The Confederate Nation: 1861 to 1865 (22 page)

I
N March of 1862 Union General George B. McClellan began the campaign by which he hoped to crush the Southern rebellion once and for all. His prospects appeared bright. After elaborate preparations he transported an army of more than 100,000 men from Washington down the Potomac and the Chesapeake Bay to Fort Monroe on the tip of the peninsula between the James and York Rivers in Virginia. From there he planned to march up the peninsula to Richmond and there destroy the Confederacy’s main field arm, its capital, and its government in one blow. McClellan arrived in Virginia on April 2 to join the Army of the Potomac, and the next day Secretary of War Edwin Stanton closed his recruiting offices—the ultimàte statement of his confidence in the Confederacy’s early doom.
¹

Standing between McClellan’s host and Richmond were John Bankhead Magruder and about 10,000 Southern troops. Magruder, a West Pointer known as “Prince John” for his fastidious dress and for his skill at official entertaining, was a professional soldier who had commanded artillery with some skill in the Mexican War. But in April of 1862 many of Magruder’s weapons were “Quaker guns,” logs painted black to resemble cannon, and “Prince John” was all too aware that his command could not provide a proper reception for McClellan’s party.
²

Magruder held a fortified line across the tip of the peninsula from Yorktown to the Warwick River. He reasoned without much confidence that if his batteries at Yorktown and Gloucester Point could keep enemy ships out of the York, if the ironclad
Virginia
could keep the enemy out of the James, and if he were reinforced massively and immediately, then perhaps he could slow down McClellan a bit. “I have made my arrangements to fight with my small force,” Magruder reported to Richmond on April 5, “but without the slightest hope of success.” The next day he commented, “Reinforcements come very slowly, and will probably be too late.”
³

Magruder’s mood was justified, but for the rest of April, McClellan settled down to siege operations before Yorktown, granting the Confederates what appeared to be an uneasy stay of execution. Elsewhere, however, the tide continued to run against the Confederacy.

On April 6 a Confederate army commanded by General Albert Sidney Johnston attacked Ulysses S. Grant’s invasion force at Shiloh, Tennessee. In his drive up the Tennessee River, Grant had paused at Pittsburg Landing to await reinforcements commanded by Don Carlos Buell. Johnston concentrated at Corinth, Mississippi, and sought to overwhelm Grant’s army by a surprise attack. “Tonight,” he reportedly said, “we’ll water our horses in the Tennessee River.” Though the Confederates’ approach was less than stealthy, the Southerners achieved surprise and ran pell-mell through Federal camps during the initial stage of the battle. Then their momentum sagged as Union resistance stiffened. Johnston suffered a mortal wound while attempting to rally his men, and command of the Southern army passed to P. G. T. Beauregard, who directed the disorganized troops as best he could and halted the Confederate attacks at dusk. The Confederates had almost fulfilled their dead general’s prophecy; they had driven the Union force back to the last defensible position before the Tennessee. But almost was not enough. Next day Grant’s army, reinforced by Buell’s troops, counterattacked and in fierce fighting won back lost ground. Beauregard then broke off the engagement and took his army back to Corinth. Tactically the Battle of Shiloh was a’ bloody draw; but from the Confederate perspective it was much less. The enemy threat in the West was still intact, and it was the Southerners who had retreated, losing ground, men, and materiel.
⁴

April continued to be a bad month for the Confederacy. On April 11 the North captured Fort Pulaski near Savannah, sealing the Savannah River and further tightening the Federal blockade.
⁵
Two weeks later came a crushing blow. On April 25 the Confederates abandoned New Orleans to Admiral David Farragut’s fleet. Confederate General Mansfield Lovell had had to gamble the city’s safety upon the guns of Forts Jackson and St. Phillip down river from New Orleans. When Farragut’s ships ran past the river forts, Lovell had to evacuate his small army and give up New Orleans.
⁶

Thus, with the campaigning season of 1862 barely begun, the Confederate situation was well-nigh desperate. As the national expression of the Old South, the Confederacy was a failure.

At this crucial juncture in their fate, the Confederates themselves began a transformation in the Southern world as they had known it before 1861. What emerged was a Confederate South, distinct from the Souths that came before and after. Revolutions have a way of getting out of hand—of affecting institutions and lives they were never intended to affect. Though the change was often subtle and unintended, the Confederates’ revolution, in the name of survival, altered many, if not most, of those traditional Southern characteristics it was designed to preserve. The war experience challenged the chief tenets of the old Southern ideology and life style, and by the spring of 1862 it had become apparent that if the Confederacy were to survive, Southerners would have to fundamentally alter their world and their world view.
⁷

Perhaps no one perceived this reality more clearly than Jefferson Davis, who was, after all, in the best position to gauge the depth of Confederate failure and to assume responsibility for Southern independence and nationality. In his inaugural address on February 22, Davis had shared his vision of the nation’s “darkest hour” and pledged to do better. Within the limits of legislative and administrative inertia and of his own political personality, Davis did do better.
⁸
He began with his cabinet. Secretary of State R. M. T. Hunter had already submitted his resignation to accept a seat in the Senate, where he would serve as president
pro tem.
Secretary of War Benjamin was the target of much criticism from the press, politicians, and public because of the Southern war record in general and the disasters at Roanoke Island and Fort Donelson in particular. Benjamin had also made enemies among the Southern officer corps, most notably Stonewall Jackson and Joseph E.Johnston. Secretary of the Navy Stephen R. Mallory had proven the administration’s second most criticized cabinet officer. Attorney General Thomas Bragg had asked to retire to his native North Carolina. His motives were unclear; perhaps the Democrat Bragg believed he could best serve the Davis government by making room for the appointment of a former Whig to his post. The remaining two members of Davis’ cabinet, Secretary of the Treasury Memminger and Postmaster General Reagan, who worked well in harness with Davis, were secure.
⁹

Clearly, reconstitution of the cabinet was necessary. Davis needed to find replacements for Hunter and Bragg and to decide the fates of Benjamin and Mallory. The President temporized; he made William M. Browne, an English-born newspaper editor from Georgia,
ad interim,
secretary of state while he pondered the politics of reorganization.
¹⁰
Finally on March 18 he submitted to the Senate his nominations for the permanent government’s cabinet. Mallory, Memminger, and Reagan were to stay; Benjamin was shifted from War to State in order to retain his counsel and relieve his embarrassment. Thomas H. Watts, an Alabama Whig, became the new attorney general, and to the War Office, Davis called George Wythe Randolph of Virginia. Predictably the Senate divided over Mallory and Benjamin, but confirmed Davis’ entire slate on March 19.
¹¹

Because the Confederate Congress never established a Supreme Court, Davis used his Attorneys General as
de facto
final arbiters of legal questions involving the government. So Attorney General Watts spent much of his time writing opinions on questions of law for the President and for other department heads. During his eighteen-month tenure Watts wrote one hundred informal opinions, watched over judicial patronage, and heard claims against the government. He served in the cabinet until October of 1863, when he resigned to run for Governor of Alabama.
¹²

Randolph’s greatest claim to fame when he took over the War Office was his grandfather, Thomas Jefferson. The Richmond lawyer had been an active secessionist, an undistinguished officer, and an unsuccessful candidate for the Confederate House of Representatives. Davis probably made Randolph Secretary of War to replace Hunter as the cabinet’s resident Virginian. Consciously or unconsciously he wanted Randolph as an ornament, for he had in fact long believed that he should be his own War Secretary. Convinced that his chief talents were more military than political, Davis doubtless hoped that Randolph would oversee the internal administration of the War Office and implement the policies and strategy of the Commander-in-Chief. For a time Randolph fulfilled these hopes. But when he learned his job, Randolph displayed talent and independence beyond Davis’ expectations and ultimately beyond Davis’ tolerance.
¹³

The cabinet reorganization, designed to improve the administration’s political position and to increase its internal harmony and efficiency, had mixed results. At first the changes looked good to most Southerners, though predictably the Richmond
Examiner
disapproved violently:

Mr. Davis has sacrificed to popular clamor without yielding to public opinion. He has made so small a change…. All of the old members were retained, except those who wanted to get out of it. Benjamin is transferred, and Mallory left in
statu quo.
The representation of the Synagogue is not diminished; it remains full. The administration has now an opportunity of making some reputation; for, nothing being expected of it, of course every success will be a clear gain.
¹⁴

Certainly the Davis government had to improve more than its political posture. The peril confronting the would-be nation that spring demanded not only new people but new policies. By the time Davis announced his revised cabinet, he had already inaugurated new measures.

On February 27 Congress authorized the President to suspend the writ of habeas corpus and to declare martial law in “such cities, towns, and military districts as shall, in his judgement, be in … danger of attack by the enemy.” The act contained internal ambiguity implying that suspension of habeas corpus and martial law were the same thing. Quite aside from this, though, the act challenged the Old South’s fundamental attachment to individualism and its jealous regard for civil liberties. Moreover, it clearly said that the central Confederate government did not trust state and local legal machinery to exercise the necessary discipline over a people at war.
¹⁵

Subsequent acts of Congress in this area progressively limited the blanket authority granted the President in the law of February 1862. Nevertheless Davis’ power to suspend habeas corpus endured and contributed to the government’s growing centralization.
¹⁶
In his first suspension order, written to General Benjamin Huger at Norfolk on the day the act passed, the President stated what he had in mind. After telling Huger to place Norfolk and Portsmouth under martial law, Davis added, “preparation should be made for the removal of that part of the population who could only embarrass the defense.”
¹⁷
Davis wished to be able to arrest and detain “disloyal” Confederates without going through the time-consuming and sometimes unpredictable machinations of civil procedure. This was Davis’ answer to the ever-present conflict between liberty and military necessity in wartime. That spring he resorted to martial law a number of times in a number of places to allow local commanders maximum latitude in their search for security.
¹⁸

An extreme example occurred in the Confederate capital itself. Davis put Richmond under martial law on March 1 and delegated responsibility for its security to Brigadier General John H. Winder. The aging Marylander took his charge seriously. He banned the sale of liquor in the city, ordered all privately owned firearms surrendered to the Confederate Ordnance Bureau, required hotels and railroad companies to provide lists of their guests and passengers, initiated a passport system to control the movement of people in and out of the city, and stationed soldiers at the outskirts to enforce his regime. Winder even attempted to enforce the Hack Ordinance, a municipal regulation governing fares for hired carriages; but Richmond police had never been able to prevent overcharging, and though Winder tried, he was no more successful than the civil authorities.
¹⁹

By March 15, 1862, Winder had confined thirty suspected traitors, spies, and Union sympathizers in the Castle Goodwin military prison. Among these unfortunates were John Minor Botts, former United States congressman from Virginia, who had declared himself a neutral, and the Reverend Alden Bosserman, pastor of Richmond’s Universalist Church, who had prayed openly for the defeat of “this unholy rebellion.”
²⁰

The General employed soldiers from his command and also hired civilian agents to do his work. So zealous were Winder’s men that they confiscated patent medicine of a suspect alcoholic content and arrested druggists who filled forged prescriptions for medicinal spirits. Late in March, Winder tried to fix prices of foodstuffs in Richmond’s marketplaces. The experiment lasted only a few weeks because farmers stopped bringing their produce into the city in the face of passport delays and fixed prices. Rather than confront empty marketplaces, Winder revoked his order and abandoned his price-fixing scheme.
²¹

General Winder’s actions were perhaps atypical. They went further than the President had originally intended, but they were an index of how far the government would go to win independence. In April the Congress limited suspension of habeas corpus to cases involving violation of Confederate law.
²²
And on April 25, Attorney General Watts wrote in answer to a query from Davis: “Let the
general
rule be that the civil jurisdiction of the courts shall be exercised as usual; and the exception prevail only when a necessity for the departure is manifest.”
²³
In Richmond and elsewhere civilian courts remained open and traditional law enforcement activities continued during the Confederacy’s attempt to enforce internal security by arbitrary arrest.