The Victim: A Romance of the Real Jefferson Davis

by Thomas Dixon

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  THE FATAL DEED

  The battle of Gettysburg and the disaster of the fall of Vicksburg oncemore gave to the Johnston junta in the Confederate Congress theiropportunity to harass the President.

  Their power for evil had been greatly diminished by the pressure of theswiftly moving tragedy of the war.

  The appearance of this Congress was curiously plain and uninteresting.With the exception of J. L. M. Curry of Alabama and Barksdale ofMississippi there was not a man among them of constructive ability as astatesman. Foote of Tennessee was noted for his high-flown English, hisendless harangues and his elaborate historical illustrations. Had hisability been equal to the intensity of his hatred for Davis he wouldhave been a dangerous man to the administration. James Lyons of Virginiastood six feet three in his stockings, had fine, even, white teeth, andwas considered the handsomest man in the assembly.

  Yancey, the fierce, uncompromising agitator of secession, was tooviolent to command the influence to which his genius entitled him.

  Senator Barton, fierce, impatient, bombastic, had long ago exhausted thevocabulary of invective and could only repeat himself in descendinganti-climax.

  Hill of Georgia was a young man of ability who gave promise of greaterthings under more favorable conditions.

  The real business of this Congress was transacted in secret executivesessions. When the public was admitted, the people of Richmond generallylooked on with contempt. They sneeringly referred to them as "theCollege Debating Society, on Capitol Hill."

  The surroundings of their halls added to the impression ofinefficiency--dingy, dirty and utterly lacking in the luxuries which themind associates with the exercise of sovereign power.

  The Senate was forced to find quarters in the third story of the "StateHouse." There was no gallery and the spectators were separated from themembers by an improvised railing. The only difference noticeable betweenthe Senators and the spectators was that the members had seats and thelisteners and loafers had standing room only behind the rail.

  The House of Representatives had a better chamber. But its walls werebare of ornament or paintings, its chairs were uncushioned, its desksdingy and slashed with pocket knives. Its members sat with their heelsin the air and their bodies sprawled in every conceivable attitude ofugly indifference.

  The heart and brains of the South were on the field of battle--hernoblest sons destined to sleep in unmarked graves.

  The scenes of personal violence which disgraced the sittings of thisnondescript body of law makers did much to relieve the President of theburden of their hostility.

  Foote of Tennessee provoked an encounter with Judge Dargan of Alabamawhich came near a tragic ending. The Judge was an old man of eccentricdress, much given to talking to himself--particularly as he wanderedabout the streets of Richmond. The gallery of the House loved him fromthe first for his funny habit of scratching his arm when the itch ofeloquence attacked him. And he always addressed the Speaker as "Mr.Cheerman." They loved him particularly for that. The eccentric Judge hada peculiarly fierce antipathy to Foote. Words of defiance had passedbetween them on more than one occasion. The House was in secret nightsession. The Judge was speaking.

  Foote sitting near, glanced up at his enemy and muttered:

  "Damned old scoundrel--"

  The Judge's gray head suddenly lifted, he snatched a bowie knife fromhis pocket and dashed for the man who had insulted him.

  From every direction rose the shouts and cries of the excited House.

  "Stop him!"

  "Hold him!"

  "Great God!"

  "Judge--Judge!"

  The wildest uproar followed. Half a dozen members threw themselves onthe old man, dragged him to the floor, pinned him down and wrested theknife from his grasp.

  When the eloquent gentleman from Tennessee saw that his assailant wasdisarmed and safely guarded by six stalwart men he struck an attitude,expanded his chest, smote it with both hands and exclaimed withmelodramatic gusto:

  "I defy the steel of the assassin!"

  The House burst into shouts of uncontrollable laughter, and adjournedfor the night.

  Another scene of more tragic violence occurred in the Senate--a hand tohand fight between William L. Yancey and Ben Hill. The Senator fromGeorgia threw his antagonist across a desk, held him there in a grip ofsteel and pounded his face until dragged away by friends. Yancey's spinewas wrenched in the struggle, and it was rumored that this injury causedhis death. It possibly hastened the end already sure from age, diseaseand careless living.

  Committees from this assembly of law makers who attempted to instructthe conscientious, hard-working man of genius the Southern people hadmade their President found little comfort in their efforts.

  Davis received them with punctilious ceremony. His manners were alwaysthose of a gentleman--but he never allowed them to return to theironerous work in the Debating Society without a clear idea of his views.They were never expressed with violence. But the ice sometimes formed onthe window panes if he stood near while talking.

  A Congressional Committee were demanding the restoration of Beauregardto command.

  "General Beauregard asked me to relieve him, gentlemen--"

  "Only on furlough for illness," interrupted the Chairman.

  "And you have forced him into retirement!" added a member.

  The President rose, walked to the window, gazed out on the crowdedstreet for a moment and turned, suddenly confronting his tormentors. Hespoke with quiet dignity, weighing each word with cold precision:

  "If the whole world asked me to restore General Beauregard to thecommand which I have given to Braxton Bragg, I would refuse." He resumedhis seat and the Committee retired to Senator Barton's house where theyfound a sympathetic ear.

  Bragg was preparing to fight one of the greatest battles of the war. AtChickamauga, the "River of Death," he encountered Rosecrans. At the endof two days of carnage the Union army was totally routed, right, left,and center and hurled back from Georgia into Chattanooga. Polk's wingcaptured twenty-eight pieces of artillery and Longstreet's twenty-one.Eight thousand prisoners of war were taken, fifteen thousand stand ofarms and forty regimental colors.

  Rosecrans' army of eighty thousand men was literally cut to pieces byBragg's fifty thousand Southerners. No more brilliant achievement ofmilitary genius illumines history. Chickamauga was in every way asdesperate a battle as Arcola--and in all Napoleon's Italian campaignsnothing more daring and wonderful was accomplished by the Man ofDestiny.

  Bragg had justified the faith of Davis. Rosecrans was hemmed in inChattanooga, his supplies cut off and his army facing starvation when hewas relieved of his command, Thomas succeeding him. Grant was hurried toChattanooga with two army corps to raise the siege.

  With his reenforcements Grant raised the siege, surprised and defeatedBragg's army which had been weakened by the detachment of Longstreet'scorps for a movement on Knoxville.

  Bragg withdrew his army again into Georgia and resigned his command. Thestern, irritable Confederate fighter was disgusted with the constantattacks on him by peanut politicians and refused to hear Davis' pleathat he remain at the head of the Western army. The President called himto Richmond and made him his Chief of Staff.

  The disaster to the Confederacy at Chattanooga which gave General Grantsupreme command of the Union forces, brought to the Johnston junta atRichmond its opportunity to once more press their favorite to the front.Since his Vicksburg fiasco the President had isolated him. Davisresisted this appointment with deep foreboding of its possible disasterto the South.

  In the midst of this bitter struggle over the selection of a WesternField Commander, the President of the Confederacy received the firstand only recognition of his Government accorded by any European power.

  His early education at the St. Thomas Monastery had given the Southernleader a lofty opinion of the Roman Catholic Church. Davis had alwaysseen in the members of this faith in America friends who could not bealienate
d from the oppressed.

  Failing to receive recognition from the great powers of Europe, hedispatched his diplomatic representative to Rome with a carefully wordedletter to the Pope in which he expressed his gratitude to Pius IX forhis efforts in behalf of peace. The Pope had urged his bishops in NewOrleans and New York to strive to end the war.

  The Vatican received the Confederate diplomat with every mark ofcourtesy and every expression of respect accorded the most powerfulnations of the world. The Dominican friars had not forgotten thewistful, eager boy they had taught, and loved in Kentucky.

  The Pope replied to this communication in an official letter whichvirtually recognized the Confederacy--both in his capacity as a temporalsovereign and as the head of the Roman Catholic Church.

  The President read this letter with renewed hope of favorable actionabroad.

  "ILLUSTRIOUS AND HONORABLE PRESIDENT:

  "Salutation:

  "We have just received with all suitable welcome the persons sent by you to place in our hands your letter dated twenty-third of September last.

  "Not slight was the pleasure we experienced when we learned from those persons and the letter, with what feelings of joy and gratitude you were animated, illustrious and honorable President, as soon as you were informed of our letters to our venerable brother John, Archbishop of New York, and John, Archbishop of New Orleans, dated the eighteenth of October of last year, and in which we have with all our strength excited and exhorted these venerable brothers, that in their episcopal piety and solicitude, they should endeavor, with the most ardent zeal, and in our name, to bring about the end of the fatal civil war which has broken out in those countries, in order that the American people may obtain peace and concord, and dwell charitably together.

  "It is particularly agreeable to us to see that you, illustrious and honorable President, and your good people, are animated with the same desire of peace and tranquillity which we have in our letters inculcated upon our venerable brothers. May it please God at the same time to make the other people of America and their ruler, reflecting seriously how terrible is civil war, and what calamities it engenders, listen to the inspiration of a calm spirit, and adopt resolutely the part of peace.

  "As for us, we shall not cease to offer up the most fervent prayers to God Almighty that He may pour out upon all the people of America the Spirit and peace and charity, and that He will stop the great evils which afflict them. We at the same time beseech the God of pity to shed abroad upon you the light of His countenance and attach you to us by a perfect friendship.

  "Given at Rome, at St. Peter's, the third of December, 1863, of our Pontificate 18.

  "(Signed) Pius IX."

  The dark hour was swiftly approaching when the South and her leaderwould need the prayers of all God's saints.

  Failing to persuade Bragg to reconsider his resignation, Davis appointedGeneral Hardee as his successor to command the Western army. Hardeedeclared the responsibility was more than he could assume.

  Under the urgent necessity of driving the Union army back from itsposition at Chattanooga and heartsick with eternal wrangling of theopposition, Davis reluctantly ordered Joseph E. Johnston personally toassume command of the Army of Tennessee--and the fatal deed was done.