by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER XLVII
VINDICATION
When Socola had finished his work developing the history and characterof Conover and his crew of professional perjurers there was a suddencollapse in the machinery of the Bureau of Military Justice. Holt wascompelled not only to repudiate the wretches by whose hired testimony hehad committed more than one murder through the forms of military law,but also to issue a long document defending himself as Judge AdvocateGeneral of the United States from the charge of subornation ofperjury--the vilest accusation that can be brought against a swornofficer of any court. His weak defense served its purpose for themoment. He managed to cling to his office and his salary for a briefseason. With the advent of restored law he sank into merited oblivion.
The charge of murder having collapsed, the Government now pressedagainst Davis an indictment for treason. Salmon P. Chase, the ChiefJustice of the United States, warned the President and his Cabinet thatno such charge could be sustained.
And still malice held the Confederate Chieftain a prisoner. Every otherleader of the South had long since been released. On the public exposureof Holt and his perjurers the conscience of the North, led by HoraceGreeley and Gerrit Smith, demanded the speedy trial or release of Davis.
The Radical conspirators at Washington, under the leadership of Stevensinspired by his dusky companion, were now pressing with feverish hastetheir programme of revolution. They passed each measure over the veto ofthe President amid jeers, groans and curses. They disfranchisedone-third of the whites of the South, gave the ballot to a millionignorant negroes but yesterday taken from the jungles of Africa, blottedout the civil governments of the Southern States, and sent the army backto enforce their decrees. Stevens introduced his bill to confiscate theproperty of the whites and give it to the negroes. This measure was hispet. It was the only one of his schemes which would be defeated on atwo-thirds vote if Johnson should veto it. Stevens and Butler at oncedrew their bill of indictment against the President and set in motionthe machinery to remove him from office--the grim old leader stillswearing that he would hang him.
In this auspicious moment Charles O'Connor marshaled his forces anddemanded the release of Davis on bail. Andrew Johnson had seen a newlight. He was now in a life and death struggle with the newly enthronedmob to save the Republic from a Dictatorship. The conspirators hadalready selected the man they proposed to set up on his removal fromoffice.
The President issued an order to General Burton at Fortress Monroe toproduce his prisoner in the United States District Court of Richmond.
On May fourth, 1867, the little steamer from the fort touched the wharfat Richmond and Jefferson Davis and his wife once more appeared in theCapital of the Confederacy.
The South had come to greet them.
All differences of opinion were stilled before the white face of the manwho had been put in irons for their sins. They came from the fourcorners of the country for which he had tolled and suffered.
Senator Barton, his wife and daughter and all his surviving sons hadcome from Fairview to do him honor. A vast crowd assembled at the wharf.No king ever entered his palace with grander welcome. The road from thewharf to the Spotswood Hotel was a living sea of humanity. His carriagecouldn't move until the way was forced open by the mounted police. Thewindows and roofs of every house were crowded. Men and women everywherewere in tears. As the carriage turned into Main Street a man shouted:
"Hats off, Virginians!"
Every head was bared in the vast throng which stretched a mile along thethoroughfare. As he passed in triumph, the people for whom he had workedand suffered crowded to his carriage, stretched out their hands insilence and touched his garments while the tears rolled down theircheeks.
They arraigned him for trial on a charge of high treason.
The indictment had also named Robert E. Lee as guilty of the same crime.Grant lifted his mailed fist and told the Government he would fight ifnecessary to protect the man who had surrendered in good faith to hisarmy. The peanut politicians dropped Lee's name.
When the tall, emaciated leader of the South stood erect before hisaccusers in court he faced a scene which proclaimed the advent of thenew Democracy in America which must yet make good its right to live.
On the Judge's bench sat John C. Underwood, a crawling, shambling,shuffling, ignorant demagogue who had set a new standard of judicialhonor and dignity. He had selected one of the handsomest homes inVirginia, ordered it confiscated as a Federal judge, and made his wifebuy it in and convey it to him after warning other bidders to keep offthe scene. The thief was living in his stolen mansion on the day he satdown beside the Chief Justice of the United States in this trial. WhenChase had warned the Government that no charge of treason could standagainst Davis, Underwood assured the Attorney General that he would fixa negro jury in Richmond which could be relied on to give the verdictnecessary. He had impaneled the first grand jury ever assembled inAmerica composed of negroes and whites. A negro petit jury now sat inthe box grinning at the judge, their thick lips, flat noses andomnipotent African odor proclaiming the dawn of a new era in the historyof America.
Salmon P. Chase with quiet dignity voted to quash the indictment.Underwood with a vulgar stump speech to the crowd of negroes voted tohold the indictment good. The case was sent to the Supreme Court on thisdisagreement and the defendant admitted to bail.
Horace Greeley and Gerrit Smith, Cornelius Vanderbilt and AugustusSchell, representing the noblest spirit in the North were among the menwho signed his bail bond.
When he was released and walked out of the court room cheer after cheerswept the struggling crowd that greeted him. Senator Barton took thedriver's place on the box while thousands followed to the hotel shoutingthemselves hoarse. For three hours he stood shaking the hands of weepingmen and women. No sublimer tribute was ever paid to human worth. It camewith healing to his wounded soul. The anguish of the past was as if ithad never been.
Jennie Barton gazed with astonishment when Socola grasped hisoutstretched hand. She was standing near enough to hear his voice.
"I want to thank you, young man," he said gratefully, "for all you'vedone for me and mine. Mr. O'Connor tells me that your services have beeninvaluable. For myself, my wife and babies and my people, I thank youagain. I wish I might do something to repay you--"
"I've only done my duty," was the modest response. "But I think youmight help me a little--"
"If it's within my power--"
"You remember Miss Barton?"
"I've just shaken hands with her--she is here!"
"Would you mind putting in a word--"
"I'll do more, sir--I'm in command to-day. I'll issue positive orders--"
Jennie moved, he saw her and beckoned. She came, blushing.
"What's this, my little comrade?" he whispered, seizing her hands. "Thewar is over. I've shaken hands with Horace Greeley and Gerrit Smithto-day. There can be no stragglers in our camp, I owe my life to thisyoung man."
He took Jennie's hand, placed it on Socola's arm, and he led her silentand blushing from the crowd to an alcove in the far corner of the hall.
She looked up into his face with tenderness.
"You've done a noble and beautiful thing in the gift of your life to ourChief for these two miserable years--"
"They've been miserable to you?"
She smiled.
"But I knew you would come--"
"You'll not send me away again?"
She slowly slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
They stood on the balcony hand in hand and watched the crowds surgingabout the carriage as the tall Chieftain left the hotel to take thetrain to greet his children.
Socola uncovered his head and spoke reverently.
"He belongs to the race of giants who have made our Nation what it isto-day. We owe a debt to the unflinching dignity and honesty of hismind. He made hedging, trimming and compromise impossible--the issueswhich divided us of Life and Death. A weaker man would have wavered an
dwe should have had to fight our battles over again. They have beensettled for all time."
Jennie lifted her eyes to his:
"What's your name, my sweetheart?"
He laughed softly.
"Does it matter now? Our country's one--my name is Love."