IN the civil history of the Confederacy, the last important issue was, inevitably, the mode of reinforcing Lee. The government was at its wits’ end but some plan of reinforcement had to be formed. During the winter of 1864-1865, the advance of Sherman was paralleled at Richmond by the growth of a realization that the worst had come, and that desperate remedies—even the last word for desperation—must now be tried. A variety of schemes—not excepting a dictatorship on the Roman model—merged gradually in the absorbing question: Shall we arm the slaves?

     What appears to have been the earliest proposition to do so was, made in the summer of 1863.¹ It was then considered unpractical. The exigencies of Johnston’s army caused a revival of the scheme in the following year. A council of officers, while the army was encamped at Dalton, considered and rejected it.² Throughout the year 1864, the subject was a matter of general talk—how general it is now impossible to say—and in some quarters at least produced bitter opposition. Two letters preserved in the Confederate Museum at Richmond³ profess to record the sentiment of the army around Petersburg. It is stated in these letters that the army was strongly opposed to the scheme and that many men had declared they would leave the ranks if negroes were enrolled. Another interesting document is a letter from Secretary Benjamin to Frederick A. Porcher of Charleston.⁴ It was written late in 1864, and speaks of a ripening sentiment with regard to the enrollment of negroes, advises a campaign of discussion in the newspapers, evades rather than meets certain constitutional difficulties, and adroitly intimates the conditions under which the establishment of a Roman dictatorship might be the only dignified—though highly lamentable—course for the Confederacy to pursue.

     Whether this letter is candid or not is a question of interpretation. Certainly it is part of the evidence that Benjamin rather than Davis was author of the scheme. It helps to confirm the impression that Benjamin was practically, during its last stage, the Confederacy’s premier, the originator to a great extent of its policy. We shall not

be surprised therefore when we find that the opposition to his negro scheme became entangled with a movement to compel his resignation. But this anticipates events.

     The first great monument to the debate upon the arming of the slaves is a passage in the President’s message to Congress, November 7, 1864.⁵ This message is often misquoted. Frequently it is said that he asked Congress to give him 40,000 slaves to be used as soldiers, with a promise of emancipation at the end of their service. His actual request was for 40,000 slave laborers. His remarks upon the subject of negro soldiers were as follows:

     I must dissent from those who advise a general levy and arming of the slaves for the duty of soldiers. Until our white population shall prove insufficient for the armies we require and can afford to keep in the field, to employ as a soldier the negro . . . would scarcely be deemed wise or advantageous by any, and this is the question now before us. But should the alternative ever be presented of subjugation or of the employment of the slave as a soldier, there seems no reason to doubt what should then be our decision.

     There the matter rested during the next three months. However, there was wide-spread anxiety on the subject. The Journals of the Confederate Congress, newspaper files, and personal recollections, all confirm the tradition that the subject was generally discussed during the last winter of Confederate history. It parted itself into three distinct questions: Should the slaves be given arms under any circumstances? If used as soldiers, should they be promised emancipation? Should whatever was done—if anything—be done by the Confederate or by the state governments? Because it comprised these three distinct questions, discussion of it inevitably was tortuous, with considerable ebb and flow. Furthermore the whole matter was complicated by a popular suspicion that the President was aiming at dictatorship. Davis urged Congress to clothe him with authority to suspend the writ of habeas corpus⁶ and his enemies construed this request in the most sinister way. In the light of what we now know of the views of his premier, we cannot dismiss the popular guess as lightly as once seemed permissible.

     Some time between November 7, 1864, and March 13, 1865, Davis became a convert to the scheme to enroll slaves as soldiers. At what time this happened is still to be determined. On the latter date, however, shortly after Congress had finally decided to allow the enrollment of negroes, Davis communicated to it this criticism:⁷

     The bill for employing negroes as soldiers has not yet reached me, though the printed journals of your proceedings inform me of its passage. Much benefit is anticipated from this measure, though farless than would have resulted from its adoption at an earlier date, so as to afford time for their organization and instruction during the winter months.

     This message made the Senate indignant and “so much thereof as relates to the action of Congress” was referred to a special committee of five, consisting of Orr, Graham, Semmes, Caperton, and Watson.⁸ On the sixteenth, this committee reported.⁹

     That a law so radical in its character, so repugnant to the prejudices, of our people [says the report], and so intimately affecting the organism of society, should encounter opposition and receive a tardy sanction, ought not to excite surprise, but if the policy and necessity of the measure had been seriously urged on Congress by an Executive message legislative action might have been quickened. The President, in no official communication to Congress, has recommended the passage of a law putting slaves into the Army as soldiers, and the message under consideration is the first official information that such a law would meet his approval.

     Nevertheless, newspaper paragraphs printed that winter make it plain that the popular mind had formed the idea long before that a slave army was among the intentions of the government. Apparently the message of November 7 was interpreted as a “feeler” to take the sense of the country relative to a plan already decided upon. That bitter opponent of Davis, the Charleston Mercury, took for granted early in the winter that the President had made up his mind, and was in favor of enrolling slaves. A message of Governor Smith of Virginia, who also appears to have taken it for granted, and who spoke favorably with regard to it, was sharply criticized by the Mercury.¹⁰ The defeat of Hood, in the desperate battle of Franklin, caused a natural increase of interest in all schemes to reinforce the army, and a Richmond correspondent wrote the Mercury that as a consequence the question of negro troops was getting favorable consideration.¹¹ Presently we find Prentiss, the famous editor of the Louisville Courier-Journal, making public declaration that Davis intended to arm 200,000 slaves, promising liberty to themselves and their families.¹² It seems hardly fanciful to say that the possibility of this black army hung over the Southern mind, that

dreadful winter, a veritable shadow of despair. A pathetic attempt to lay the spectre was a resolution proposed in the House of Representatives, to cease agitating the subject of employing negro troops, “a measure which has already divided public sentiment and produced much despondency”.¹³

     The agitation gradually gathered strength. Lee aided it with his great influence. In a letter to Andrew Hunter,¹⁴ written during January, 1865, he discussed the situation with admirable penetration and lucidity. Though still holding that slavery under existing racial conditions was the best solution of the problem of black and white in the South, he concluded that military necessity compelled its abandonment. Black troops were needed, and military service must be followed by their emancipation; and that, in time, by a general abolition of slavery. The South must accept conditions and make the best of them. However, Congress did not take definite action on the subject until February, 1865. On the sixth of that month, Moore of Kentucky moved in the House to consider the expediency of empowering the President to call negroes into the field.¹⁵ An attempt to table the motion was lost by a close vote.¹⁶ The Congressional battle over the enrollment of negroes as troops had begun. Moore’s motion was referred to the committee on military affairs.¹⁷

     The next day, in the Senate, a resolution was submitted, which forms a truly pathetic landmark in Confederate history.¹⁸

     Resolved, That the Committee on Military Affairs be instructed to report a bill with the least practicable delay, to take into the military service of the Confederate States a number of negro soldiers, not to exceed two hundred thousand, by voluntary enlistment, with the consent of their owners, or by conscription, as may be found necessary; and that the committee provide in said bill for the emancipation of said negroes in all cases where they prove loyal and true to the end of the war, and for the immediate payment, under proper restrictions, of their full present value to their owners.

     It is to be observed that this resolution forced the issue on all three of the questions involved. It proposed to arm the slaves, to promise them freedom, and to commit the whole matter to the Confederate government. Davis probably was now prepared to take high ground on all three propositions—also, as it turned out, were three senators, Brown, Henry, and Vest. But the remainder of the senators present, thirteen in all, went against them.¹⁹

     From the seventh of the month until the tenth, no further action was taken in either house of Congress. During this time the President continued an official silence. Secretary Benjamin, on the contrary, came forward as official advocate of the measure. On the night of February 9, he made his last political address.²⁰ The substance of it may be gathered from a letter²¹ which he wrote to Lee two days afterward. He had spoken, he said, with regard to the “necessity of instant re-enforcement for your army”, proposing “that those slaves only who might volunteer to fight for their freedom, should be at once sent to the trenches”. The proposition met with “decided favor from the meeting’’. And then comes the significant remark that, nevertheless, opposition had again gathered strength, and had raised the cry that such a course would “disband the army by reason of the violent aversion of the troops to have negroes in the field with them. . . . If we could get from the army”, said Benjamin in conclusion, “an expression of its desire to be re-enforced by such negroes as for the boon of freedom will volunteer to go to the front, the measure will pass without further delay, and we may yet be able to give you such a force as will enable you to assume the offensive.”

     Why Benjamin was put forward, at this juncture, as the administration spokesman, is a mystery. To be sure he was the chief author of the scheme, but this fact hardly bears upon the question. He was also excessively unpopular. Two entries in the Congressional Journals form an unequivocal record of the hostility he had inspired in Congress. Resolutions introduced into the House, February 15, severely condemned him for recent remarks touching Congress and the army. The resolutions went so far as to call his language “derogatory to his position as a high public functionary of the Confederate Government, a reflection on the motives of Congress as a deliberative body, and an insult to public opinion”.²² A vote on these resolutions showed that a third of the House approved them.²³ About the same time, February 13, the Senate divided evenly on a resolution “declaring that the retirement of the Hon. Judah P. Benjamin from the State Department will be subservient of the public interests”.²⁴ It seems safe to conclude that the administration made a blunder in permitting Benjamin’s speech.

     The Confederate Congress has received so little attention, hitherto, that its inner workings are still unknown to us. A tragic

study in historical psychology doubtless lies beneath the bare formality of its Journals; its vacillation forms an amazing spectacle, which as yet challenges explanation in vain. After voting down, by such a large majority, the resolution of February 7, the Senate, on the tenth, permitted the introduction of a bill—S. 190—to provide for the raising of 200,000 negro troops,²⁵ and a week later considered an amendment empowering the War Department to manumit slave soldiers providing it had the consent of the state in which the slaves would be at the date of the proposed manumission.²⁶ This bill however—though it seems to be the source of an erroneous tradition²⁷—was not destined to become law. On February 21, by a vote of eleven to ten, it was indefinitely postponed.

     It is easy to see why the bill was dropped. To begin with, the opposition in the Senate was very strong. Long afterward, Davis made the assertion that “a chief obstacle” to the adoption of this bill, was the opposition of Senator R. M. T. Hunter.²⁸ In retort the senator said:²⁹

     That my opposition to this bill was some obstacle to its passage I had supposed, but that it was a chief obstacle, I had not imagined. I say this not to avoid the responsibility of opposition to that ill-starred measure. I wish I could have defeated it altogether, for I regard its approach to a passage as a stain upon Confederate history. It afforded, I believe, plausible ground against them for the accusation of falsehood in professing to secede from the United States Government, in part, and mainly on the plea that it was, by reason of their fear that the party in power would emancipate the negroes in defiance of the constitution. . . . And now it would be said we had done the very thing . . . without any more constitutional right than they would have had.

     And yet in opposition to Hunter was the known fact that Lee favored arming the negro. However, to find the real clew to the willingness of the Senate to drop its measure, one must consider what had recently taken place in the House. The Senate bill, which

came to its end in that indefinite postponement, appears to have got confused in the minds of most students with quite a different measure that ultimately became law. It was the unsuccessful Senate bill—to which Hunter was “a chief obstacle”—not the House bill, now to be considered, to which may be traced the groundless story that the Confederate Congress authorized Davis to raise an army of 200,000 negroes on the promise of manumission. That, as we have seen, Hunter and his following prevented.

     The successful bill—H. R. 367—was introduced by Barksdale, of Mississippi, on the same day that saw the introduction of the ill starred Senate bill.³⁰ The House referred it to a “select committee of one from each State”.³¹

     Like Benjamin, at about the same date, Barksdale wrote to Lee for advice. His letter was dated on February 12. Lee replied on the eighteenth. He wrote: “I think the measure not only expedient but necessary. The enemy will certainly use them against us if he can get possession of them. . . . I think those who are employed should be freed. It would be neither just nor wise, in my opinion, to require them to serve as slaves.”³² After a parliamentary battle over amendments, H. R. 367 was passed.³³ It was on the following day, after receiving this bill from the House, that the Senate postponed its own bill indefinitely.³⁴ At this point we encounter again that inexplicable dilatoriness of the Congress of the Confederacy. When every hour was precious, when something—one thing or another—should have been ordered at once, the Senate had wavered over its own bill during eleven days. During that time Columbia had gone up in smoke. The House bill was now to be kept waiting fifteen days more. In this period Sherman reached the borders of North Carolina. Would that we had a satisfactory clew to the psychology of the Confederate Senate during these dreadful weeks, when the wave of fire which was Sherman’s advance moved steadily toward Richmond!

     Why the Senate abandoned its own bill and took up the measure submitted by the House, now becomes plain. The latter bill evaded the constitutional difficulties that plagued the legal conscience of the Senate. The great discussion in the House had ended in excluding altogether from the proposed scheme the issue of emancipation. It increased the number contemplated to “three hundred thousand troops, in addition to those subject to military service under existing

laws . . . to be raised from such classes of the population, irrespective of color, in each State as the proper authorities thereof may determine”.³⁵ The President was authorized to call upon each state for its quota under this law. The Senate amended the bill, providing that the levy in any one state should not exceed twenty-five per cent. of the state’s slave population.³⁶ The House accepted the amendment, and the bill was passed, March 9.³⁷ It had been under discussion, since Barksdale introduced it, no less than twenty-seven days.

     To repeat, the dilatoriness of Congress is a psychological mystery yet to be solved. Allowing for all the repugnance the measure naturally inspired, how are we to excuse the Congress for having such uncertain knowledge of its own mind? Fiddling while Rome was burning, really does not seem too harsh a verdict. The form of the measure is not so surely deserving of censure. To be sure Professor Dodd, in his recent remarkable life of Davis, apparently considers it a contemptible measure, one quite unworthy of the greatness of the problem of Confederate defense. He dismisses it as a “lame” enactment, the work of a “panicky” Congress.³⁸ But Professor Dodd, very naturally, has observed the episode from the President’s point of view. Somewhat similar was the attitude of Lee’s contemporaneous biographer, J. D. McCabe, who made the charge long ago, that Congress “studiously set aside the recommendation of General Lee”.³⁹ McCabe added that “the negro . . . was to be forced to fight for his own captivity”. That brilliant but ungenerous persecutor of Davis, Pollard, writes scornfully of the “emasculated measure” which he asserts bore no fruit except two companies of rather ridiculous negro recruits about which, in Pollard’s description, there is a savor of opera bouffe:⁴⁰

     Two companies of blacks, organized from some negro vagabonds in Richmond, which were allowed to give balls at the Libbey Prison and were exhibited in fine fresh uniforms on Capitol Square as decoys to

obtain recruits. But the mass of their colored brethren looked on the parade with unenvious eyes, and little boys exhibited the early prejudices of race by pelting the fine uniforms with mud.

     Pollard, it should be remembered, is always to be taken with a grain of salt.

     These extravagant condemnations omit from consideration three things—the guessing of the Congress with regard to the secret intentions of the President and Benjamin; the reality of state patriotism; and the last paragraph of Lee’s letter to Barksdale. So illuminating is the latter that it should be spread upon the record. Lee wrote:⁴¹

     I have no doubt that if Congress would authorize their [the negroes-’] reception into service, and empower the President to call upon individuals or States for such as they are willing to contribute, with the condition of emancipation to all enrolled, a sufficient number would be forthcoming to enable us to try the experiment [of determining whether the slaves would make good soldiers]. If it proved successful, most of the objections to the measure would disappear, and if individuals still remained unwilling to send their negroes to the army, the force of public opinion in the States would soon bring about such legislation as would remove all obstacles. I think the matter should be left, as far as possible, to the people and the States, which alone can legislate as the necessities of this particular service may require.

     This letter, apparently, is confused in the minds of some writers with that other written a month previously to Andrew Hunter, of Virginia. Those who confuse the two letters forget that the Hunter letter was addressed to a member of the Virginia legislature, while the letter to Barksdale was intended to guide a member of the Confederate Congress. Because Lee had concluded that emancipation was now the final hope of the South, it does not follow that he would have tolerated it if attempted by the Confederate Congress in defiance of his own state. The letter to Barksdale was written at headquarters on the eighteenth; the bill passed the House on the twentieth. Considered in the light of the Barksdale correspondence may it not be construed as the acceptance by Congress of what it understood to be Lee’s wishes? If the House took the matter calmly, deliberately, so did Lee. If the House regarded the situation as one in which “experiment” was still possible, so did Lee. If the House carefully guarded the authority of the states and shut the door against overruling Confederate action, what else could be inferred as the settled conviction of the leader it trusted above all others? If, on one point—the definite invitation to the states to consent to manumission of slaves owned by the Confederate government—

the House was silent, at least it did not set up any barriers to manumission but left the whole matter of the future of slave soldiers to state action. To charge it with studiously disregarding the advice of Lee is extravagant. The sin of the Congress in this connection remains its dilatoriness.

     As we have seen, the passing of the act led to bitterness between the President and the Senate. When Davis wrote the message of March 13 reproving Congress for its delay, he was undoubtedly in an overstrained nervous condition. For this, besides the general tension of the moment, there are at least three causes clearly to be discerned. He was now anxious to enlist the slaves. He was involved in a diplomatic tangle from which he was not destined to emerge successful. But there was a third cause of anxiety which has not as yet received attention from any of his biographers. To understand it we must leave momentarily the politics of the Confederacy as a whole and glance at the politics of Virginia.

     While Congress had fought to a finish its battle over the enrollment of slaves the same issue had been dealt with locally by Virginia. In the course of the latter discussion Lee fully revealed himself in his overlooked capacity of statesman. Whether his abilities as a statesman equalled his ability as a soldier does not here concern us. It is well known that he had no high opinion of them himself. However, in the advice he gave at this final moment of crisis he expressed a definite conception of the articulation of civil forces in a system like that of the Confederacy. He held that all initiative in legislation should remain with the separate states—that the function of the general government was to administer, not to create, conditions—and that the proper power to constrain the separate state legislatures was the flexible extra-legal power of public opinion. Therefore when Congress, accepting practically these views, threw the burden of the military problem on the shoulders of the states, the test of Lee’s influence began. Here again, as at several other points in this singular drama, an erroneous tradition has become established. Even so careful a student as Mr. Bradford, whose fine work on Lee deserves such high praise, has for once affirmed an error, saying that “nothing shows more clearly Lee’s immense influence than the fact that he was able to persuade his countrymen to accept his view” of the matter of negro enrollment. It will be plain in a moment that this statement is far too unconditional.

     Long before the Barksdale act was passed—in fact even before it was introduced—Lee had formulated his programme, and a test of its adequacy to the conditions of the moment was going forward.

Side by side with the struggle in Congress, went the still more momentous struggle in the politics of Virginia. Its issue was the question—anticipating Lee’s later words—whether “the force of public opinion in the States would soon bring about such legislation as would render effective the arming of the slaves”. Obviously emancipation was the condition of its effectiveness. Without the promise of emancipation the scheme justified McCabe’s sneer, “that it commanded the negro to fight for his own captivity”. Whatever may be said on constitutional grounds, in defense of the refusal of Congress to demand emancipation, such defense had no significance in connection with a state. For the state no constitutional difficulty existed. A state legislature, considering what to do in response to the invitations of the act, had nothing to consider but a question of policy. Thus the issue ceased to be constitutional, and became purely political. Did the line of policy advocated by Lee carry sufficient weight to direct the political action of the states? Specifically, of his own state of Virginia?

     Here it is well to refresh one’s memory as to just what that policy was. Setting aside, now, all advice he gave to Congress, let us concentrate attention upon the advice he gave Virginia. Let us go back to the letter he wrote to Andrew Hunter, the Virginia senator. There we find Lee’s view of the situation in terms of pure policy with all its constitutional bearings omitted. The letter which called forth Lee’s reply is also well worth preservation.⁴²

     I refer [wrote Hunter] to the great question now stirring the public mind as to the expediency and propriety of bringing to bear against our relentless enemy the element of military strength supposed to be found in our negro population. . . .

     But it is not to be disguised that public sentiment is greatly divided on the subject; and besides many real objections, a mountain of prejudices growing out of our ancient modes of regarding the institution of Southern slavery will have to be met and overcome before we can attain to anything like that degree of unanimity so extremely desirable in this and all else connected with our great struggle. . . .

     Pardon me, therefore, for asking, to be used not only for my own guidance, but publicly as the occasion may require [various questions which fill the latter part of the letter].

     To this Lee replied:

     Considering the relation of master and slave, controlled by humane laws and influenced by Christianity and an enlightened public sentiment, as the best that can exist between the white and black races while intermingled as at present in this country, I would deprecate any sudden disturbance of that relation unless it be necessary to avert a greater calamity to both. . . .

     Should the war continue under existing circumstances, the enemy may in course of time penetrate our country and get access to a large part of our negro population. It is his avowed policy to convert the able-bodied men among them into soldiers, and to emancipate all. . . . His progress will thus add to his numbers, and at the same time destroy slavery in a manner most pernicious to the welfare of our people. “Their negroes will be used to hold them in subjection, leaving the remaining force of the enemy free to extend his conquests. Whatever may be the effect of our employing negro troops, it cannot be as mischievous as this. If it end in subverting slavery it will be accomplished by ourselves, and we can devise the means of alleviating the evil consequences to both races. I think, therefore, we must decide whether slavery- shall be extinguished by our enemies and the slaves be used against us, or use them ourselves at the risk of the effects which may be produced upon our social institutions. . . .

     The reasons that induce me to recommend the employment of negro troops at all render the effect of the measures . . . upon slavery immaterial, and in my opinion the best means of securing the efficiency and fidelity of this auxiliary force would be to accompany the measure with a well-digested plan of gradual and general emancipation. As that will be the result of the continuance of the war, and will certainly occur if the enemy succeed, it seems to me most advisable to adopt it at once, and thereby obtain all the benefits that will accrue to our cause. . . .

     I can only say in conclusion, that whatever measures are to be adopted should be adopted at once. Every day’s delay increases the difficulty. Much time will be required to organize and discipline the men, and action may be deferred until it is too late.⁴³

     These words were penned, January 11. It is to be borne in mind that they urged immediate action by Virginia at a time when there was no certain evidence that Congress would act at all. It did not occur to Lee that Virginia should wait to receive the guidance of Congress. In urging the policy of emancipation through legislative action he spoke as a Virginian only. Too often this fact is forgotten.

     During the next sixty days, Lee rejected two great opportunities—or, if you will, put aside two great temptations. Circumstantial evidence seems to affirm the tradition that a Congressional cabal definitely proposed to him some such rôle as that of Cromwell and the Long Parliament. If the proposition was really made, the remainder of the tradition—his somewhat haughty refusal—goes without saying. Thus Lee withdrew himself from active intervention in general Confederate politics. But there was going forward, at that same time, another political crisis which presented itself to Lee as a totally different matter. There was a crisis in Virginia politics, overlooked hitherto by historians, which was quite as far reaching as the other crisis in the general politics of the whole Confederacy.

What if Virginia had accepted the views of Lee as outlined in the letter to Andrew Hunter? What if Virginia had thrown herself, with all her vast influence, vehemently on the side of instant execution of those views? A change in the balance of forces throughout the Confederacy must certainly have resulted. That the course of Southern history would have changed had Lee seen fit to seize either of his opportunities can hardly be doubted. “Wanted—a Cromwell”, would not be inappropriate as a description of the Confederacy, and, incidentally, of Virginia, at the opening of 1865. Whether even a Cromwellian assumption could then have saved the day is a speculation the answer to which will test, probably, the degree of military audacity inherent in the speculator. To imagine, however, that Lee whether as militarist or as political manager, would ever have consented to play the role of Cromwell, is to miss the central law of his being. The arch-idealist, he was as incapable of accepting the power offered to him by circumstances as Cromwell, such a different type of man, would have been incapable of refusing it. Whether this was a fault in him or a virtue, a limitation or a sublimity, is not to be discussed in parentheses. All that here concerns us is the fact that he withheld himself from Virginia politics no less than from Confederate politics. He contented himself with drawing up his remarkable state paper, the letter to Hunter, and left the execution of his programme—or its defeat—to the unembarrassed action of his people. For himself, politically speaking, he maintained a splendid isolation at the head of the armies.

     Virginia took position as to Lee’s programme, March 6. While the Barksdale bill was still before the Senate, the Virginia legislature enacted a law providing for the enrollment of slaves as soldiers. It made no mention of emancipation. Of its three sections, only one was significant. It was phrased thus:⁴⁴

     Be it enacted by the General Assembly, That it shall be lawful for all free negroes and slaves, who may be organized as soldiers, now or at any time hereafter by the State or the Confederate Government, for the public defense during the present war with the United States, to bear arms while in active military service, and carry ammunition as other soldiers in the Army.

     It would be interesting to know whether Davis was informed of this law when he sent his sharp rebuke to Congress on March 13. At that date emancipation was perhaps the chief article in his policy. He and Benjamin had decided upon that desperate last stroke of theirs, the proposition to free the slaves as the price of European

intervention. Davis was waiting daily, in tense anxiety, for news from Paris. The two laws—the Barksdale act and the Virginia act—between them demonstrated that his diplomatic bargain, if accepted by Napoleon and Palmerston, could not be carried into effect without a vigorous political campaign against great odds; it could not be put into instant effect without something amounting to a coup d’état.

     As is well known Davis was still vainly watching for hopeful news from Europe when the Confederacy fell. There is also evidence that he was exerting himself to build up a party favorable to emancipation. In this it is plain that he had powerful allies, as is evinced by a letter from him to Governor Smith of Virginia: “I am happy to receive your assurance of success [in raising black troops], as well as your promise to seek legislation to secure unmistakable freedom to the slave who shall enter the Army, with a right to return to his old home, when he shall have been honorably discharged from military service.”⁴⁵

     Had time permitted, the double political crisis of March, 1865, would not only have closed but opened a chapter in Confederate history. Paradoxical as it sounds, the Confederate government, at that moment, needed time even more than men—time to draw its people together in a new regime based on the programme of Lee, time to work out Lee’s plan of gradually constraining the state legislatures through public opinion, time to bargain with Europe on the basis of emancipation. But time was just what the Washington government was determined the Confederacy should not have. The relentlessness with which it hurried events forward takes new meaning when, from within the Confederacy, in the light of Lee’s programme, we reflect upon the value of a little more time to the Confederate cause.