Dear Freddy,
It seems highly appropriate that I should begin this day-by-day instruction by speaking of some of the greatest of our leaders. Having already read of Jackson and Lee, turn your attention towards our first, and only, president.
6 November, 1861 saw the uncontested election of Jefferson Davis for a six-year term as President of the Confederate States of America. As you will be aware, he would not hold office full-term, for the defeat of our cause and his imprisonment cut it short.
Before this 6 November election, Jefferson Davis was already at the reigns of the Confederate government as the Provisional President. What you may not know, Freddy, is that Jeff Davis had no wish to be president. His desire, when secession and war became inevitable, was to have a generalship and ride into battle at the head of his men. However, God, and the people of the South, had different plans for the fifty-three year old statesman.
Davis had issues delegating tasks, and to a degree, if I may speak freely, under the circumstances, it is somewhat understandable. There is one thing that at times hindered our bid for Southern freedom, and that was the petty wrangling between politicians and soldiers from different states. Though again, as we fought to keep our individual state sovereignty, even that independence of spirit is both to be expected and understood to a degree.
But I digress, my point is that Davis wore himself out with cares and worries that he may not had to have borne if he would just have delegated out tasks to his subordinates. I do believe, if I remember correctly, that he had a similar penchant for control while Secretary of War under Pierce.
While a good leader and an ardent proponent of our cause, Fred, Davis was a hard man to work with; learn from virtues: his ardor, his diligence, his determination, his perseverance under trial, but also from his faults: his grudge-bearing (he and at least two of his generals had ruined relationships due to lack of forgiveness), his unability to delegate, his pride. Emulate the fine qualities and avoid the bad, my boy.
I hope, in future letters, to speak more of this great man.
Your loving grandfather,
James B. Hamilton
As Fredrick Jameson reached the conclusion the letter from his grandfather, he looked thoughtfully at the wall. One of the three boys with whom he shared a room threw a pillow at him.
"Hey, Fred! What has you so somber?"
The voice was thick and heavy with a north eastern accent.
Freddy grinned up at his room-mate, a mischievous gleam in his steady face.
"Chuck...how would you like to study history with me?"
"Hey, Fred! What has you so somber?"
The voice was thick and heavy with a north eastern accent.
Freddy grinned up at his room-mate, a mischievous gleam in his steady face.
"Chuck...how would you like to study history with me?"
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