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Interlude Peace (with Independence Always) A s they had for three years, Confederates acted on their perceptions of events much more than on what we, with the benefit of hindsight, would deem reality. For as long as they possibly could, they cast defeats and retreats in a positive light. Confederates had no vocabulary for defeat, no way to fit it into their ideology of God-sanctioned nationhood, and at no time was this dissonance more visible than in the final months of the war.1 Between September 1864 and January 1865, between the fall of Atlanta and the months after Lincoln’s reelection, Confederates became progressively less sure of their future independence. At the same time, however, they still publicly tried to keep spirits up, attempting to construct a world where the war was prolonged, not ending. To us this seems an exercise in self-deception and denial, but it was deception with real political consequences. Confederates refused to admit that the war was drawing to a close because they didn’t want to believe it. With hindsight, and of course knowing its impact on the Northern election of 1864, we believe that Atlanta was a fatal blow to the Confederacy.2 But Confederates themselves, especially those who could not allow themselves to see defeat, sought to convince themselves that the loss of Atlanta was, as Gettysburg had been, a setback, a disappointment. It would not end the war, only prolong it. Sallie Bird’s sanguine description of the loss of Atlanta as ‘‘a great disaster, but not irretrievable,’’ was a typical response. Kate Cumming heard that ‘‘few regret the loss of the city itself, not even Georgians, as they say it was the most wicked place in the world.’’ Gustave Breaux took a balanced look at the situation and decided that ‘‘beyond the actual loss of territory, which is immaterial in actual, & the moral effect on the northern people, which the loss of Atlanta, magnified as it is into a huge victory, (and by the by just at this moment, a serious effect to us)[,] the evacuation of the city by Gen. Hood does not affect vitally the status of the Confederacy.’’ This comment is a perfect example of the intellectual gym- nastics Southerners engaged in during the prolonged endgame of the war— what mattered from a defeat if not the loss of territory or the impact on the enemy’s morale? But rather than address the fundamental illogic of this view, Breaux turned instead to a traditional platitude: that defeat was good for the Confederacy because it would ‘‘only incite our devoted people to greater efforts to recover from the blow.’’ The unspoken question remained, however: how many more blows could the weakened Confederacy absorb?3 During the early fall, Confederates seemed to be of two minds regarding their future. The coming Northern elections still provided some hope to which they could cling. Lincoln might not be reelected; Grant was still stymied outside of Petersburg. At the same time, however, Confederates could not avoid the dismal reality staring them in the face: the victories they had seemed so sure of in the spring had failed to materialize over the summer . They were edgy and emotional, searching for signs yet always trying to maintain some equanimity. ‘‘Was it ominous that I should find my pen split when I took it up to write tonight?’’ asked Gertrude Thomas. ‘‘Shall I dare hope that this new Journal which I am commencing will record Peace, an independent Southern Confederacy?’’ Margaret Wight was struck by ‘‘the gloom’’ that seemed ‘‘cast over every one just now, even the most hopeful,’’ as rumors spread that Grant was preparing for another assault. Hearing that Macon and Augusta were made vulnerable to Sherman, Mary Chesnut lamented , ‘‘We are going to be wiped off the face of the earth.’’4 Another troubling rumor centered on an emerging peace movement within the Confederate government. On 29 September, in a public letter to Jefferson Davis, South Carolina congressman William Boyce warned that the nation was sinking into ‘‘military despotism’’ and called for an immediate armistice and a joint convention of Northern and Southern states to negotiate a settlement. Supporters of Boyce included the Georgians Alexander Stephens, Joe Brown, and Robert Toombs, none of whom enjoyed good relations with Davis. The letter was not well-received by the Confederate public, who saw it as little more than submission inappropriate to Southern manhood.5 Nevertheless, Boyce...

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