POPULAR DELUSIONS IN THE EARLY STAGES OF THE WAR—A FEW CONFLICTS AND SACRIFICES NOT SUFFICIENT—MORE POSITIVE RECOGNITION OF MR. DAVIS’ VIEWS—HIS CANDID AND PROPHETIC ANNOUNCEMENTS—MILITARY REFORMS—CONSCRIPTION LAW OF THE CONFEDERACY—THE PRESIDENT’S VIEWS AND COURSE AS TO THIS LAW—HIS CONSISTENT REGARD FOR CIVIL LIBERTY AND OPPOSITION TO CENTRALIZATION—RECOMMENDS CONSCRIPTION—BENEFICIAL RESULTS OF THE LAW—GENERAL LEE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, “UNDER THE PRESIDENT”—NATURE OF THE APPOINTMENT—FALSE IMPRESSIONS CORRECTED—MR. DAVIS’ CONFIDENCE IN LEE, DESPITE POPULAR CENSURE OF THE LATTER—CHANGES IN THE CABINET—MR. BENJAMIN’S MANAGEMENT OF THE WAR OFFICE—DIFFICULTIES OF THAT POSITION—THE CHARGE OF FAVORITISM AGAINST MR. DAVIS IN THE SELECTION OF HIS CABINET—HIS PERSONAL RELATIONS WITH THE VARIOUS MEMBERS OF HIS CABINET—ACTIVITY IN MILITARY OPERATIONS—THE TRANS-MISSISSIPPI—BATTLE OF ELK HORN—OPERATIONS EAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI—GENERALS SIDNEY JOHNSTON AND BEAUREGARD—ISLAND NO. 10—CONCENTRATION OF TROOPS BY THE CONFEDERATE AUTHORITIES—FAVORABLE SITUATION—SHILOH—A DISAPPOINTMENT—DEATH OF SIDNEY JOHNSTON—TRIBUTE OF PRESIDENT DAVIS—POPULAR VERDICT UPON THE BATTLE OF SHILOH—GENERALS BEAUREGARD, BRAGG, AND POLK ON THE BATTLE—THE PRESIDENT AGAIN CHARGED WITH “INJUSTICE” TO BEAUREGARD—THE CHARGE ANSWERED—FALL OF NEW ORLEANS—NAVAL BATTLE IN HAMPTON ROADS—NAVAL SUCCESSES OF THE ENEMY.

We have briefly indicated the causes which now elevated the Southern people to a more intelligent appreciation of the nature and necessities of the struggle in which they were engaged. There was reason for the congratulation which President Davis experienced at the unmistakable evidences of the awakening of the public mind to the stern duties which, from the beginning, he had sedulously inculcated.The progress of the war had already developed the existence of numerous errors upon both sides, and had exploded many cherished theories having possession of the popular mind of each section, with reference to the power, resources, and spirit of its antagonist. Both parties had entered into the contest with the firm conviction of certain triumph, and with the purpose to make the struggle as short as possible. The war-cry of the North was “Let it be short, sharp, and decisive;” and they appealed to their numbers, wealth, and sectional hatred, as elements of superiority, which would inevitably end the war in their favor in a few months. The South was equally disposed to a speedy conclusion. With the masses of the South and the majority of their advisers, the predominant idea and aspiration was to teach the enemy, by prompt and heavy blows, the impossibility of successful invasion, and thus shorten the period of bloodshed. Thus both, from a necessity which neither was able to avoid, began with gigantic preparations, hoping, by a few mighty conflicts of arms, and one lavish sacrifice of life and treasure, to bring to prompt arbitrament an issue which was the growth of a century.

But the aroused spirit of sectional strife was not to be appeased by a single holocaust. The American people, a youthful giant, totally uneducated in the experience of war, having never yet tested their strength and dimensions, would not consent that the game of empire should be decided by a single dramatic denouement, a Waterloo, a Solferino, or Sadowa. Manassas had been the bitter but beneficent chastisement of the North, and the reproof was accepted with that wonderful elasticity, which afterwards amazed the world with its manifestations after the most disheartening failures. A rebuke no less signal waited upon the South, and its correcting influence immediately exhibited a temper which was the temporary salvation of the Confederacy, and the inspiration to a series of campaigns among the most memorable in the annals of warfare.

With the inauguration of the permanent government came not only renewed resolution in the prosecution of the war, but a more positive recognition and adoption of the views of President Davis. We have elsewhere described the antagonism between those views and the theory of the leaders at Montgomery, shared by the press and people of the South, which derided any other hypothesis than a six-months’ war, with the certainty of independence. Whatever weight may be accredited to the statements which we have made in demonstration of Mr. Davis’ conviction, that the war would be one of unexampled magnitude and long duration; whatever may be the rational inference from his opposition to a military system contemplating a war lasting six or twelve months; whatever the credence extended to his own subsequent declarations of the difficulties preventing the complete preparation for the emergency, which he contemplated,[44] at least there was no room for misconception of his expectations as to the war in its future stages.

Congratulating the Confederate Congress upon the auspicious awakening of the popular mind from dangerous delusions, even through the hard experience of adversity, he admonishes Congress and the country to prepare for a “war lasting through a term of years.” But a few weeks later and he invited the Legislature of Virginia to contemplate a possible duration of the war for twenty years upon the soil of that State. In all his declarations, public and private, was evidenced the adherence to that original conviction of a struggle long, bloody, and exhaustive, and with varying fortune, which had prompted the heroic assurance, at his first inauguration at Montgomery, of an “inflexible” pursuit of the object of independence.

President Davis sufficiently exposed, in his first message to the new Congress, the evil consequences of the pernicious military system under which the war had thus far been conducted. Indeed, its evils were apparent, and the country responded to the urgent appeals of the President for a more efficient organization of the armies of the Confederacy—one that should insure a force sufficient to meet the present exigency and to provide for future defense. It was with considerable reluctance that he finally recommended the adoption of the act of conscription. Constitutional scruples were at least debatable, but there could be no question as to the appearance of bad faith by the Government, with the patriotic volunteers, who had responded at the first call to arms, and who were now compelled to remain in the field, by a law adopted, just as their term of service was expiring. Yet this was the class necessarily constituting the majority of those who would be subject to the operation of the law, as they were a majority, or an approximate majority, of the arms-bearing population.

To one so peculiarly jealous of encroachments by the central power upon the privileges of the States, the proposition had additional objections. Mr. Davis had hoped to avoid the necessity of a measure, so much after the manner of military despotism, and sought to take advantage of the patriotic ardor exhibited upon the first rush to arms, by inducing enlistments for the war. Especially distasteful was a resort to compulsion into the ranks, in a war the success of which necessarily depended upon the voluntary and patriotic aid of the people, while the enemy, without difficulty, raised a half million of men for their schemes of conquest.

Second to the object of independence only, the controlling aspiration of President Davis was, that the war might not terminate in the destruction of civil liberty. With evident pride, he proclaimed the honorable fact that, “through all the necessities of an unequal struggle, there has been no act on our part to impair personal liberty or the freedom of speech, of thought, or of the press.”[45] His consistent regard for civil liberty was preserved even in instances where additions to the executive authority would result. The rÔle of Louis Quatorze, of Frankenstein, or of CÆsar, presented no attractions to the republican executive, whose position and authority were, themselves, a protest against the exercise of arbitrary and ungranted powers.

It is a striking evidence of the contempt for consistency, manifested by Mr. Davis’ assailants, that these virtues, so commendable in the executive of a free people, should then have actually constituted the ground of accusation, by those who subsequently charged him with an ambition to unite in himself all the departments of the Government. There arose, at this time, a demagogical demand for a “Dictator”—that morbid aspiration characteristic of men of weak nerve and deficient fortitude, which vainly seeks to make Government more powerful for good purposes, by removing all restraints upon its power to do evil.

Emphatic in the assertion of the authority conferred by the Constitution upon his position, President Davis was no less persistent in his refusal to countenance the investiture of himself with dictatorial powers.

But the stern and pressing exigencies of the times outweighed considerations of even the gravest import, and induced a resort to that measure which the President had hoped to avoid, but upon which now depended the salvation of the country. In accordance with the recommendation of the President, Congress, on the 16th of April, 1862, adopted the conscription law, which was thenceforward, with many material modifications rendered necessary by circumstances, the basis of the military system of the Confederacy. This law placed at the disposal of the President, during the war, every citizen not belonging to a class exempted, between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five, thus annulling all contracts made with volunteers for short terms. By this act, the States surrendered their control over such of their citizens as came within the terms of the act, and in each State were located camps of instruction, for the reception and training of conscripts. There were other features of the conscription law, having in view an increased solidity and harmony of the army organization.

It is impossible to overestimate the immediate benefits realized to the Confederacy from this legislation. The incipient disorganization of the army, consequent upon the numerous furloughs granted to such of the men as would reËnlist for the war, was instantly checked; large additions were made to commands already in the field, and the discipline and general frame-work of the army greatly improved.

Second in importance to the adoption of the act of conscription only, among the accessions of strength to the military system of the Confederacy at this period, was the appointment of General Lee to the general command of the armies, “under the direction of the President.”[46]

The nature of the position thus assigned to one whom the concurrent criticism of his age pronounces the most eminent of American commanders, has been much misunderstood, and with its discussion has been associated much injurious misrepresentation of President Davis.

General Lee, after the failure of his campaign in North-western Virginia, in the autumn of 1861, became the object of a vast amount of disparaging criticism. His case was, indeed, in marked coincidence with that of Sidney Johnston. Both were distinguished in the Federal service; previous to the war they were generally conceded to be the ablest officers of that service; both were known to have been the classmates of Jefferson Davis and his intimate friends. In their first campaigns, both were adjudged, by the hot and impulsive temper of the time, to have committed gross and signal failure. Neither had many apologists. Johnston was declared an imbecile—a mere martinet, without any of the qualities of true generalship; and Lee was pronounced incompetent for higher duties than the clerical performances of the War Office.

President Davis alone remained firm in behalf of these two men, whom a few months sufficed to triumphantly vindicate. What nobler vindication should he himself claim than that, through his firmness and discernment, was given the needed opportunity to the three great soldiers—Lee, Sidney Johnston, and Stonewall Jackson—who, above all others, have illustrated American warfare.[47]

It has been erroneously supposed and asserted, that General Lee was assigned the position of commanding general at the special instance of Congress, and in obedience to the proclaimed will of the people. Whatever may have been the concurrence of the Confederate Congress in the selection made by President Davis of Lee for that position, there is no ground for the hypothesis that the Southern people welcomed this promotion of General Lee as an assurance of good fortune in the future conduct of the war.

Indeed, the act of Congress, creating the office of commanding general, was adopted at the special suggestion of the President, who immediately assigned Lee to the discharge of its duties. Congress designed General Lee to be Minister of War, and, with a view to the promotion of that purpose, repealed a provision which deprived of his rank in the army, a general assigned to the control of the War Office. But President Davis clearly understood the broad and palpable distinction, between the talents requisite for successful administration of that department of the Government, and the genius of a great soldier. He had too just an appreciation of the high military qualities of Lee, to consent to their virtual entombment in a civil position. In accordance with these suggestions, the President obtained the adoption of the necessary legislation, and conferred upon General Lee the control and supervision of the purely military affairs and operations of the war administration. Thus it was neither in compliance with the action of Congress, nor in deference to the popular will, that President Davis selected an appropriate sphere for the genius of Lee, where it “soon dawned upon the admiration of mankind, and retained its effulgence undimmed to the last.”[48]

The terms of the order assigning General Lee to duty, “under the direction of the President,” have been construed to signify, that it was not designed that he should exercise those appropriate functions which obviously appertain to the position of commanding-general. It has been argued that the President thus created Lee a sort of “chief of staff,” or ornamental attachÉ of his military household, with a purely complimentary and meaningless title. The selections made by Mr. Davis, of Lee first, and, subsequently, of Bragg, as incumbents of the position, sufficiently repel this absurd conclusion. It is true that the President did not delegate to these officers his constitutional functions as commander-in-chief, but to assist and advise him, in the discharge of those arduous and laborious functions, required no ordinary skill and experience. The well-known confidence, reposed by the President in General Lee, may accurately measure the influence of the latter, upon the Confederate military administration.

In the progress of those events, which have thus far engrossed our attention, notable changes had occurred in the cabinet. Early in the summer of 1861, Mr. Toombs had surrendered the portfolio of State, and Mr. Hunter, a former United States Senator from Virginia, whose name was prominently associated with the political history of the Union for more than twenty years, was placed at the head of the Confederate administration. During the ensuing winter, Mr. Hunter retired from the cabinet, and was transferred to the Confederate Senate.

Mr. Benjamin, originally Attorney-General, had been temporarily assigned to the War Department, upon the resignation of Mr. Walker, who was the first incumbent. The connection of Mr. Benjamin with the War Office continued for several months, when he was transferred to the Department of State, where he remained until the overthrow of the Confederacy. The period of his administration of the War Department measures an important space in the history of the Confederacy. It was a period marked by numerous, consecutive, and appalling disasters, and, as has been already seen, Mr. Benjamin did not escape the penalty of official position during a season of public calamity. We have glanced briefly at the question of his official responsibility, not with a view of his vindication, though we have denied the justice of the unlimited reproach, which pursued both himself and Secretary Mallory, long after even the pretext had disappeared.

The censure of Mr. Benjamin was based upon the assumption that he was responsible for reverses, which a more skillful and attentive management would have avoided. Yet the facts establish the declaration of Mr. Davis that those reverses were unavoidable. They, indeed, simply foreshadowed the fact, which the country soon after realized, of the immense disadvantage of the Confederate forces in all cases where the naval facilities of the enemy could be made available. Can it be successfully maintained that another in the place of Mr. Benjamin would have prevented the fall of Forts Henry and Donelson, of Roanoke Island, of Newbern, of Memphis, of Island No. 10, and of New Orleans? General Randolph, the successor of Mr. Benjamin, is universally conceded to have made a competent secretary of war during his brief term; yet will it be maintained that had General Randolph, instead of Mr. Benjamin, been the successor of Mr. Walker, that all, or any of those disasters would have been prevented?

Mr. Benjamin can hardly be deemed less fortunate than his successors. Messrs. Randolph and Breckinridge were, perhaps, fortunate in the brief period of their responsibility, or they, too, might have shared the public censure so freely lavished upon Messrs. Walker, Benjamin, and Seddon.

Perhaps no more thankless position was ever assumed by an official than the management of the War Department of the Confederate States. The difficult problem propounded by Themistocles—“to make a small state a great one”—was of easy solution, compared to that presented the luckless incumbent of an office, in which the abundance of responsibilities and embarrassments was commensurate only with the poverty of resources with which to meet them. To create an army from a population of between five and six millions, able to successfully cope with an adversary supported by a home population of twenty-five millions, aided by the inexhaustible reserves of Europe; with blockaded ports, a newly-organized Government, and a country of limited manufacturing means; to match in the material of war the wealthiest and most productive nation in the world; to maintain the strength and efficiency of an army decimated by its own unnumbered victories, and from a population depleted by successive conscriptions, was the encouraging task devolving upon President Davis and his Secretary of War. It is, at least, reasonable to doubt whether even the genius of Napoleon, or of Carnot, was ever summoned to such an enterprise.

No allegation was made more freely and persistently against Mr. Davis than that of favoritism. At times he was represented as a merciless, inexorable, capricious master, who would tolerate neither intelligence nor independence in his subordinates, who were required to be the subservient agents of his will. Again, he was declared an imbecile puppet in the hands of Mr. Benjamin, who, with an amazing protean adaptability, assumed the character of Richelieu, Mazarin, Wolsey, or Jeffreys, as might meet the convenience of the censors. At all times, however, the public was urged to believe Mr. Davis was engaged in devising rewards for unworthy favorites, who, while obsequious to his whims, insolent in the enjoyment of his bounty, and secure under the executive Ægis, were surely carrying the cause to perdition.

This allegation of favoritism was assumed to have a conspicuous illustration in the case of Mr. Benjamin, for whom the President retained his partiality even after he had been censured by Congress, and when his unpopularity was not to be concealed. The same motive was affirmed, however, in the selection of his other advisers; and to obviate the necessity of detail hereafter, we will dispose of this subject at once.Despite the persistent assertion to the contrary, the fact is indisputable, that, in the selection of no single member of his cabinet, did Jefferson Davis make use of the opportunity to reward either a friend or a partisan. In no case did personal favor even remotely influence his choice, save in the appointment of Mr. Seddon as Secretary of War—an appointment made with the universal acclaim of the public and the newspapers. James A. Seddon and Jefferson Davis were, indeed, friends of twenty years’ standing; but, besides, Mr. Seddon was recommended not more by the confidence of the President, than by the unlimited confidence of the country in his intellect, integrity, and patriotism.

Personal details are frequently not to be denied an important historical bearing, and the motives of Mr. Davis, in the choice of his cabinet, claim no insignificant page in his official history. We have briefly adverted elsewhere to some of these considerations.

When the Confederate cabinet was organized at Montgomery, Robert Toombs was placed at its head; yet between Davis and Toombs there had not been close intimacy, hardly mutual confidence—certainly nothing like ardent friendship. But Mr. Toombs represented an overwhelming majority of the people of Georgia, the wealthiest and largest State of the Confederacy at that period, as determined at their last election. He was peculiarly the representative public man of Georgia; the most prominent citizen of his State, repeatedly selected for its highest honors, and then a reputed statesman. When Mr. Toombs resigned, his successor was Mr. Hunter, who had served with Mr. Davis in the Senate, and in whose qualifications the President had confidence. They had both been friends of Mr. Calhoun, and disciples of his political school. Political accord by no means signifies personal intimacy, and while Mr. Hunter has many admirers, and was greatly respected in Virginia and in the Senate, he has not been generally accredited with marked sympathetic tendencies.

Mr. Benjamin was originally made Attorney-General, because of his high legal reputation, and because Louisiana was entitled to a representative in the cabinet, but not because of personal considerations, since his relations with Mr. Davis were neither intimate nor cordial. The partiality of the President for Mr. Benjamin was, indeed, an after-thought—the result of observation of his wonderful mental resources, his unequal capacity for labor and zealous devotion to the cause.

Mr. Mallory was recommended for the Navy Department by his previous experience. There had been mutual kind feeling between himself and Mr. Davis as Senators, but nothing like close association. Mr. Davis had never seen Mr. Walker until he was appointed Secretary of War, in accordance with the emphatic choice of Alabama. General Randolph was appointed solely in consequence of Mr. Davis’ convictions of his fitness. Previous to the war General Randolph was undistinguished, save in Virginia, where his fine capacity and exalted worth were becomingly appreciated. General Breckinridge, the last Confederate Secretary of War, was sufficiently recommended by his talents and position. Mr. Memminger was made Secretary of the Treasury, not as the friend of Mr. Davis, but as the choice of South Carolina. With Mr. Trenholm, his successor, the President had no personal acquaintance, until he became a member of the cabinet. Mr. Davis, the last Attorney-General, was originally neither a personal friend nor a party associate of the President; nor was Mr. Watts, his predecessor.With the favorable response of Congress and the people to the vigorous and timely suggestions of the President, began a more spirited prosecution of the war, though the season of peril was not yet tided over, nor the current of adversity exhausted. Already there were numerous indications of the increased scale, and enlarged theatre of operations, which the war now demanded.

At the conclusion of active operations in the Trans-Mississippi district, in the autumn of 1861, the State forces of Missouri, still retaining their separate organization, under General Price, and the Confederate forces of McCulloch, were located south of Springfield, near the Arkansas line. An unfortunate phase of the Southern conduct of the war in this quarter, and one from which arose no little apprehension, was the apparently irreconcilable difference between Generals Price and McCulloch. With a view to secure the indispensable element of harmony, President Davis, during the winter, appointed Major-General Earl Van Dorn, an able and gallant officer, to the supreme command of military operations in the Trans-Mississippi department. General Van Dorn was a favorite with the President, and his services had already been of a character to justify the high expectations, indulged not less by himself than by the public, of fortunate results of the unanimity, at last secured in a quarter where its absence had been severely felt.

The result of the enemy’s movements, begun early in January, 1862, was the retreat of the weak column of Price to the Boston Mountains, in Arkansas, where McCulloch was encamped. This junction of the two commands did not result in coÖperation until the arrival of General Van Dorn, early in March. With a vigor characteristic of this officer’s career, Van Dorn advanced against the enemy, advantageously posted, and with numbers superior to his own force. The result was the battle of Elk Horn, a brilliant but fruitless engagement, in which the Southern commander, in consequence of the want of discipline among his soldiers, and partially through the effects of those earlier dissensions with which he had no connection, failed to realize the ends at which he aimed.[49]

Elk Horn was probably the most considerable engagement, in point of the numbers engaged, fought during the war, west of the Mississippi. Unimportant in its bearing upon the general character of the war, it was a decided check upon the aspiration of the Confederate Government to recover Missouri, and to give its authority a solid establishment in the Trans-Mississippi region. This was afterward the least important theatre of the war, though subsequent events there were by no means unworthy of record. Even at this early stage, the war was rapidly tending to a concentration of the energies of both parties, upon the more vital points of conflict in Virginia, and the central zone of the Confederacy. A few weeks later Generals Van Dorn and Price, with the major portion of the Trans-Mississippi army, were transferred to the scene of operations east of the great river.

General Albert Sidney Johnston, after his retreat from Nashville, consequent upon the fall of Fort Donelson, paused at Murfreesboro’, Tennessee, for a sufficient period to receive accessions to his force, which increased it to the neighborhood of twenty thousand men. These accessions were portions of the command lately operating in South-eastern Kentucky, and remnants of the forces lately defending Fort Donelson. General Beauregard, having evacuated Columbus, which, in common with the other posts of the former Confederate line of defense in Kentucky and Tennessee, became untenable with the loss of the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers, concentrated his forces at Corinth, in the northern part of Mississippi.

The evacuation of Columbus did not necessarily give the enemy control of the Mississippi above Memphis. A strong position was taken by the Confederate forces at Island No. 10, forty-five miles below Columbus. Considerable anticipation was indulged by the Southern public, of a successful stand at this point for the control of the Mississippi. It was, however, captured by the enemy; and in the loss of two thousand men and important material of war by its surrender, the Confederacy sustained another severe blow, and the Federal Secretary of the Navy justly congratulated the North, upon a “triumph not the less appreciated because it was protracted and finally bloodless.”

The retirement of the forces of General Albert Sidney Johnston south of the Tennessee River, and the location of General Beauregard’s command at Corinth, readily suggested the practicability of a coÖperation, by those two commanders, for the defense of the valley of the Mississippi, and the extensive railroad system, of which Corinth is the centre. With the approbation of President Davis, a concentration of troops, from various quarters, ensued, and, about the first of April, an admirable army of forty thousand men was assembled in the neighborhood of Corinth, and upon the railroads leading to that point. There was no situation during the war more assuring of good fortune to the Confederates, than that presented in Northern Mississippi in the early days of April, 1862. President Davis indulged the highest anticipations from this grand combination of forces which he so cordially approved. He confidently expected a victory from the Western army, led by that officer whose capacity he trusted above all others, which should more than compensate for the heavy losses of the previous campaign. General Johnston was no less hopeful of the situation. The conjuncture was indeed rare in its opportunities. The exposed situation of General Grant, whose command lay upon the west bank of the Tennessee River, with a most remarkable want of appreciation of its precarious position by its commander, and a total absence of provision for its safety, invited an immediate attack by the Confederate commander, before the Federal column could be reinforced by Buell, then making rapid marches from Nashville.

The incidents of the battle of Shiloh are familiar to the world. It constitutes, perhaps, the most melancholy of that series of “lost opportunities” in the Confederate conduct of the war, upon which history will dwell with sad interest. The first day’s victory promised fruits the most brilliant and enduring. The action of the second day can only be construed as a Confederate disaster. Such was the sentiment of the South, and such must be the verdict of history.

Shiloh was, perhaps, the sorest disappointment experienced by the South, until the loss of Vicksburg, and the defeat of Gettysburg threatened the approaching climacteric of the Confederacy. The public grief at the death of General Johnston was tinged with remorse, for the unmerited censure with which the popular voice, encouraged by the press, had previously assailed him. Not until his death did the South appreciate the worth of this great soldier. Never, perhaps, had there been a more sublime instance of self-abnegation than was displayed by Sidney Johnston.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.”