The Victim: A Romance of the Real Jefferson Davis

by Thomas Dixon

  CHAPTER III

  A MIDNIGHT SESSION

  The Secretary of War invited Socola to join him at the White House afterthe Cabinet meeting which President Buchanan had called at the unusualhour of ten at night. He had waited for more than two hours in theanteroom and still the Cabinet was in session. Without show ofimpatience he smoked cigar after cigar, flicked their ashes into thefireplace and listened with an expression of quiet amusement to thestorm raging within while the sleet of a January blizzard rattledagainst the windows with increasing fury.

  Once more the question of the little fort in the harbor of Charlestonhad plunged the discordant Cabinet of the dying administration into theconvulsions of a miniature war.

  The feeble old President, overwhelmed by the gathering storm, crouchedin the corner by the fire. His emaciated figure was shrouded in aridiculous old dressing-gown. Mentally and physically prostrate he satshivering while his ministers wrangled.

  He rose at last, shambled to the Cabinet table, and leaned his tremblinghands on it for support.

  "What can I do, gentlemen--what can I do? If Anderson hadn't gone intothat fort at night, the State of South Carolina might not haveseceded--"

  Stanton shook his massive head with an expression of uncontrollablerage.

  "Great God!"

  The President continued in feeble, pleading tones:

  "Now they tell me that unless Anderson withdraws his troops theirpresence will provoke bloodshed--"

  "Let them fire on him if they dare!" shouted Stanton.

  "I cannot plunge my country into fratricidal war. My sands are nearlyrun. I only ask of God that my sun may not set in a sea of blood--"

  He paused and lifted his thin hands, trembling like two withered leavesof aspen in the winter's blast.

  "What can I do?"

  Stanton suddenly sprang from his seat and confronted the shivering oldman.

  "I'll tell you what you can _not_ do!"

  The President gasped for breath and listened helplessly.

  "You can't yield that fort to the conspirators who demand it. Dare to doit, and I tell you, as the Attorney General of the United States, youare guilty of high treason--and by the living God you should be hung!"

  The venerable Secretary of the Navy, Isaac Toucey, lifted his hand inprotest. Stanton merely threw him a look of scorn, and shouted into thePresident's face:

  "Your act could no more be defended than Benedict Arnold's!"

  "And what say you, Holt?" the President asked, turning to hisheavy-jawed Secretary of War.

  "Send a ship to the relief of Sumter within twenty-four hours, and letSouth Carolina take the consequences--"

  "Good!" Stanton cried.

  Holt's crooked mouth was drawn in grim lines, and the left-hand cornerwas twisted into a still lower knot of ugly muscles. His furtive eyesbeneath their shaggy brows glanced quickly around the table to see theeffect of his patriotic stand.

  The President turned to the white-haired Secretary of the Navy:

  "And you, General Toucey?"

  The venerable statesman from Connecticut bowed gravely to his Chief andspoke with quiet dignity.

  "I would order Anderson to return at once to Fort Moultrie--"

  Stanton smashed the table with his big fist.

  "And you know that the State of South Carolina has dismantled FortMoultrie?"

  Toucey answered Stanton's bluster with quiet emphasis.

  "I'm aware of that fact, sir!"

  "And it makes no difference?"

  "None whatever. Anderson left Fort Moultrie and moved into Fort Sumterwithout orders--"

  A faint smile flickered about the drooping corners of Holt's mouth--

  The speaker turned to Holt:

  "As a matter of fact, he moved into that fort against the positiveorders of your predecessor, James B. Floyd, the Secretary of War. As hewent there without orders, and against orders, he should be ordered backforthwith--"

  "With the look of a maddened tiger Stanton flew at him.

  "And you expect to go back to Connecticut after making that statement?"

  "I do, sir--"

  "I couldn't believe it."

  "And why, pray?"

  "I asked the question in good faith, that I might know the character ofthe people of Connecticut, or your estimate of them."

  The old man drew himself up with cold dignity.

  "I have served the people of my State for over forty years--theirCongressman, their Attorney General, their Governor, their Senator. Iconsult no upstart of your feeble record, sir, on any question ofprinciple or policy!"

  Stanton quailed a moment beneath the cold scorn of his antagonist,surprised that another man should dare to use his methods of invective.

  He lifted his hands with a gesture of contempt.

  "All I can say is, that if I should dare take that position and returnto the State of Pennsylvania, I should expect to be stoned the moment Iset foot on her soil, stoned through the State and flung into the riverat Pittsburg with a stone around my neck--"

  Toucey stared at his opponent.

  "And in my opinion they would deserve well of their country for theperformance!"

  While his Cabinet wrangled, the feeble, old man in the faded wrappershambled to the window and gazed with watery eyes on the swaying treesof the White House grounds. The sleet had frozen in shining crystals andevery limb was hung in diamonds. The wind had risen to hurricane force,howling and shrieking its requiem through the chill darkness. A hugebough broke and fell to the ground with a crash that sent a shiverthrough his distracted soul.

  He turned back to the table to hear their decision. It came with but onedissenting voice, Toucey, Secretary of the Navy.

  "A ship be sent at once to the relief of Sumter."

  With stubborn terror the President refused to sign the order for anarmed vessel. At one o'clock they compromised on the little steamer,_Star of the West_, and Buchanan agreed that she should attempt to landprovisions for Anderson's fifty-odd men.

  Holt hurried from the council chamber at one o'clock with a smile oftriumph playing about his sinister mouth. His plan had succeeded. He hadworked Stanton as the legal adviser of the President exactly as he hadforeseen. The little steamer would test the mettle of the men of SouthCarolina who were training their batteries on Fort Sumter. If they daredto fire on her--all right--the lines of battle would be drawn.

  He seized Socola's arm.

  "Come with me to the War Office."

  Inside, he closed the door, inspected the room in every nook and cornerfor a possible eavesdropper, seated himself and leaned close to hisattentive listener.

  "I have established your character now through your connection with theMinister from Sardinia beyond the possibility of any doubt. Yourposition will not be called in question. You will appear in the South asthe representative, unofficial and yet duly accredited, for King VictorEmmanuel. Your purpose will be, of course, the cultivation of friendlyrelations with the officials of the new Government looking to the day ofits coming recognition--you understand?"

  "Perfectly--"

  "You have absolutely consecrated your life, and every talent, to yourcountry?"

  "Body and soul--"

  The dark eyes flashed with the light of a religious fanatic.

  "Good." The Secretary paused and studied his man a moment.

  "I introduced you to the girl not merely to obtain an invaluable witnessto your credentials should they be questioned--but for a doublepurpose."

  Socola nodded.

  "I guessed as much."

  "She's bright, young, pretty, and you can pass the time pleasantly inher company. The association will place you in a strong position. Herfather is a fool--the storm petrel of Secession. He has the biggestmouth in America, barring none. His mouth is so huge, they'll never finda muzzle big enough if they could get men enough around him to put iton. He's bound to land somewhere high in the councils of the comingConfederacy--"

  "There'll be one?"

&nbs
p; Holt smiled.

  "You doubt it?"

  "It may be bluster after all."

  "Men of the Davis type don't bluster, my boy. They are to meet atMontgomery, Alabama, on February fourth. They'll organize the CottonStates into a Southern Confederacy. If they can win Virginia, NorthCarolina, Tennessee and Arkansas, they may gobble Maryland, Kentucky,and Missouri--all Slave States. If they get them all--they'll winwithout a fight, and reconstruct the Union on their own terms; if theydon't--well, we'll see what we'll see--"

  "And you wish?"

  "That you get for me--and get quickly--inside information of what isdone and what is proposed to be done at Montgomery. I want the names ofevery man discussed for high office among them, his chances ofappointment, his friends, his enemies--why they are his friends, whythey are his enemies. I want their plans, their prospects, their hopes,their fears, and I want this information quickly. You will be suppliedwith ample funds, and your report must be made to me in person. Mytenure of this office will be but a few weeks longer--but you are mypersonal representative, you understand?"

  "Quite."

  "Your report must be in person to me, and to me alone."

  "I understand, sir."

  Socola rose, extended his hand, drew his cloak about his slendershoulders and passed out into the storm, his dark face lighted by asmile as he recalled the winsome face of Jennie Barton.