Authors:
Historic Era:
Historic Theme:
Subject:
August 1962 | Volume 13, Issue 5
Authors:
Historic Era:
Historic Theme:
Subject:
August 1962 | Volume 13, Issue 5
Speaking to an audience in Richmond early in January, 1863, Jefferson Davis undertook to remind all southerners of the oppressive weight which a Northern conquest would inevitably bring to them. The weight was being felt, as he spoke, within much less than one hundred miles of the Confederate capital, and President Davis was eloquent about it.
“The Northern portion of Virginia,” he remarked, “has been ruthlessly desolated—the people not only deprived of the means of subsistence, but their household property destroyed and every indignity which the base imagination of a merciless foe could suggest inflicted without regard to age, sex or condition.”
That Mr. Davis had genuine evils to complain about is undeniable. Northern Virginia had known the harsh rule of General John Pope, and it had had even rougher treatment from undisciplined cavalrymen and straggling foot soldiers who overran towns and plantation houses with a casual rowdiness that was the essence of unstudied and unprovoked brutality. Yet the present generation, to its sorrow, has learned things about oppression which the generation of the 1860’s did not know. The armies of Germany and Russia have shown the hideous things that can happen when an invader really casts aside restraint and sets out to break a conquered people. The words, “every indignity which the base imagination of a merciless foe could suggest,” have a meaning now which President Davis, General Pope, and the wayward Union soldier could not possibly have imagined. By this time we have known foes who were genuinely and literally merciless and whose imaginations could descend to a depth of baseness not conceivable to the innocence of a century ago.
President Davis’ indignation, in short, was justified, but his language meant a great deal less in 1863 than it would mean today. We know now how far “the base imagination of a merciless foe” can go, and if we forget, there are plenty of people in places like Poland and the Ukraine who could refresh our memories. Seen in the light of things that happened overseas in the years after 1940, the American Civil War calls for a milder commentary than once seemed justified. It brought an abundance of cruelty and baseness upon the land, but they were not the cruelty and baseness which our generation has had to know about. Ben Butler, for example, was about as malodorous a governor of occupied territory as the Civil War produced, but he seems positively benign by comparison with military governors recently seen in Europe.
These meditations arise from a reading of Mr. Edmund Wilson’s newest book, Patriotic Gore , which is a discussion, by a most eminent literary critic, of the literature of the Civil War. (Not the literature about the war; Mr. Wilson concerns himself with material written by men and women who were actually in it, from Abraham Lincoln and U. S. Grant to Mary Chesnut and John W. De Forest.) In his