The Life of Jefferson Davis

All through the autumn and winter of 1861 he had maintained his perilous position in Kentucky, confronted by forces quadruple his own, and yet assailed by an impatient and ignorant public, for not essaying invasion, with a force which subsequent events proved inadequate for defense. But not even the hideous array of facts following the reverses of February secured his vindication; still he was assailed by an unreasoning public, instigated by a carping, partisan press. He was ridiculed as incompetent – as one who had traversed the curriculum of West Point, only to become educated in the frippery of military etiquette. For the first time, President Davis was charged with a desire to reward favorites, even at the risk of the public welfare, as illustrated by his retention in high command, of one whom actual trial had proven incapable, and undeserving of his previous reputation.

But President Davis, happily for his own fame, not less than for the fame of this illustrious victim of popular clamor, was unmoved by the censures of the public, and the invectives of the newspapers. He did not permit the confidence which, upon deliberate judgment, and upon a long and intimate acquaintance, he had reposed in General Johnston, to be shaken, and sternly repelled the clamor against him, as he afterwards did in the case of Lee, and even of Stonewall Jackson. His habitual reply to importunate petitions for the removal of Johnston was: “If Sidney Johnston is incompetent to command an army, then the Confederacy has no general fit for that position.”

Humanity rejoices in no attribute more noble than the capacity for warm and enduring friendship; and there is nothing more exalted in the character of Jefferson Davis than his devotion to his friends. At all times as true as steel to those for whom he professes attachment, he knows no cold medium, cherishes no feeling of indifference, but his nature kindles responsively to the warmth in the bosom of others. A like enthusiasm towards himself has usually been the reward of his heroic constancy. In Sidney Johnston there was that touching union of chivalric generosity and tender sympathy, which peculiarly qualified him for fellowship with Jefferson Davis. Such friendship, as that which united them, rises to the sublimity of the noblest virtue, and presents a spectacle honorable to human nature.

President Davis commemorated the death of General Johnston in a communication to Congress, and in terms of touching and appropriate feeling. Said he:

“But an all-wise Creator has been pleased, while vouchsafing to us His countenance in battle, to afflict us with a severe dispensation, to which we must bow in humble submission. The last, long, lingering hope has disappeared, and it is but too true that General Albert Sidney Johnston is no more. My long and close friendship with this departed chieftain and patriot forbid me to trust myself in giving vent to the feelings, which this intelligence has evoked. Without doing injustice to the living, it may safely be said that our loss is irreparable. Among the shining hosts of the great and good who now cluster around the banner of our country, there exists no purer spirit, no more heroic soul, than that of the illustrious man whose death I join you in lamenting. In his death he has illustrated the character for which, through life, he was conspicuous – that of singleness of purpose and devotion to duty with his whole energies. Bent on obtaining the victory which he deemed essential to his country’s cause, he rode on to the accomplishment of his object, forgetful of self, while his very life-blood was fast ebbing away. His last breath cheered his comrades on to victory. The last sound he heard was their shout of victory. His last thought was his country, and long and deeply will his country mourn his loss.”

The battle of Shiloh was an incident of the war justifying more than a passing notice. Never since Manassas, and never upon any subsequent occasion, had the Confederacy an opportunity so abundant in promise. The utmost exertions of the Government had been employed to make the Western army competent for the great enterprise proposed by its commander. The situation of Grant’s army absolutely courted the tremendous blow with which Johnston sought its destruction, a result which, in all human calculation, he would have achieved had his life been spared. At the moment of his death a peerless victory was already won; the heavy masses of Grant were swept from their positions; before nightfall his last reserve had been broken, and his army lay, a cowering, shrunken, defeated rabble, upon the banks of the Tennessee. That, at such a moment, the army should have been recalled from pursuit, especially when it was known that a powerful reinforcement, ample to enable the enemy to restore his fortunes, was hastening, by forced marches, to the scene, must ever remain a source of profound amazement.

It was the story of Manassas repeated, but with a far more mournful significance. It was not the failure to gather the fruits of the most complete victory of the war, nor the irreparable loss of Sidney Johnston, which filled the cup of the public sorrow. Superadded to these was the alarming discovery that the second great army of the Confederacy, in the death of its commander, was deprived of the genius which alone had been proven capable of its successful direction. Johnston had no worthy successor, and the Western army discovered no leader capable of conducting it to the goal which its splendid valor deserved.

A very perceptible diminution of what had hitherto been unlimited confidence, not only in the genius, but even in the good fortune of Beauregard, was the result of his declared failure at Shiloh. Not even his distinguished services, subsequently, were sufficient to entirely efface that unfortunate record. Military blunders, perhaps the most excusable of human errors, are those which popular criticism is the least disposed to extenuate. The reputation of the soldier, so sacred to himself, and which should be so jealously guarded by his country, is often mercilessly mutilated by that public, upon whose gratitude and indulgence he should have an unlimited demand. We shall not undertake to establish the justice of the public verdict, which has been unanimous, that the course of General Beauregard involved, at least, an “extraordinary abandonment of a great victory.” It only remains to state the material from which a candid and intelligent estimate is to be reached.

General Beauregard has explained his course, in terms which, it is to be presumed, were at least satisfactory to himself. His official report says: “Darkness was close at hand; officers and men were exhausted by a combat of over twelve hours without food, and jaded by the march of the preceding day through mud and water.”

General Bragg, who conspicuously shared the laurels of the first day’s action, has recorded a memorable protest against the course adopted at its close. Says General Bragg … “It was now probably past four o’clock, the descending sun warning us to press our advantage and finish the work before night should compel us to desist. Fairly in motion, these commands again, with a common head and a common purpose, swept all before them. Neither battery nor battalion could withstand their onslaught. Passing through camp after camp, rich in military spoils of every kind, the enemy was driven headlong from every position, and thrown in confused masses upon the river bank, behind his heavy artillery, and under cover of his gunboats at the landing. He had left nearly the whole of his light artillery in our hands.”… The enemy had fallen back in much confusion, and was crowded, in unorganized masses, upon the river bank, vainly striving to cross. They were covered by a battery of heavy guns, well served, and their two gunboats, now poured a heavy fire upon our supposed position, for we were entirely hid by the forest. Their fire, though terrific in sound, and producing some consternation at first, did us no damage, as the shells all passed over, and exploded far beyond our position… The sun was about disappearing, so that little time was left us to finish the glorious work of the day… Our troops, greatly exhausted by twelve hours’ incessant fighting, without food, mostly responded to the order with alacrity, and the movement commenced with every prospect of success… Just at this time, an order was received from, the commanding general to withdraw the forces beyond the enemy’s fire.

The testimony of General Polk, also a distinguished participant in the battle, was concurrent with that of General Bragg, and no less emphatic in its suggestions. In his report is to be found the following passage:

“The troops under my command were joined by those of Generals Bragg and Breckinridge, and my fourth brigade, under General Cheatham, from the right. The field was clear. The rest of the forces of the enemy were driven to the river and under its bank. We had one hour or more of daylight still left; were within from one hundred and fifty to four hundred yards of the enemy’s position, and nothing seemed wanting to complete the most brilliant victory of the war, but to press forward and make a vigorous assault on the demoralized remnant of his forces.

“At this juncture his gunboats dropped down the river, near the landing, where his troops were collected, and opened a tremendous cannonade of shot and shell over the bank, in the direction from which our forces were approaching. The height of the plain on which we were, above the level of the water, was about one hundred feet, so that it was necessary to give great elevation to his guns, to enable him to fire over the bank. The consequence was that shot could take effect only at points remote from the river’s edge. They were comparatively harmless to our troops nearest the bank, and became increasingly so to us as we drew near the enemy and placed him between us and his boats.

“Here the impression arose that our forces were waging an unequal contest – that they were exhausted, and suffering from a murderous fire, and by an order from the commanding general they were withdrawn from the field.”

President Davis could only share the universal dissatisfaction with the unfortunate termination of the battle of Shiloh. A conclusive evidence of his forbearance and justice is seen in the fact, that he did not avail himself of the opportunity to displace an officer, toward whom he was charged with entertaining such bitter and implacable animosity, when public sentiment would, in all probability, have approved the expediency of that step. But General Beauregard was in no danger of mean resentment from President Davis, who so frequently braved the anger of the public against its distinguished servants. General Beauregard retained the control of the Western army, without interference from the executive, and within a few weeks, by the successful execution of his admirable retreat from Corinth, which he justly declared “equivalent to a brilliant victory,” did much to repair his damaged reputation.[50 - When General Beauregard had eluded Halleck at Corinth, and brought his army to Tupelo, he turned over the command to General Bragg, and sought repose and recuperation at Bladon Springs, Alabama. Those who assume to be the friends and admirers of General Beauregard, but who are far more anxious to establish a mean malignity in the character of Mr. Davis, than to exalt their favorite, have laid great stress upon the fact, that the President then placed Bragg in command of the army for the ensuing campaign, thus placing Beauregard in retirement. There can be little difficulty in comprehending the commendable motives which prompted Mr. Davis to this course. The period of General Beauregard’s absence from his command (three weeks, it is understood) would protract the period of inactivity until midsummer. Time was precious. The Western army had done nothing but lose ground all the current year, and, meanwhile, Lee was preparing his part of the operations, by which the Government hoped to throw the enemy back upon the frontier. Was, then, the Western army to lie idle, awaiting the disposition and convenience of one man? With the approval of the army and the country, the President appointed to the vacated command, an able and devoted soldier, whose reputation and service justified the trust. The writer has seen nothing from General Beauregard approving the assaults of his pretended admirers upon Mr. Davis, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that he does not indorse them.It is also urged that Mr. Davis, when pressed to remove Bragg and replace Beauregard, declared that he would not, though the whole world should unite in the petition. Very likely, and altogether proper that he should not remove an officer while in the actual execution of his plans of campaign. But there can be no better explanation than that given by Mr. Davis: “The President remarked, that so far as giving Beauregard command of Bragg’s army is concerned, that was out of the question. Bragg had arranged all his plans, and had co-intelligence with the Department, with Kirby Smith, and Humphrey Marshall; and to put a new commander at the head of the army would be so prejudicial to the public interests, he would not do it if the whole world united in the petition.”But President Davis never designed that General Beauregard should be without a command. With that just appreciation of the real merits of his generals, apart from the cheap applause or unmerited censure of the crowd, which distinguished most of his selections, he placed General Beauregard in charge of the coast defenses, where his reputation was certainly much enhanced. In this oft-repeated and unfounded charge of “injustice” and “persecution,” in the case of General Joseph E. Johnston, as in that of General Beauregard, there is no specification, more awkwardly sustained, than that which denies the abundant opportunity enjoyed by each of those officers, for the display of the superior genius asserted for them by their admirers. The slightest acquaintance with the history of the war will verify this statement.] So eminent, in its perfection and success, was the retreat of Beauregard with his little army from the front of Halleck, who had more than one hundred thousand men, that a portion of the Northern press admitted that while Shiloh made Grant ridiculous, Corinth made a corpse of Halleck’s military reputation.

As yet there had been no compensating advantage gained by the Confederacy to repair the disasters sustained in the early part of the year. Indeed, the train of reverses had hardly been more than temporarily interrupted, when a calamity hardly less serious than the loss of Tennessee happened in the loss of New Orleans, the largest, most populous, and most wealthy city of the Confederacy. This event was speedily followed by the calamitous results which were to be expected. It was the virtual destruction of Confederate rule in Louisiana. It cut off the available routes to Texas, so inestimable in its importance as a source of grain and cattle; gave the enemy a base of operations against the entire gulf region, and was altogether disheartening to the South.[51 - Much crimination and recrimination followed the fall of New Orleans. It is, at least, safe to say, that public opinion in the South was much divided, as to where the burden of censure for this dire and unexpected calamity should properly rest. The intelligence of the capture of the city was an appalling surprise, not only to the public in Richmond, but to the Government. President Davis declared that the event was totally unexpected by him. The fall of New Orleans was one of those instances, in which the Confederates had decided for them, in a most unsatisfactory manner, the long disputed question as to the efficiency of shore batteries against vessels of war. Precedents established, when sailing vessels were used in warfare, were overthrown by the experience of steam vessels, especially when iron-plated. Commodore Farragut, with perfect success and comparative ease, passed the forts below New Orleans, after the chief of the naval force had despaired of their reduction.]

Some time previous to the fall of New Orleans, which occurred in the latter days of April, the Confederacy had made its most serious effort to dispute the hitherto absolute naval supremacy of the North. On the 8th of March, 1862, occurred the famous naval engagement in Hampton Roads, between the Confederate iron-clad Virginia, and the Federal Monitor. Ever since the summer of 1861, the Navy Department had been preparing, at Gosport Navy-yard, a formidable naval contrivance – a shot-proof, iron-plated steam battery. The result of the experiment was a success, which did much to relieve the Navy Department of undeserved reproach, and to produce a revolution in theories relating to naval science and architecture all over the world.

About this period the activity of the naval forces of the enemy was rewarded by additional successes. The towns of Newborn, Washington, and other places of less note in North Carolina, were captured by naval expeditions in conjunction with detachments from the army of General Burnside. The successes of the Burnside expedition, which had been prepared by the North with such large expectations, were by no means inconsiderable; but they were soon lost sight of in the presence of the more absorbing operations in the interior. The naval resistance of the South had thus far necessarily been feeble. In the subsequent progress of the war, except in rare instances, it disappeared altogether as an element in the calculation of means of defense.

The vulnerability of the South upon the sea-coast, and along the lines of her navigable rivers, measured the extent of the good fortune of the enemy. The North was shortly to yield a reluctant recognition of the comparatively insignificant influence of its long train of triumphs in the promotion of subjugation. Upon the soil of Virginia – classic in its memories of contests for freedom, the chosen battle-ground of the Confederacy – was soon to be shed the effulgence of the proudest achievements of Southern genius and valor – a radiance as splendid as ever shone upon the blazing crest of war.

CHAPTER XIII

THE “ANACONDA SYSTEM” – HOW FAR IT WAS SUCCESSFUL – TERRITORIAL CONFIGURATION OF THE SOUTH FAVORABLE TO THE ENEMY – ONE THEATRE OF WAR FAVORABLE TO THE CONFEDERATES – THE FEDERAL FORCES IN VIRGINIA – THE CONFEDERATE FORCES – THE POTOMAC LINES – CRITICAL SITUATION IN VIRGINIA – EVACUATION OF MANASSAS – TRANSFER OF OPERATIONS TO THE PENINSULA – MAGRUDER’S LINES – EVACUATION OF YORKTOWN – STRENGTH OF THE OPPOSING FORCES BEFORE RICHMOND – DESTRUCTION OF THE “VIRGINIA” – PANIC IN RICHMOND – MR. DAVIS’ CALMNESS AND CONFIDENCE – HE AVOWS HIMSELF “READY TO LEAVE HIS BONES IN THE CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY” – REPULSE OF THE GUNBOATS – “MEMENTOES OF HEROISM” – JACKSON’S VALLEY CAMPAIGN – A SERIES OF VICTORIES, WITH IMPORTANT RESULTS – BATTLE OF “SEVEN PINES” – A FAILURE – GENERAL JOHNSTON WOUNDED – PRESIDENT DAVIS ON THE FIELD – PRESIDENT DAVIS AND GENERAL JOHNSTON – AN ATTEMPT TO FORESTALL THE DECISION OF HISTORY – RESULTS OF LEE’S ACCESSION TO COMMAND – JOHNSTON’S GENERALSHIP – MR. DAVIS’ ESTIMATE OF LEE – LEE’S PLANS – THE ADVISORY RELATION BETWEEN DAVIS AND LEE – THEIR MUTUAL CONFIDENCE NEVER INTERRUPTED – CONFEDERATE STRATEGY AFTER M’CLELLAN’S DEFEAT BEFORE RICHMOND – MAGICAL CHANGE IN THE FORTUNES OF THE CONFEDERACY – THE INVASION OF MARYLAND – ANTIETAM – TANGIBLE PROOFS OF CONFEDERATE SUCCESS – GENERAL BRAGG – HIS KENTUCKY CAMPAIGN – CONFEDERATE HOPES – BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE – BRAGG RETREATS – ESTIMATE OF THE KENTUCKY CAMPAIGN OF 1862 – OTHER INCIDENTS OF THE WESTERN CAMPAIGN – REMOVAL OF M’CLELLAN – A SOUTHERN OPINION OF M’CLELLAN – BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG – BATTLE OF MURFREESBORO’ – BATTLE OF PRAIRIE GROVE – THE SITUATION AT THE CLOSE OF 1862 – PRESIDENT DAVIS’ RECOMMENDATIONS TO CONGRESS – HIS VISIT TO THE SOUTH-WEST – ADDRESS BEFORE THE MISSISSIPPI LEGISLATURE

The Federal Government frankly accepted the true teachings of the war in its earlier stages, and no feature of the lesson was more palpable than the inferiority of the North in the art of war and military administration. No longer trusting, to any extent whatever, to a contest of prowess with an enemy whose incomparable superiority was already established, Mr. Lincoln, his cabinet, and his military advisers, were concurrent in their convictions of the necessity of a policy which should make available the numerical superiority of the North. The “anaconda system” of General Scott, adhered to by General McClellan, and sanctioned by the Government and the people, though by no means new in the theory and practice of war, was based upon a just and sagacious view of the situation.

To overwhelm the South by mere material weight, to crush the smaller body by the momentum of a larger force, comprehends the Federal design of the war, undertaken at the inception of operations in 1862. The success attending the execution of this design we have described in preceding pages. We have accredited to the enemy the full extent of his successes, and endeavored to demonstrate that they resulted not from Confederate maladministration, but from a vigorous and timely use of his advantages and opportunity by the enemy. But while according to the North unexampled energy in preparation, and an unstinted donation of its means to the purpose, which it pursued with indomitable resolution, no concession of an improved military capacity is demanded, from the fact that use was made of obvious advantages not to be overlooked even by the stupidity of an Aulic council.

We have shown that the preponderating influence in the achievement of the enemy’s victories in the winter and spring of 1862, was his naval supremacy. Even at that period it was palpable that, without his navy, his scheme of invasion would be the veriest abortion ever exposed to the ridicule of mankind. The maritime facilities of the enemy were, in the end, decisive of the contest in his favor.

Upon those fields of military operations which have thus far occupied our attention, we have seen how propitious to the enemy’s plans, in every instance, was the geographical configuration. Wherever a navigable river emptied into the sea, which was the undisputed domain of the North, or intersected its territory, a short and, in many instances, almost bloodless struggle had ended in the expulsion or capture of the Confederates defending its passage. Yet, in many instances, these results had a most serious bearing upon the decision of the war. It was impossible for Sidney Johnston to hold Kentucky and Tennessee unless the Mississippi, running parallel with his communications, and the Cumberland and Tennessee, running in their rear, should remain sealed to the enemy. It was equally impracticable to hold the region bordering upon the North Carolina sounds after the fall of Roanoke Island. After the fall of New Orleans, the entire avenue of the Mississippi, except the limited section between Vicksburg and Port Hudson, was open to the enemy, giving him bases of operations upon both its banks, and opening to his ravages vast sections of the Confederacy.

Thus had the naval supremacy of the enemy brought him, in a few days, to the very heart of extensive sections of territory, which never could have been reduced to his sway, had he been compelled to fight his way overland from his frontiers. Thus was the great element of space, usually so potent in the defense of an invaded people, annihilated, almost before the struggle had been fairly begun.

The upper regions of Eastern Virginia, remote from the navigable tributaries of the Atlantic and the larger rivers, was the only theatre of war, where the superior valor and skill of the Confederates could claim success from the Federal hosts, deprived of their gunboats and water communications. Here, though not entirely neutralized, his water facilities did not at all times avail the enemy; here the struggle was more equal, and here was demonstrated that superior manhood and soldiership of the South, which, not even an enemy, if candid, will deny.

Of the seven hundred thousand men, which were claimed as under arms for the preservation of the Union, in the beginning of 1862, it is reasonably certain that more than a half million were actually in the field, and of these at least one-half, were operating in Virginia, with Richmond as the common goal of their eager and expectant gaze. The army of McClellan, numbering little less than two hundred thousand men, in the vicinity of Washington, was entitled to the lavish praise, which he bestowed upon it, in his declaration, that it was “magnificent in material, admirable in discipline and instruction, excellently equipped and armed.” In the valley of the Shenandoah was the army of Banks, more than fifteen thousand strong. General Fremont, with about the same force, commanded the “Mountain Department,” embracing the highland region of Western Virginia. By the first of March these various commands, with other detachments, had reached an aggregate of quite two hundred and fifty thousand men.

We have sufficiently described those causes, by which the already disproportionate strength of the Confederates, previous to the adoption of the conscription act, and the inception of the more vigorous and stringent military policy of the Confederate Government, was reduced to a condition in most alarming contrast with the enormous preparations of the enemy.

General Joseph E. Johnston still held his position, with a force which, on the first of March, barely exceeded forty thousand men. The command of General Stonewall Jackson, in the Shenandoah Valley, did not exceed thirty-five hundred, embracing all arms. General Magruder held the Peninsula of York and James Rivers, covering the approaches to Richmond in that direction, with eleven thousand men, and General Huger had at Norfolk and in the vicinity not more than ten thousand. The Confederate force in Western Virginia was altogether too feeble for successful defense, and indeed, the Government had some months previous abandoned the hope of a permanent occupation of that region.

The Confederate authorities had long since ceased to cherish hope of offensive movements upon the line of the Potomac. Circumstances imposed a defensive attitude, attended with many causes of peculiar apprehension for the fate of the issue in Virginia. Weeks of critical suspense, and vigilant observation of the threatening movements of the Federal forces, were followed by the transfer of the principal scene of operations to the Peninsula.

The evacuation of the position so long held by General Johnston at Manassas, executed with many evidences of skill, but attended with much destruction of valuable material, was followed immediately by an advance of General McClellan to that place. The necessity of a retirement by General Johnston to an interior line had been duly appreciated by the Confederate Government, though there were circumstances attending the immediate execution of the movement, which detracted from its otherwise complete success. The destruction of valuable material, including an extensive meat-curing establishment, containing large supplies of meat, and established by the Government, which ensued upon the evacuation of Manassas, elicited much exasperated censure. Similar occurrences at the evacuation of Yorktown, a few weeks later, revived a most unpleasant recollection of scenes incident to the retreat from Manassas. The extravagant destruction of property, in many instances apparently reckless and wanton, marking the movements of the Confederate armies at this period, was a bitter sarcasm upon the practice, by many of its prominent officers, of that economy of resources which the necessities of the Confederacy so imperatively demanded.

Not only the weakness of his forces indicated to General Johnston the perils of his position, but the territorial configuration again came to the aid of the enemy, and gave to General McClellan the option of several avenues to the rear of the Confederate army. It is not improbable that McClellan appreciated the extremity of Johnston’s situation, and has, indeed, assigned other reasons for his advance upon Manassas than the expectation of an engagement, where the chances would have been overwhelmingly in his favor. At all events, the retirement of General Johnston to the line of the Rapidan, imposed upon the Federal general an immediate choice of a base from which to assail the Confederate capital. Originally opposed to an overland movement via Manassas, McClellan was now compelled to abandon his favorite plan of a movement from Urbanna, on the Rappahanock, by which he hoped to cut off the Confederate retreat to Richmond, in consequence of Johnston’s retirement behind the Rappahanock. General McClellan promptly adopted the movement to the peninsula, a plan which he had previously considered, but which he regarded “as less brilliant and less promising decisive results.”[52 - These revelations of the designs of McClellan are derived from the admirable work of Mr. Swinton – the “History of the Army of the Potomac” – perhaps the ablest and most impartial contribution yet made to the history of the late war.It is noteworthy that General Grant attempted nearly the same approach to Richmond and was signally foiled – a fact which he promptly recognized, by his change of plan, after his bloody repulse at Cold Harbor, June 3, 1864.]

When General Johnston left Manassas, it is probable that he was not fully decided as to the position which he should select. Receiving a dispatch[53 - This dispatch was in substance: “Halt the army where it is.”] from President Davis, he halted the army, and immediately the President left Richmond for Johnston’s head-quarters, for the purpose of consultation. General Johnston’s position now was simply observatory of the enemy. It was yet possible that McClellan might undertake an overland movement; and, indeed, a portion of his force had followed the retreating Confederates. In that event Johnston would occupy the line upon which Lee subsequently foiled so many formidable Federal demonstrations. From his central position he could also promptly meet a serious demonstration against Richmond from the Chesapeake waters or the Shenandoah Valley. When the numerous transports at Fortress Monroe, debarking troops for the peninsula, revealed the enemy’s real purpose, the army of General Johnston was carried to the lines of Magruder, at Yorktown. Johnston was, however, decidedly opposed to the movement to the Peninsula, declaring it untenable, and urging views as to the requirements of the situation, which competent criticism has repeatedly commended.

While the transfer of Johnston’s army to the Peninsula was in process of execution, the situation in Virginia was, in the highest degree, critical. The strength of Magruder was necessarily so divided, that the actual force, defending the line threatened by McClellan with eighty thousand men, was less than six thousand Confederates. Meanwhile the various Federal detachments in other quarters were coöperating with the main movement of McClellan. Banks and Shields were expected, by their overwhelming numbers, to crush Jackson in the Shenandoah Valley, and then, forming a junction with the large force of Fremont, who was required to capture Staunton, it was designed that these combined forces should unite with the army of McDowell, advancing from the direction of Fredericksburg, at some point east of the Blue Ridge. Thus a force, aggregating more than seventy thousand men, threatening Richmond from the north, was to unite with McClellan advancing from the east. Such was, in brief, the Federal plan of campaign, which the North expected to accomplish the reduction of Richmond and the total destruction of the Confederate power in Virginia. It does not devolve upon us to discuss, in detail, the defects of this faulty combination, but the sequel will show how promptly and triumphantly the Confederate leaders availed themselves of the opportunity presented by this crude arrangement of their adversaries.

Happily the bold attitude and skillful dispositions of Magruder were aided by the over-tentative action of his antagonist. The latter, greatly exaggerating the force in his front, and convinced of the hopelessness of an assault upon the Confederate works, permitted the escape of the golden moment, and prepared for a regular siege of Yorktown. In the meantime General Magruder describes his situation to have been as follows: “Through the energetic action of the Government, reënforcements began to pour in, and each hour the Army of the Peninsula grew stronger and stronger, until anxiety passed from my mind as to the result of an attack upon us.”

The untenability of the Peninsula was very soon made apparent, and the important advantage of time having been gained, and the escape of General Huger’s command from its precarious position at Norfolk secured, General Johnston abandoned the works at Yorktown, retreating to the line of the Chickahominy, near Richmond. This movement was made in obedience to the necessities of the situation, and was in accordance with his original desire for a decisive engagement with McClellan, at an interior point, where a concentration of the Confederate forces would be more practicable. General McClellan did not pursue the retreating column with much energy after the decisive blow given his advance at Williamsburg, by Longstreet.

With the arrival of Johnston upon the Richmond lines, the Confederate Government began, with energy and rapidity, the concentration of its forces. The superb command of Huger was promptly transferred to Johnston, and troops from the Carolinas were thrown forward to Richmond as rapidly as transportation facilities would permit. By the last of May the Confederate forces in front of Richmond reached an aggregate of seventy-five thousand men. McClellan had sustained losses on the Peninsula which reduced his strength to the neighborhood of one hundred and twenty thousand.

A cruel necessity of the evacuation of Norfolk and Portsmouth was the destruction of the Confederate iron-clad “Virginia,” which had so long prevented the ascent of James River by the Federal gunboats. So invaluable was this vessel in the defense of Richmond, that McClellan had named, as an essential condition of a successful campaign on the Peninsula, that she should be “neutralized.” It was found impossible to convey the Virginia to a point unoccupied on either shore of the river by the enemy’s forces, and, by order of her commander, the vessel was destroyed. Immediately a fleet ascended the river for the purpose of opening the water highway to the Confederate capital.

The intelligence of the destruction of the “Virginia,” and the advance of the Federal fleet, was received, in Richmond, with profound consternation. No one, unless at that time in Richmond, can realize the sense of extreme peril experienced by the public. There were few who dared indulge the hope of a successful defense of the city against the dreaded “gunboats” and “monitors” of the enemy, which, the people then believed, were alike invulnerable and irresistible.

The wise precautionary measures of the Government, in preparing its archives for removal, in case of emergency, to a point of safety, greatly increased the panic of the public. Rumors of a precipitate evacuation of the city, by the Confederate authorities, were circulated, and there was wanting no possible element which could aggravate the public alarm, save the calm demeanor of President Davis, and the deliberate efforts of the authorities – Confederate, State, and municipal – to assure the safety of the city. The courage and confidence of the President, in the midst of this almost universal alarm, in which many officers of the Government participated, quickly aroused an enthusiastic and determined spirit in the hearts of a brave people. Knowing the critical nature of the emergency, he was nevertheless resolved to exhaust every expedient in the defense of Richmond, and then to abide the issue. His noble and defiant declaration was: “I am ready and willing to leave my bones in the capital of the Confederacy.” In response to resolutions from the Virginia Legislature, urging the defense of the city to the last extremity, he avowed his predetermined resolution to hold Richmond until driven out by the enemy, and animated his hearers by an assurance of his conviction, that, even in that contingency, “the war could be successfully maintained, upon Virginia soil, for twenty years.”[54 - The incidents of this trying period, when Richmond was doubly threatened by the hosts of McClellan, and the gunboats in the river, are “mementoes of heroism,” proudly illustrating the unconquerable spirit of that devoted city and its rulers. We give the resolution passed by the Legislature on the occasion referred to – May 14, 1862:“Resolved by the General Assembly, That this General Assembly expresses its desire that the capital of the State be defended to the last extremity, if such defense is in accordance with the views of the President of the Confederate States; and that the President be assured, that whatever destruction or loss of property, of the State, or individuals shall hereby result, will be cheerfully submitted to.”Two days after, at a public meeting of the citizens of Richmond, Governor Letcher said, that under no circumstances would he approve the surrender of the city, and avowed his readiness to endure bombardment, if necessary. In the same stout spirit spoke Mayor Mayo:“I say now – and I will abide by it – when the citizens of Richmond demand of me to surrender the capital of Virginia, and of the Confederacy, to the enemy, they must find some other man to fill my place. I will resign the mayoralty. And when that other man elected in my stead shall deliver up the city, I hope I may have physical courage and strength enough left to shoulder a musket and go into the ranks.”]

The accounts of the enemy were required to demonstrate to the citizens of Richmond, that, by the obstructions in the channel of the river, and the erection of the impregnable batteries at Drewry’s Bluff, their homes were again secured from the presence of the invaders. The significance of that brief engagement, during which the guns were distinctly audible in Richmond, was very soon made evident in the loss of their terrors by the Federal gunboats. President Davis was a spectator of the engagement, by which the Confederate capital was rescued from imminent peril of capture.

But the repulse of the gunboats in James River, with its assuring and significant incidents, was the precursor of far more brilliant successes, which, it was evident, would largely affect the decision of the general issue in Virginia. In the months of May and June, 1862, was enacted the memorable “Valley campaign” of Stonewall Jackson – a campaign which, never excelled, has no parallel in brilliant and accurate conception, celerity, and perfection of execution, save the Italian campaign of Napoleon in 1796. General Jackson’s exploits in the Valley of the Shenandoah present an aggregate of military achievements unrivaled by any record in American history.

On the 23d of March, Jackson fought the battle of Kernstown, near Winchester, with three thousand Virginians against eighteen full Federal regiments, sustaining, throughout an entire day, an audacious assault upon Shields’ force, and at dark leisurely retiring with his command, after having inflicted upon the enemy a loss nearly equal to his own strength. Elsewhere has been mentioned the effort made to induce President Davis to remove Jackson, in compliance with the popular dissatisfaction at his failure to achieve, against such overwhelming odds, more palpable fruits of victory. The immediate consequence of Kernstown was the check of Banks’ advance in the Valley, and the recall of a large force, then on the way from Banks to aid McClellan’s designs against Johnston.

Leaving General Ewell, whose division had been detached from Johnston, to intercept any demonstration by Banks in the Valley, or across the Blue Ridge, Jackson united his command with that of General Edward Johnson, a full brigade, and defeating the advance of Fremont, under Milroy, at McDowell, compelled a disorderly retreat by Fremont through the mountains of Western Virginia. Returning to the Valley, he assaulted, with his united force, the column of Banks, annihilated an entire division of the enemy, pursued its fugitive remnants to the Potomac, and threatened the safety of the Federal capital. Alarmed for Washington, Mr. Lincoln halted McDowell in his plans of coöperation with McClellan, and for weeks the efforts of the Federal Government were addressed to the paramount purpose of “catching Jackson.” Eluding the enemy’s combinations, Jackson turned upon his pursuers, again defeated Fremont at Cross Keys, and immediately crossing the Shenandoah, secured his rear, and destroyed the advance of Shields within sight of its powerless confederate. Resuming the retreat, Jackson paused at Weyer’s Cave, and awaited the summons of his superiors to enact his thrilling rôle in the absorbing drama at Richmond. Within the short period of seventy days, Jackson achieved at Kernstown, McDowell’s, Front Royal, Winchester, Strasburg, Harrisonburg, Cross Keys, and Port Republic, eight tactical victories, besides innumerable successful combats. But he had done more. He had wrought the incomparable strategic achievement of neutralizing sixty thousand men with fifteen thousand; he had recalled McDowell, when, with outstretched arm, McClellan had already planted his right wing, under Porter, at Hanover Court-house, to receive the advance of the coöperating column from Fredericksburg.

Meanwhile the lines of Richmond had been the scene of no incident of special interest until the battle of “Seven Pines,” on the 31st of May. After his arrival upon the Chickahominy, McClellan had been steadily fortifying his lines, and wherever an advance was practicable, preparing approaches to Richmond. His line, extending over a space of several miles, was accurately described by the course of the Chickahominy, from the village of Mechanicsville, five miles north of Richmond, to a point about four miles from the city, in an easterly direction. Having partially executed his design of bridging the Chickahominy, McClellan had crossed that stream, and in the last days of May, his left wing was fortified near the locality designated the “Seven Pines.” This initiative demonstration by McClellan, which placed his army astride a variable stream, was sufficiently provocative of the enterprise of his antagonist. To increase the peril of the isolated wing of the Federal army, a thunder-storm, occurring on the night of the 29th of May, had so swollen the Chickahominy as to render difficult the accession of reënforcements from the main body.

Such was the situation which invited the Confederate commander to undertake the destruction of the exposed column of his adversary – a movement which, if successful, might have resulted in the rout of the entire left wing of the enemy, opening a way to his rear, and securing his utter overthrow. Seven Pines was an action, in which the color of victory was entirely with the Confederates, but it was the least fruitful engagement fought by the two armies in Virginia. There was no engagement of the war in which the valor of the Confederate soldier was more splendidly illustrated, though happily that quality then did not require so conspicuous a test. However able in design, it was in execution a signal failure – a series of loose, indefinite and disjointed movements, wanting in coöperation, and apparently in able executive management.

President Davis, in company with General Lee, was present during most of the engagement. Frequently under fire, and in consultation with his generals in exposed positions, he was conspicuous chiefly by his efforts to animate the troops, and his presence was greeted with evidences of the enthusiasm and confidence which it inspired.

The battle of “Seven Pines,” in itself barren of influence upon the decision of the campaign, was nevertheless attended by an incident – the painful and disabling wound received by General Johnston, in all probability decisive of the future history of the Army of Northern Virginia. Leading to an immediate and positive change of policy, it is hardly a bold declaration that this incident determined the future of the war in Virginia.

A disposition has been freely indulged to influence the sentence of history, by placing President Davis and General Johnston in a sort of antithetical juxtaposition, as exponents of different theories as to the proper conduct of the war by the South. In view of the failure of the Confederacy, it has been ingeniously contended that the result vindicated the wisdom of General Johnston’s views. But besides its evident unfairness to Mr. Davis, no criticism could be founded less upon the intrinsic merits of the case. Overzealous and intemperate partisans generally evince aptitude in the exaggeration of minor differences between the leaders, whose interests they profess to have at heart. Such results are not unfrequent in the lives of eminent public men. In the case of General Beauregard, the unhappy effects of officious intermeddling and misrepresentation, from such sources, between the President and that distinguished officer, are especially notable.