CHAPTER VIII
THE STORM CENTER
Socola hastened, through Jennie, to cultivate the acquaintance ofSenator Davis.
"You'll be delighted with Mrs. Davis, too," the girl informed him withenthusiasm. "His second love affair you know--this time, late in life,he married the young accomplished granddaughter of Governor Howell ofNew Jersey. Their devotion is beautiful--"
The train had barely pulled out of the station before Socola foundhimself in a delightful conversation with the Senator. To his amazementhe discovered that the Southerner was a close student of Europeanstatesmanship and well informed on the conditions of modern Italy.
"I am delighted beyond measure, Signor," he said earnestly, "to learn ofthe interest of your King in the South. I have long felt that Cavour wasone of the greatest statesmen and diplomats of the world. Hisachievement in establishing the Kingdom of Sardinia in the face of thebitter rivalries and ambitions of Europe, to say nothing of the power ofRome, was in itself enough to mark him as the foremost man of his age."
"The King has great ambitions, Senator. Very shortly his title will beKing of Italy. He dreams of uniting all Italians."
"And if it is possible, the Piedmontese are the people ordained forleadership in that sublime work--"
He looked thoughtfully out of the window at the Virginia hills andSocola determined to change the conversation. He was fairly wellinformed of the affairs in the little Kingdom on whose throne youngVictor Emmanuel sat, but this man evidently knew the philosophy of itshistory as well as the facts. A question or two with his keen eye boringthrough him might lead to an unpleasant situation.
"Your family are all with you, Senator?" he asked pleasantly.
Instantly the clouds lifted from the pale, thoughtful face.
"Yes--I've three darling babies. I wish you to meet Mrs. Davis--come,they are in the next car."
In a moment the statesman had forgotten the storm of revolution. He waslaughing and playing with his children. However stern and high hisuncompromising opinions might be on public questions, he was wax in thehands of the two lovely boys who climbed over him and the vivaciouslittle girl who slipped her arms about his neck. His respite from carewas brief. At the first important stop in Virginia a dense crowd hadpacked the platforms. Their cries throbbed with anything but the spiritof delay and compromise.
"Davis!"
"Hurrah for Jefferson Davis!"
"Speech--speech!"
"Davis!"
"Speech!"
There was something tense and compelling in the tones of these cries.They rang as bugle calls to battle. In their hum and murmur there wasmore than curiosity--more than the tribute of a people to their leader.There was in the very sound the electric rush of the first crash of theapproaching storm. The man inside who had led soldiers to death onbattle fields felt it instantly and the smile died on his thin lips. Theroar outside his car window was not the cry of a mob echoing thesentiments of a leader. It was the shrill imperial cry of a risingpeople creating their leaders.
From the moment he bowed his head and lifted his hand over the crowdthat greeted him, hopeless sorrow filled his soul.
War was inevitable.
These people did not realize it. But he saw it now in all its tragicimport. He had intended to counsel patience, moderation and delay.Before the hot breath of the storm he felt already in his face suchadvice was a waste of words. He would tell them the simple truth. Hecould do most good in that way. These fiery, impulsive Southern peoplewere tired of argument, tired of compromise, tired of delay. They werereared in the faith that their States were sovereign. And theseVirginians had good reason for their faith. The bankers of Europe hadbut yesterday refused to buy the bonds of the United States Governmentunless countersigned by the State of Virginia!
These people not only believed in the sovereignty of their States andtheir right to withdraw from the Union when they saw fit, but they couldnot conceive the madness of the remaining States attempting to use forceto hold them. They knew, too, that millions of Northern voters were asclear on that point as the people of the South.
Their spokesman, Horace Greeley, in _The Tribune_ had said again andagain:
"If the Southern States are mad enough to withdraw from the Union, theymust go. We cannot prevent it. Let our erring sisters go in peace."
The people before him believed that Horace Greeley's paper representedthe North in this utterance. Davis knew that it was not true.
In a flash of clear soul vision he saw the inevitable horror of thecoming struggle and determined to tell the people so.
The message he delivered was a distinct shock. He not only told them intones of deep and tender emotion that war was inevitable, but that itwould be long and bloody.
"We'll lick 'em in two months!" a voice yelled in protest and the crowdcheered.
The leader shook his fine head.
"Don't deceive yourselves, my friends. War once begun, no man canpredict its end--"
"It won't begin!" another cried.
"You have convinced me to-day that it is now inevitable."
"The Yankees won't fight!" shouted a big fellow in front.
The speaker bent his gaze on the stalwart figure in remonstrance.
"You never made a worse mistake in your life, my friend. I warn you--Iknow these Yankees. Once in it they'll fight with grim, dogged, sullen,unyielding courage. We're men of the same blood. They live North, youSouth--that's all the difference."
At every station the same scene was enacted. The crowd rushed around hiscar with the sudden sweep of a whirlwind, and left for their homes withgrave, thoughtful faces.
By three o'clock in the afternoon he was thoroughly exhausted by thestrain. The eager crowds had sapped his last ounce of vitality.
The conductor of the train looked at him with pity and whispered:
"I'll save you at the next station."
The leader smiled his gratitude for the sympathy but wondered how itcould be done.
At the next stop, the Senator had just taken his position on the rearplatform, lifted his hand for silence and said:
"Friends and fellow citizens--"
The engine suddenly blew off steam with hiss and roar and when it ceasedthe train pulled out with a jerk amid the shouts and protests of thecrowd. The grateful speaker waved his hand in regretful but happyfarewell.
The conductor repeated the trick for three stations until the exhaustedspeaker had recovered his strength and then allowed him a few briefremarks at each stop.
From the moment the train entered the State of Mississippi, grim,earnest men in groups of two, three, four and a dozen stepped on board,saluted their Chief and took their seats.
When the engine pulled into the station at Jackson a full brigade ofvolunteer soldiers had taken their places in the ranks.
The Governor and state officials met their leader and grasped his hand.
"You have been commissioned, Senator," the Governor began eagerly, "asMajor-General in command of the forces of the State of Mississippi. FourBrigadier-Generals have been appointed and await your assignment forduty."
The tall figure of the hero of Buena Vista suddenly stiffened.
"I thank you. Governor, for the high honor conferred on me. No servicecould be more congenial to my feelings at this moment."
The Governor waved his hand at the crowd of silent waiting men. "Yourmen are ready--the first question is the purchase of arms. I think astand of 75,000 will be sufficient for all contingencies?"
The Senator spoke with emphasis:
"The limit of your purchases should be our power to pay--"
"You can't mean it!" the Governor exclaimed.
"I repeat it--the limit of your purchase of arms should be the power topay. I say this to every State in the South. We shall need all we canget and many more I fear."
The Governor laughed.
"General, you overrate our risks!"
"On the other hand," Davis continued earnestly, "we are sure toundere
stimate them at every turn."
He paused, overcome with emotion.
"A great war is impending, Governor, whose end no man can foresee. Weare not prepared for it. We have no arms, we have no ammunition and wehave no establishments to manufacture them. The South has never realizedand does not now believe that the North will fight her on the issue ofsecession. They do not understand the silent growth of the power ofcentralization which has changed the opinions of the North under theteaching of Abolition fanatics--"
Again he paused, overcome.
"God help us!" he continued. "War is a terrible calamity even when wagedagainst aliens and strangers--our people are mad. They know not whatthey do!"
The new Commander hurried to Briarfield, his plantation home, tocomplete his preparations for a long absence.
Socola on a sudden impulse asked the honor of accompanying him. It wasgranted without question and with cordial hospitality.
It was an opportunity not to be lost. An intimate view of this man inhis home might be of the utmost importance. He promised Jennie to hastento Fairview when he had spent two days at Briarfield. Mrs. Barton wasglad of the opportunity to set her house in order for her charming andinteresting guest.
The Davis plantation was a distinct shock to his fixed New England ideasof the hellish institution of Slavery.
The devotion of these simple black men and women to their master was notonly genuine, it was pathetic. He had never before conceived the abjectdepths to which a human being might sink in contentment with chains.
And he had come to break chains! These poor ignorant blacks kissed thehand that bound them and called him their best friend.
The man they called master actually moved among them, a minister of loveand mercy. He advised the negroes about the care of their families inhis long absence. He talked as a Hebrew Patriarch to his children. Heurged the younger men and women to look after the old and helpless.
He was particularly solicitous about Bob, the oldest man on the place.Over and over again he enumerated the comforts he thought he might needand made provision to supply them. He sent him enough cochineal flannelfor his rheumatism to wrap him four-ply deep. For Rhinah, his wife, heordered enough flannel blankets for two families.
"Is there anything else you can think of, Uncle Bob?" he asked kindly.
The old man scratched his gray head and hesitated, looked into hismaster's face, smiled and said:
"I _would_ like one er dem rockin' cheers outen de big house, MarseJeff.--yassah!"
"Of course, you shall have it. Come right up, you and Rhinah, and pickout the two you like best."
With suppressed laughter Socola watched the old negroes try each chairin the hallway and finally select the two best rockers in the house.
The Southern leader was obviously careworn and unhappy. Socola found hisheart unconsciously going out to him in sympathy.
Assuming carefully his attitude of foreign detached interest, the youngman sought to draw him out.
"You have given up all hope of adjustment and reunion with the North?"he asked.
"No," was the thoughtful reply, "not until the first blood is spilled."
"Your people must see, Senator, that secession will imperil theexistence of their three thousand millions of dollars invested inslaves?"
"Certainly they see it," was the quick answer. "Slavery can neversurvive the first shot of war, no matter which side wins. If the Northwins, we must free them, or else maintain a standing army on our bordersfor all time. It would be unthinkable. Rivers are bad boundaries. Wecould have no others. Fools have said and will continue to say that weare fighting to establish a slave empire. Nothing could be further fromthe truth. We are seeking to find that peace and tranquillity outsidethe Union we have not been able to enjoy for the past forty yearsinside. If the Southern States enact a Constitution of their own, theywill merely reaffirm the Constitution of their fathers with no essentialchange. The North is leading a revolution, not the South.
"Not one man in twenty down here owns a slave. The South would neverfight to maintain Slavery. We know that it is doomed. We simply demandas the sons of the men who created this Republic, equal rights under itslaws. If we fight, it will be for our independence as freemen that wemay maintain those rights."
"I must confess, sir," Socola replied with carefully modulated voice,"that I fail to see as a student from without, why, if Slavery is doomedand your leaders realize that fact, a compromise without bloodshedwould not be possible?"
"If Slavery were the only issue, it would be possible--although as aproud and sensitive people we propose to be the judge of the time whenwe see fit to emancipate our slaves. Abolition fanatics, whose fatherssold their slaves to us, can't dictate to the South on such a _moral_issue."
"I see--your pride is involved."
"Not merely pride--our self-respect. In 1831 before the NorthernAbolitionists began their crusade of violence there were one hundredfour abolition societies in America--ninety-eight of them in the Southand only six in the entire North. But the South grew rich. At the bottomof our whole trouble lies the issue of sectional power. New Englandthreatened to secede from the Union when we added the Territory ofLouisiana to our domain, out of which we have carved seven great States.Slavery at that time was not an issue. Sectional rivalry and sectionalhatred antedates even our fight against England for our freedom.Washington was compelled to warn his soldiers when they entered NewEngland to avoid the appearance of offense. The Governor ofMassachusetts refused to call on George Washington, the first Presidentof the Union, when he visited Boston.
"And mark you, back of the sectional issue looms a vastly biggerone--whether the Union is a Republic of republics or a CentralizedEmpire. The millions of foreigners who have poured into the North fromEurope during the past thirty years, until their white populationoutnumbers ours four to one, know nothing and care nothing about theConstitution of our fathers. They know nothing and care nothing for theprinciples on which the Federal Union was founded. They came fromempires. They think as their fathers thought in Europe. And they aredriving the sons of the old Revolution in the North into the acceptanceof the ideas of centralized power. If this tendency continues thePresident of the United States will become the most autocratic ruler ofthe world. The South stands for the sovereignty of the States as theonly bulwark against the growth of this irresponsible centralizeddespotism. The Democratic party of the North, thank God, yet stands withus on that issue. Our only possible hope of success in case of war liesin this fact--"
Socola suddenly started.
"Quite so--I see--The North may be divided, the South will be a unit."
"Exactly; they'll fight as one man if they must."
The longer Socola talked with this pale, earnest, self-poised man, thedeeper grew the conviction of his utter sincerity, his singleness ofpurpose, his pure and lofty patriotism. His conception of the man andhis aims had completely changed and with this change of estimate camethe deeper conviction of the vastness of the tragedy toward which theNation was being hurled by some hidden, resistless power. He had comeinto the South with a sense of moral superiority and the consciousnessnot only of the righteousness of his cause but the certainty that Godwould swiftly confound the enemies of the Union. He had waked with ashock to the certainty that they were entering the arena of themightiest conflict of the century.
He girded his soul anew for the role he had chosen to play. Thecharacter of this Southern leader held for him an endless fascination.It was part of his mission to study him and he lost no opportunity. Thegreatest surprise he received during his stay was the day of theelection of President at Montgomery. He had expected to be present atthis meeting of the Southern Convention but, hearing that it would beheld behind closed doors, had decided on his visit to Briarfield.
A messenger dashed up to the gate, sprang from his horse, hurried intothe garden, thrust a telegram into the Senator's hand.
He opened it without haste, and read it slowly. His face went white andhe crushed t
he piece of paper with a sudden gesture of despair. For amoment he forgot his guest, his head was raised as if in prayer and fromthe depths came the agonizing cry of a soul in mortal anguish:
"Lord, God, if it be possible let this cup pass from me!"
A moment of dazed silence and he turned to Socola. He spoke as a judgepronouncing his own sentence of death. His voice trembled with despairand his lips twitched with pitiful suffering.
"I have been elected President of the Southern Confederacy!"
He handed the telegram to Socola, who scanned it with thrillinginterest. He had half expected this announcement from the first. What hecould not dream was the remarkable way in which the Southern leaderwould receive it.
"You are a foreigner, Signor. I may be permitted to speak freely to you.You are a man of culture and sympathy and you can understand me. As Godis my judge, I have neither desired nor expected this position. I tookparticular pains to forestall and make it impossible. But it has come. Iam not a politician. I have never stooped to their tricks. I cannot lieand smile and bend to low chicanery. I hate a fool and I cannot hedgeand trim and be all things to all men. I have never been a demagogue.I'm too old to begin. Other men are better suited to this position thanI--"
He paused, overcome. Socola studied him with surprise.
"Permit me to say, sir," he ventured disinterestedly, "that such aspirit is evidence that your people have risen to the occasion and thattheir choice may be an inspiration."
The leader's eye suddenly pierced his guest's.
"God knows what is best. It may be His hand. It may be that I must bowto His will--"
Again he paused and looked wistfully at Socola's youthful face.
"You are young, Signor--you do not know what it is to yield the lastambition of life! I have given all to my country for the past years. Ihave sacrificed health and wealth and every desire of my soul--peace andcontentment here with those I love! When I saw this mighty strugglecoming, I feared a tragic end for my people. I fear it now. The man wholeads her armies will win immortality no matter what the fate of hercause--I've dreamed of this, Signor--but they've nailed me to thecross!"
He called his negroes together and made them an affectionate speech.They responded with deep expressions of their devotion and their faith.With the greatest sorrow of life darkening his soul he left next day forhis inauguration at Montgomery.