The Life of Jefferson Davis

by Frank H. Alfriend

“Albert Sidney Johnston,” says Professor Bledsoe, in a recent publication, “who, take him all in all, was the simplest, bravest, grandest man we have ever known, once said to the present writer: ‘There is no measuring such a man as Davis;’ and this high tribute had a fitting counterpart in that which Davis paid Johnston, when discussing, in the Federal Senate, the Utah expedition. Said he ... ‘I hold that the country is indebted to the administration for having selected the man who is at the head of the expedition; who, as a soldier, has not a superior in the army or out of it; and whose judgment, whose art, whose knowledge is equal to this or any other emergency; a man of such decision, such resolution that his country’s honor can never be tarnished in his hands; a man of such calmness, such kindness, that a deluded people can never suffer by harshness from him.’”

President Davis immediately tendered to General Johnston the command of one of the two grand military divisions of the Confederacy, and he as promptly repaired to the scene of his duties.

The general features of General Johnston’s policy contemplated a line of defense running from the Mississippi through the region immediately covering Nashville to Cumberland Gap—the key to the defense of East Tennessee and South-western Virginia, and thus to the most vital line of communication in the South. It is easy to conceive the large force requisite for so important and difficult a task, against the immense armies of Grant and Buell, numbering, in the aggregate, more than one hundred thousand men. Despite the earnest appeals of General Johnston, and notwithstanding that upon the successful maintenance of his position depended the successful defense of the entire southern and south-western sections of the Confederacy, his force, at the last of January, 1862, did not exceed twenty-six thousand men. Informed of his perilous situation, the Confederate Government could do no more than second the appeals and remonstrances of General Johnston. Slight accessions were made to his force from the States which were menaced, but, as results speedily demonstrated, he was unable to meet the enemy with an adequate force at any one of the vital points of his defensive line.

In the immediate front of General Johnston’s position was the army of Buell, estimated at forty thousand men, which, during the entire winter, was in training for its meditated advance along the line of the railroad in the direction of Nashville. Under Grant, at Cairo, was an army of more than fifty thousand men, which, in coöperation with a formidable naval force, was designed to operate against Nashville, and, by securing possession of the line of the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers, to hold Kentucky and West Tennessee. General Johnston’s position was indeed a cruel dilemma, and was sufficiently explained in a letter to President Davis, representing the inadequacy of his force, for either front of attack, upon a line whose every point demanded ample defense. Only a self-denying patriotism could have induced General Johnston to occupy his false position before the public, which accredited to him an army ample even for aggressive warfare. With an almost certain prospect of disaster, he nevertheless resolved to make the supreme effort which alone could avert it.

His plan was to meet Grant’s attack upon Nashville with sixteen thousand men, hoping, in the meanwhile, by boldly confronting Buell with the residue of his forces, to hold in check the enemy in his immediate front. During the winter, by a skillful disposition of his forces and adroit maneuvers, he deceived the enemy as to his real strength, and thus deferred the threatened advance until the month of February.

The month of January, 1862, was to witness the first check to the arms of the Confederacy, after seven months of uninterrupted victory. The scene of the disaster was near Somerset, Kentucky. The forces engaged were inconsiderable as compared with the conflicts of a few weeks later, but the result was disheartening to the impatient temper of the South, not yet chastened by the severe trials of adversity. General Crittenden was badly defeated, though, as is probable, through no erroneous calculation or defective generalship on his part. A melancholy feature of the disaster was the death of General Zollicoffer. With the repulse and retreat of the Confederate forces after the battle of Fishing Creek, as the action was called, followed the virtual possession of South-eastern Kentucky by the Federal army. The Confederate line of defense in Kentucky was thus broken, and the value of other positions materially impaired.

Early in February the infantry columns of Grant and the gunboats of Commodore Foote commenced the ascent of the Tennessee River. The immediate object of assault was Fort Henry, an imperfectly constructed fortification, on the east bank of the river, near the dividing line of Kentucky and Tennessee. After a signal display of gallantry by its commander, General Tilghman, the fort was surrendered, the main body of the forces defending it having been previously sent to Fort Donelson, the principal defense of the Cumberland River. The capture of Fort Henry opened the Tennessee River, penetrating the States of Tennessee and Alabama, and navigable for steamers for more than two hundred miles, to the unchecked advance of the enemy.

General Grant promptly advanced to attack Fort Donelson. After a series of bloody engagements and a siege of several days, Fort Donelson was surrendered, with the garrison of more than nine thousand men. This result was indeed a heavy blow to the Confederacy, and produced a most alarming crisis in the military affairs of the Western Department. General Johnston was near Nashville, with the force which had lately held Bowling Green, the latter place having been evacuated during the progress of the fight at Fort Donelson. Nashville was immediately evacuated, and the remnant of General Johnston’s army retreated southward, first to Murfreesboro’, Tennessee, and afterwards crossed the Tennessee, at Decatur, Alabama.

In January, General Beauregard had been transferred from Virginia to Kentucky, and, at the time of the surrender of Nashville, was in command of the forces in the neighborhood of Columbus, Kentucky, which protected the passage of the Mississippi. The entire Confederate line of defense in Kentucky and Tennessee having been lost with the surrender of Forts Henry and Donelson, its various posts became untenable. In a subsequent portion of this narrative, we shall trace the results of the Confederate endeavor to establish a new line of defense in the West by a judicious and masterly combination of forces.

Meanwhile, the preparations of the enemy in the East were even more formidable and threatening than in the West. It was in Virginia that the “elastic spirit” of the North, as the Richmond Examiner termed the alacrity of the consecutive popular uprisings in favor of the war at the North, was chiefly ambitious and hopeful of decisive results in favor of the Union. Here was to be sought retrieval of the national honor lost at Manassas; here was the capital of the Confederacy, which, once taken, the “rebellion would collapse.” The energy and administrative ability of General McClellan had accomplished great results in the creation of a fine army and the security of the capital. But, with the opening of the season favorable to military operations, he was expected to accomplish far more decisive results—nothing less than the capture of Richmond, the expulsion of the Confederate authority from Virginia, and the destruction of the Confederate army at Manassas.