by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER XLVI
THE TORTURE
While the prisoner fought to save his reason in the dungeon at FortressMonroe, his wife was denied the right to lift her hand in his defense.No communication was allowed between them except through his jailer.
On arrival in Savannah Mrs. Davis and her children were compelled towalk through the blazing heat the long distance from the wharf uptown,the whole party trudging immigrant fashion through the streets. Hersister carried the baby. Mrs. Davis and the two little boys and Maggiefollowed with parcels, and Robert, her faithful black man, brought upthe rear with the baggage.
The people of Savannah, on learning of their arrival, treated theirprisoners with the utmost kindness. Every home in the city was thrownopen to them. Her children had been robbed of all their clothing exceptwhat they wore. The neighbors hurried in with clothes.
The newspaper of Savannah of the new regime, _The Republican_, publishedand republished with gleeful comments the most sensational accounts ofthe brutal scene of the shackling of Davis. Maggie composed a prayer andtaught her little brothers to repeat it in concert for their grace atthe table morning, noon and night:
"Dear Lord, give our father something he can eat, and keep him strong,and bring him back to us with eyes that can see and in his good senses,to his little children, for Jesus' sake."
Nearly every day the child who composed the prayer was so moved by itsrecital she would run from the table and dry her tears in the next roombefore she could eat.
Hourly scenes of violence increased between the whites and the inflamedblacks. A negro sentinel leveled his gun at little Jeff and threatenedto shoot him for calling him "Uncle." With prayers and tears the mothersent her children away to the home of a friend in Montreal.
A year passed before President Johnson in answer to the wife's desperatepleading permitted her to visit her husband in prison. She arrived fromMontreal on the cold raw morning of May 10, 1866, at four o'clock beforeday. There was no hotel at the fort at that time and the mother wascompelled to sit in the desolate little waiting room with her babywithout a fire until ten o'clock.
General Miles called. His references to her husband were made in amanner which brutally expressed his hatred and contempt. She had beeninformed that his health was in so dangerous a condition that physicianshad despaired of his life.
Miles hastened to say:
"'Davis' is in good health--"
"I can see him at once?" she begged.
"Yes. You understand the terms of your parole that you are to take nodeadly weapons into the prison?"
Suppressing a smile at the unique use of the language which a man of therank of Miles could make she replied quickly:
"I understand. Please arrange that I can see him at once."
Without answering the jailer turned and left the room. In a few minutesan officer appeared who conducted her to the room in Carroll Hall towhich Dr. Cooper had forced Miles to remove the prisoner. Dr. Cooperproved as troublesome to the General as Dr. Craven. In fact a littlemore so. He had a way of swearing when angered which made the Generalnervous. American physicians don't make good politicians when the lifeof a patient is involved.
They were challenged by three lines of sentries, each requiring apassword, ascended a stairway, turned to the right and entered a guardroom where three young officers were sitting. Through the bars of theinner room the wife gazed at her husband with streaming eyes.
His body had shrunk to a skeleton, his eyes set and glassy, his cheekbones pressing against the shining skin. He rose and tottered across theroom, his breath coming in short gasps, his voice scarcely audible.
Mrs. Davis was locked in with him. She sent the baby back to herquarters by Frederick, another faithful negro servant who had followedtheir fortunes through good report and evil.
His room had a horse bucket for water, a basin and pitcher on an oldchair whose back had been sawed off, a little iron bedstead with hardmattress, one pillow, a wooden table, and a wooden chair with one legshorter than the others which might be used as an improvised rocker. Hisbed was so thick with bugs the room was filled with their odor. He wasso innocent of such things he couldn't imagine what distressed him so atnight--insisting that he had contracted some sort of skin disease.
His dinner was brought slopped from one dish to another and covered by agray hospital towel sogged with the liquids. The man of fastidious tasteglanced at the platter and saw that the good doctor's wife had addedoysters to his menu that day and ate one. His vitality was so low eventhis gave him intense pain.
He was not bitter, but expressed his quiet contempt for the systematicpetty insults which his jailer was now heaping on him daily. Hisphysician had demanded that he take exercise in the open air. Milesalways walked with him and never permitted an occasion of this kind topass without directing at his helpless prisoner personal insults sooffensive that Davis always cut his walks short to be rid of histormentor. On one occasion the general was so brutal in his conversationafter he had locked his prisoner in his room that he suddenly sprang atthe bars, grasped them with his trembling, skeleton hands and cried:
"But for these you should answer to me--here and now!"
A favorite pastime of his jailer was to admit crowds of vulgarsightseers and permit them to gaze at his prisoner.
A woman inquired of Frederick, who was on his way to his room:
"Where's Jeff?"
The negro bowed gravely and drew his stalwart figure erect:
"I am sorry, madame, not to be able to tell you. I do not know any suchperson."
"Yes, you do--aren't you his servant?"
"No, madame, you are mistaken. I have the honor to serve ex-PresidentDavis."
Only a great soul can command the love and respect of servants as didthis quiet grave statesman of the old regime.
Never during the long hours of these weeks and months of torture did helose his dignity or his lofty bearing quail before his tormentor. He wastoo refined and dignified to be abusive, and too proud in General Miles'delicate phraseology to "beg."
The loving wife began now her desperate fight to nurse him back intolife again.
The new Commandant of the fort, General Burton, who replaced Miles,proved himself a gentleman and a soldier of the old school. Heimmediately gave to the prisoner every courtesy possible and to his wifesympathy and help.
The Bishop of Montreal sent him a case of green chartreuse from his ownstores. This powerful digestive stimulant helped his feeble appetite totake the nourishment needed to sustain life and slowly build hisstrength.
He could sleep only when read to, and many a day dawned on the wornfigure of his wife still droning her voice into his sensitive ears, withone hand on his pulse praying God it might still beat. At times itstopped, and then she roused the sleeper, gave him the stimulant andmade him eat something which she always kept ready. Dr. Cooper hadwarned that the walls of his heart were so weak even a sound sleep mightprove his death if too long continued.