And yet the secret is only half out—the story, as yet, but half told. The losses of time, of money, and of lives heretofore spoken of relate only to the North—the Southern side of the story remains yet to be told; for in this volume we are writing no less for the information of Southern than of Northern men, nor would we in this record do any less justice to the South than to the North.
Jefferson Davis, however wild and mistaken politically, was never other than a high-minded, chivalrous gentleman. He was just as honest in his advocacy of slavery as Paul was in his advocacy of Phariseeism; and when Davis went forth to catch, imprison, and, if need be, to slay the enemies of slavery, he did it as conscientiously as Paul did, or meant to do, his work, in going to Damascus with the commission of a high-priest in his pocket Not only so, but President Davis was a man of deep knowledge, a thorough statistician, a cool calculator, and one who never took a step without first carefully counting the cost. He was the farthest possible remove from a reckless man. When a young man in the United States army and with the troops in Mexico, he never struck a blow, or made the least move, without first considering all the chances. In this respect he was almost as careful and as prudent as his renowned father-in-law, General Zachary Taylor. As a United States Senator he was remarkable for his caution and foresight, and though he sometimes took part in sharp debate, his general political tactics were conservative, watch for chances, investigate thoroughly, and then strike with effect.
Now, we have it only second-handed from President Davis's own lips that he would never have thought of a war with the North—never would have recommended such a war—never would have engaged in such a war—"but for encouragement given him, and actual pledges made him, by leading Democrats of the Northern States." He had once been Secretary of War; he had been a United States Senator for several years preceding the rebellion; he thoroughly understood the resources, not only of the general government, but of each individual State, and would, as he said, have thought it perfect madness for the South to have attempted a separate confederation, "but for the pledges of assistance made him and others by leading Democrats of the Northern States." Of this, as an historical fact, there is no more doubt than that there was a war. Outside of President Davis's own word, the facts heretofore related in this volume, and a thousand others which might be adduced, are confirmatory of these statements. .
Again, the men whom President Davis had about him as a Cabinet and as outside advisers were generally men of marked intelligence and large experience, one of whom (John Tyler) had been President of the United States; some had been United States Senators; others, Congressmen; others had all their lives been connected with the army or navy; and scarcely one of all but what thoroughly understood the strength and resources, not only of the general government, but of each State, North and South. Is it to be presumed that a single one of these men would have ever thought of rebellion, or said one word to encourage it, but for the assurances they had from leading Northern Democrats that the party, as a party, would sustain them in such a movement?
If these facts be admitted, and this inference be conceded, does it not follow as an inevitable conclusion that the Democratic party, as a party, is responsible before God, and should be held responsible before all men, for the time wasted, the money squandered, and the lives sacrificed by the South in their attempt to establish a separate confederacy?
We cannot give the exact figures, for the archives of the Confederate government were mostly destroyed when the rebels fled and the Union army took possession of Richmond; but think, reader, think how many weary days, and weeks, and months, and years of untold suffering that was caused by that mad and murderous attempt; think of the houses burned, homes desolated, plantations ruined, by the frenzy and fury of reckless demagogues; think of the thousands of affluent families made homeless and penniless by this mad attempt, and of the thousands upon thousands who were once comfortable now turned out as beggars to die, through the efforts of a band of conspirators; think of the millions upon millions of hard-earned dollars squandered, worse than squandered, by this mad attempt; think of the thousands upon thousands of wives made widows, children made fatherless, parents made childless, by this foul treason; and then think—for if you are honest with your own conscience, and can rid yourself of political prejudice, you must think it—that all this waste of time, all this squandering of money, all this sacrifice of lives, all this suffering of wives, of children, of parents, is unquestionably chargeable to the Democratic party; and, with this last thought, ask yourself the question, What should be thought of—what should be the fate of—a party guilty of such unparalleled wickedness?
Of course, to this last question there could be but one answer, and yet the party feebly lives! Why it lives—for what purpose it lives—would be the next question which would naturally arise with every searcher after truth. To these inquiries we will try to give an answer, not an opinion merely, but an answer founded upon accredited history, as have been all the answers heretofore given.
It is well known to every student of history that, as far back as 1817, the leading sovereigns and princes of Europe, in their solemn conclaves and secret treaties with each other, formed the determination to subvert the liberties of the United States. Much of what was said and done at that time leaked out, and was duly communicated by our ministers and consuls abroad to the general government; but so conscious was our government of its own strength in the hearts of the people, that all such threats passed them by like the idle wind. When, however, the Duke of Richmond died in Montreal in 1819—a man whom everybody knew to be a sagacious and wise statesman, and whose many high employments had made him intimate with all the sovereigns and politics of Europe, and whose deep personal interests at stake gave to his opinions immense weight—and when he declared, a short time before his death, that "The surplus population of Europe, when not wanted for the armies and navies of their own land, would be permitted to flock here, and would be entitled to vote; and, mingling in the elections without a knowledge or a love of the laws, or even the language, of the country, will be tools for demagogues, and create a disturbing influence, which the government cannot withstand;" and when to this he added, "I have conversed with many of the princes and sovereigns of Europe, particularly with George III. and Louis XVIII., and they have unanimously expressed these opinions relative to the government of the United States, and their determination to subvert it"—when, we say, these were published and became generally known shortly after his death, they did for a little while create some excitement, and both government officials and the people had something to say about these statements; but such was the confidence felt in our own strength, that the words of the Duke were soon forgotten, and were laid away with the "mouldering past."
Only three years thereafter (in A. d. 1822) the great powers of Europe held a congress at Vienna, and among the conclusions then and there reached, and which formed a part of their treaty stipulations, the two following cannot but strike Americans with great force:
"Article I. The high contracting powers being convinced that the system of representative governments is equally as incompatible with monarchical principles, as the maxim of the sovereignty of the people with the divine right of kings, engage mutually, in the most solemn manner, to use all their efforts to put an end to the system of representative governments in Europe, and to prevent its being introduced into those countries where it is not known.