Jefferson Davis, American

by William J. Cooper

  For Jefferson Davis and his government the immediate response to Fort Sumter confirmed the rightness of their decision. The thrill of action and triumph rushed through the Confederacy. In the Upper South, where secession had been stymied, reconsideration proceeded promptly. Davis sent envoys to each state urging them to join the Confederacy. When Lincoln now called for 75,000 volunteers to put down what he defined as a rebellion, the Upper South turned toward the Confederate States of America. Over the rest of April and in May, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, and Arkansas seceded and bound their futures to the Confederacy. In the border states of Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri, secession was stalled but uncertainty prevailed. Kentucky even proclaimed neutrality between the United States and the Confederate States. The war Jefferson Davis had both long feared and anticipated was at hand. He had spoken of its costing “thousands of lives and millions of treasure.” But even with his foreboding he could not foresee the destruction that lay ahead.34

  With Abraham Lincoln’s call for troops to put down what he termed a rebellion, and his announcement of a blockade of the coast of the rebellious states, it was clear to Jefferson Davis and his cabinet that the firing on Fort Sumter had signaled the end of the first phase of their revolution and the start of an even more perilous period. Judah Benjamin informed a friend that the Confederate leadership considered Lincoln’s proclamation “an unmistakable declaration of war.”35

  Confronting the onset of war, Jefferson Davis acted vigorously. He led the call for additional volunteers to man the Confederate Army, whose numbers were rapidly increasing. On April 17 Davis invited applications for letters of marque, which would legalize Confederate privateers to prey on northern shipping. He also summoned the Provisional Congress back to Montgomery for a special session to begin on April 29.

  In his message to the assembled lawmakers, Davis acknowledged that hostilities had begun and insisted that war had been forced upon the Confederacy. He had convened Congress so that it could “devise the measures necessary for the defense of the country.” He then engaged in a lengthy recounting of the sectional conflict, focusing on his interpretation of northern aggression and the justification for secession. But secession did not mean the Confederacy wanted war. He reminded Congress that he had sent a commission to Washington in pursuit of peace. After receiving assurances that the Union also desired peace, he and the commissioners were surprised when Lincoln would not negotiate. Davis did not believe the Confederates had been treated fairly: “The crooked paths of diplomacy can scarcely furnish an example so wanting in courtesy, in candor, and directness as was the course of the United States Government toward our commission in Washington.” Still, hoping to avert bloodshed, Davis reported that he had offered the commander at Fort Sumter an opportunity to avoid armed conflict, but was refused.

  The president expressed confidence in his country and his countrymen. After detailing the responsibilities of the different departments of government, Davis proudly recited “that in every portion of our country there has been exhibited the most patriotic devotion to our common cause.” He made absolutely clear his own sense of the moment: “We feel that our cause is just and holy; we protest solemnly in the face of mankind that we desire peace at any sacrifice save that of honor and independence; we seek no conquest, no aggrandizement, no concession of any kind from the States with which we were lately confederated; all we ask is to be let alone; that those who never held power over us shall not now attempt our subjugation by arms. This we will, this we must, resist to the direst extremity.” And he predicted the Confederacy would prevail because “a people … united and resolved cannot shrink from any sacrifice which they may be called on to make … however long and severe may be the test of their determination to maintain their birthright of freedom and equality as a trust which it is their first duty to transmit undiminished to their posterity.”36

  With the advent of war, Davis wished to participate in it directly in some way. Although some advisers urged him to lead Confederate forces in the field to defeat the northern invaders, he decided against exercising his responsibilities as constitutional commander in chief in that capacity. But he did reveal his determination to appear personally at threatened points and with his soldiers. After the opening of rail connections between Montgomery and Pensacola, Davis decided to visit Pensacola himself. Accompanied by his wife and Secretary Mallory, he left on May 14 for the nine-hour train ride. In Pensacola he conferred with his commander, Brigadier General Braxton Bragg, and along with Bragg and the general’s staff, he reviewed troops drawn up on a white sandy beach. As the reviewers galloped along the line, “the wildest huzzas” greeted them. After spending one night, Davis and his party departed.37

  Back in Montgomery on May 15, the president contemplated changing his residence and his capital. To Confederates the most important state was Virginia, “mother of the South,” primary force in the Revolution, home of heroes like Washington and Jefferson. Without Virginia many Confederates believed their country incomplete. In the aftermath of Fort Sumter, Davis had dispatched emissaries to the unse-ceded slave states urging their alignment with the Confederacy. To Richmond he had sent Alexander Stephens, and the vice president had labored there effectively. On April 17 Virginia seceded; on the twenty-seventh the Virginia convention offered Richmond as the national capital; on May 7, Virginia officially joined the Confederate States of America. As Virginia and the Confederacy became one, Jefferson Davis was elated.

  The decision to accept Virginia’s invitation and move the capital was a quite logical one, and not only because of the state’s historic primacy. The accession of Virginia moved the border of the Confederacy all the way to the gates of Washington. The initial armed clash between the two sides would likely take place in northern Virginia. Further, Richmond was the most important industrial center in the new nation, and included the greatest iron-making facilities in the South. This industrial might demanded protection. Thus, the 100 miles between Washington and Richmond became the most priceless real estate in the Confederacy. Moreover, the limitations of Montgomery’s size and resources were becoming more and more apparent. On May 20, Congress passed a resolution to move the government, which Davis readily signed. The next day Congress adjourned, and officials began the preparations for transferring a government.

  On the evening of May 26, President Davis, accompanied by Secretary Toombs and three others, departed quietly by train for the new capital. Despite efforts to keep the journey low-key, at stops along the way crowds approached the train calling for the president. Davis always appeared and often made a few remarks. During the evening meal at his hotel in Goldsboro, North Carolina, Davis’s table was “thronged with beautiful girls, and many were bedecking him with garlands of flowers, while others fanned him.” On May 29 at 8 a.m. the presidential train reached Petersburg, Virginia, where Governor John L. Letcher and the mayor of Richmond met it. According to a reporter who had been on the train, the trip had been “one continuous ovation.” Escorted by governor and mayor, Davis and his party covered the final twenty miles into Richmond, which would be Davis’s home for the next four years.38

  The hilly city at the falls of the historic James River stretched east to west along its banks for more than two miles and pushed northward. A visitor to Richmond, the great English writer Charles Dickens, described the town as “delightfully situated on eight hills, overhanging James River; a sparkling stream, studded here and there with bright islands or brawling over broken rocks.” The capital of Virginia since 1780, Richmond by 1860 had become the twenty-fifth-largest city in the United States, with a population approaching 40,000. Just over a third of the inhabitants were black, four-fifths slave and one-fifth free. They were quite visible on the streets and at myriad tasks. Only New Orleans exceeded Richmond’s thriving slave market, from which thousands of bondspeople began their trek to the Deep South. The city had also become a manufacturing center, with manufactured products valued at thirteenth among all cities in the ol
d Union. Richmond boasted the largest flour mill in the world and the Tredegar Iron Works, the second-largest foundry in the world. Its tobacco market outranked all others. Steamboats plying the James, and railroads reaching north to the Potomac, down the Atlantic coast, and into the heart of the Deep South, made it a transportation hub. And above the industrial and mercantile enterprises along the river impressive homes, churches, and public buildings adorned the high ground. Crowning a high hill was the Capitol, a Roman temple designed by Thomas Jefferson.39

  At the depot a great crowd awaited the president; cannon announced his arrival. In an open carriage drawn by four horses, Davis, with Governor Letcher and the mayor, moved through the cheering populace to the Spotswood Hotel, his temporary home. No formal parade or ceremony was held because Davis wanted none. Despite his fatigue when he reached the hotel, he spoke for ten minutes. He identified Virginia as “the mother of the South in this act”; her cradle had rocked Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and many others. According to Davis, those sons of Virginia had provided a model government that had been perverted. Now the Confederacy would save their legacy. After some rest, the president on horseback rode at five-thirty in the afternoon to an assembly area for troops, where the men in uniform gave their commander in chief a reception “enthusiastic in the extreme.” Back at the Spotswood, several thousand cheering citizens called for the president. At 9:30 p.m. he spoke briefly, emphasizing the themes of his earlier remarks; then he retired. The next day President Davis held a public reception at the Governor’s Mansion, the women at 11 a.m. and the men at noon. Several thousand appeared. “No formal introductions or courtly display” marked this affair. An approving reporter noted, “The bearing of the President and manner of reception were dignified and simple, so that the humblest as well as the highest felt at ease.”40

  Davis’s family followed him immediately by train. On the morning of June 1 Davis met Varina and the children, and a large crowd gathered to cheer the first family. Between the station and the hotel many floral bouquets were thrown into the Davis carriage. When one little girl’s bouquet fell short, the president ordered the carriage stopped and the flowers picked up and handed to him, whereupon he gave them to Varina. According to an eyewitness, this “simple, unaffected” act “created a spontaneous burst of applause from the people.”41

  That evening citizens congregated in front of the Spotswood to serenade the chief executive and his family. Davis responded from a window. His brief words echoed what he had been saying about the Confederacy since his arrival in Montgomery. Confederates fought for their birthright for which their fathers had bled in the Revolution: “the richest inheritance that ever fell to man, and which it is our sacred duty to transmit untarnished to our children.” To secure this inheritance, Davis was sure “there is not one true son of the South who is not ready to shoulder his musket to bleed, to die or to conquer in the cause of liberty here.”42

  Although Davis was surely pleased to have his family with him, he focused his attention on moving Confederate forces northward, to the Virginia side of the Potomac River. The Federals, who had already occupied Arlington and Alexandria, directly across the river from Washington, were concentrating, and talk abounded of an imminent advance. Even before he reached Richmond, Davis kept himself informed about the military situation in Virginia through communication with Robert E. Lee, who had been commanding Virginia state troops and whom Davis named Confederate commander in the state. The president ordered General Beauregard to proceed to Virginia and take charge of the army facing Washington. He also directed another new Confederate general, Joseph E. Johnston, a native Virginian and career officer, to take control at Harpers Ferry, the strategic spot at the foot of the Shenandoah Valley where the Shenandoah River flowed into the Potomac.43

  In addition to appointing and placing generals, Davis worked energetically to get fighting men positioned on his northeastern frontier. To the Virginia front he directed units from many states, including those as far away as the Mississippi Valley. In getting troops to Virginia, Davis had to contend with two problems that would last as long as the Confederacy, the views of governors and the desire for local defense. As in the United States, raising an army in the Confederacy involved both the central government and the individual states. Congress authorized volunteers and set their term of enlistment; the president called for them; and the governors raised regiments. At the outset governors were eager to cooperate, and impressive numbers of men came forward. But at the same time governors wanted considerable influence on critical matters: the organization of volunteers, the appointment of officers, the disposition of weapons seized from Federal arsenals, and even the deployment of units. President Davis as well as Secretary Walker continuously strove to explain to governors what they already knew, that statutes passed by Congress governed both the types of units acceptable for Confederate service and the appointment of officers once organizations came under Confederate authority. Moreover, the Constitution specified the president as commander in chief. Davis also told state leaders the crisis required units to leave their native states to defend against the impending invasion of Virginia. Most governors eventually agreed and materially aided the president, though the effort to negotiate over a multitude of issues and gain that cooperation required much of Davis’s time.44

  One state chief executive proved particularly troublesome: Joseph E. Brown of Georgia. An ardent secessionist, Brown initially praised Davis. Even though he had never met the Mississippian, Brown considered Davis an excellent choice for president, “as his wisdom and statesmanship are known to all to be of the most profound and highest order.” But Brown’s actions quickly belied those words. Extraordinarily jealous of his gubernatorial prerogatives, and often declaring the requirements of his state more important than those of his new country, Brown demonstrated an amazing capacity for tenacious obstructionism and perverse obstinacy. He stalled the transfer of former Federal arsenals and forts to the Confederacy, and in the interval shifted the best weapons to his own armory. He tried to forbid regiments to join the Confederate army, and if they did so, he insisted that all state-owned arms must remain in Georgia. He wanted more troops for coastal defense, even though there was no immediate threat to his coast, and fought at every step sending units to Virginia. Davis and Walker both exerted themselves to work with the pettifogging Brown, often giving in for the sake of harmony. With Joseph Brown, Davis learned quickly that selfless commitment to the Confederate cause did not extend to all public officials. Although he did not upbraid or denounce Brown, he did not dispute Howell Cobb’s description of Brown as “the miserable demagogue who now disgraces the executive chair of Ga.”45

  At the same time Davis treated with governors, he maintained constant communications with his two field commanders, Beauregard and Johnston. The president was an active, involved commander in chief. Whether he wrote directly or through Secretary Walker, General Lee, or General Samuel Cooper, formerly the adjutant and inspector general of the U.S. Army whom Davis had placed in that same role in the Confederate army, the president made suggestions and issued directives. Adopting the policy he would follow throughout the war, he told Johnston he wanted him to hold Harpers Ferry as long as possible, but as the commander on the scene Johnston must use his own discretion. To both generals he sent word that he was forwarding reinforcements as rapidly as possible.46

  Davis did not have easy decisions to make. Both Beauregard and Johnston faced greater numbers, and each general pleaded for additional troops. Beauregard also urged Davis to give up the Shenandoah Valley and send Johnston to join him so that the combined Confederate armies could move against the Federals. While Davis liked the prospect of forward movement, he thought it far too premature to give up the Valley, critical politically and logistically. Responding, he told Beauregard to await the new troops he hoped would make an offensive possible.

  In mid-July a restless Beauregard sent an aide to Richmond to present a more ambitious, even grandiose,
plan. In it he again wanted Johnston to unite with him, and after they dispatched the enemy in his front, the combined armies would head west and defeat the Federals in the Valley. Thereupon Johnston would march into mountainous western Virginia and whip the Union forces coming eastward from the Ohio River. Then the victorious Confederates would reunite and threaten Washington. Although this design seemed logical, even flawless, on paper, it had little connection with reality—Johnston had barely half the 20,000 men Beauregard awarded him; Confederate success would depend upon utterly stationary Federals. Logistics did not intrude in this fanciful stratagem: the Confederacy possessed neither the transportation nor the supplies to support such complex movements.

  Davis gave Beauregard’s impossible design more attention than it merited. He permitted Beauregard’s aide to present it to Lee, Cooper, and himself at a conference in Richmond. The deliberations indicated that the president and Lee had been discussing strategy and that they had agreed on the appropriate course for their armies. Lee responded, with Davis’s assent clearly signaling his agreement. Gently noting the incredible complications in the proposal, Lee pointed out the enormous difficulties involved. Then he added that before any Confederate combination could succeed, the Federals would have to be drawn farther into Virginia. Attacked prematurely, the Federal hosts would simply fall back behind their impregnable defensive lines. The Beauregard-Johnston union would have to await the proper moment.