ingenuity in penetrating social necessities and meeting civil emergencies, a merit not inferior to his unrivaled genius for war. Frederick the Great, in times of peace, exhibited a vicious pragmatism which rendered his civil rule contemptible when contrasted with his military success.
The underlying secret of all successful administration is the union of the advantages flowing from unity of purpose, and those resulting from division of labor—so necessary to exact and intelligent execution. President Davis, throughout his administration, sought the attainment of this aim. Confiding the various departments to men of at least reputed talents and integrity, he yet exercised that constant supervision which was inseparable from his responsibilities, and exacted by public expectation, and this without arrogance or dictation. Disingenuous criticism has alleged that, by an assumption of autocracy, he united in himself all the powers and prerogatives of government, and thus professes to hold him alone responsible for the loss of his country’s liberties. A score of years, or even a decade hence, and he will be exalted as the all-informing mind which directed, vitalized, and inspired the noblest struggle of republicanism known to ancient or modern story.
At the organization of the Confederate Government, his individual taste, capacity and experience, were fortunately coincident with the necessities of the situation in urging upon President Davis a thorough and efficient military establishment upon a war footing. The necessity of thorough preparation for war with the United States was never lost sight of by him. Whatever his efforts to avert that calamity, its probabilities were too menacing not to challenge unremitting precautions. In the War Department and military legislation of the Confederacy was felt the infusion of his energy and system, and were realized the fruits of his labors. There can be no more splendid monument of his genius than that superb specimen of scientific mechanism, the army of the Confederate States. Its nucleus was prepared in those few weeks’ respite from actual war, passed by the Confederate Government, at Montgomery; and the framework then established was subsequently enlarged upon, until it was developed into a model of military anatomy—of complex, yet harmonious organism—seldom rivaled and never surpassed in the history of war. Whatever may be said of defective features exhibited in the Confederate military organization, in the numerous and varied campaigns of the war, those defects are not to be attributed to the original system. Whatever may be alleged against its lax discipline—that morbid influence which so fearfully enervated its efficiency, neutralized valor and strategy, and made the war a series of magnificent but valueless successes, the shadow without the substance of victory—the fault was in the execution, not in the original conception. However admirably tempered the blade, that must be a skillful hand which would efficiently wield it.
A graduate of West Point and a practical as well as theoretical soldier, President Davis naturally and, as the war demonstrated, wisely inclined in his military administration to those theories which regard war as a science difficult and laborious of mastery. His marked and judicious partiality for educated soldiers was often the ground of censorious comment during the war, but this will hardly be adjudged a fault now. “West Point” was amply vindicated by the experience of both armies, against the sneers of those who affected such extreme admiration for the “native genius” of citizen-soldiers. With a few notable exceptions in the Confederate army (and here is to be considered the peculiar genius for war of the South), and scarcely one worth mention in the armies of the North, the achievements of educated officers, and those of officers from civil life, are so utterly disproportionate as to forbid comparison.
The paramount object of all Confederate diplomacy was to secure a recognition of the new Government by the Government of the United States. If war with the United States could be averted, the Confederacy was, for all time, a fixed fact. At an early period President Davis instituted efforts to secure by negotiation possession of certain fortifications and other property of the Federal Government located within the limits of the seceded States. Arsenals, located in the interior, had, in many instances, been seized by the State troops previous to the formation of the Confederate Government. Happily, those in authority at these places, appreciating the folly of resistance in a situation utterly helpless, had avoided a needless shedding of blood, by a prompt compliance with the demands of the State authorities.
When the Confederate Government went into operation, there were but two fortifications within the limits of its jurisdiction in the possession of Federal garrisons: Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbor, and Fort Pickens, off Pensacola, Florida. These two positions were of the utmost value to the Confederacy, viewed as to location, and their peaceable acquisition was of increased importance in consideration of the obstinate defense of which they were capable. The continued occupation of these positions by Federal forces was, in the highest degree, inconsistent with the dignity of the Confederacy after it had proclaimed a distinct and independent nationality. Moreover, in the present temper of the dominant party in the United States, a large majority of which favored coercion of the South back into the Union, Federal occupancy of these forts was a menace to the safety of the Confederacy.
It is easy to appreciate the delicate character of the diplomacy now required by the situation of the Confederacy. Without at all acquiescing in the Federal possession of Sumter and Pickens—on the contrary, asserting the right of the Confederacy to those places, and avowing its willingness to give adequate compensation whenever they should be surrendered—it was yet necessary to avoid affront to a respectable minority at the North, influenced, apparently, by pacific intentions. In short, it became the settled policy of the Confederate Government to postpone collision with the Federal Government until the latest possible moment—until obvious considerations of public safety should impel a resort to hostile measures.