“Gentlemen — do any of you have any urgent business that we need to hear before we get to the substance of the meeting?”
“Need more money in the Treasury,” Memminger said, and there was a murmur of laughter. The Treasury was always short of funds.
“Any other?” Davis asked, and the rest of the Cabinet members shook their heads. “Good. Then to the matter of the proposed bill. The North has given us certain assurances that we must consider deeply before we think of the assurances that we must give in return. There must be the end of all abolitionist attacks and propaganda. That is essential.”
“Not only essential, but vital,” Bragg said. “Particularly when we try to persuade the planters to sell their slaves.”
“I agree…”
Davis broke off as the door to the hallway was swung open so hard that it crashed against the wall. Leroy P. Walker, the former Secretary of War stormed in. Davis had dismissed the tall Alabaman from his Cabinet and in doing so had made an enemy for life.
“This is a private meeting and you are not welcome here,” Davis said.
“Of course it’s private ’cause you and the other traitors are trying to sell the South down the river like some ol’ nigger woman.”
“How do you know what we are doing here?” Davis said, mouth tight with cold anger.
“I know because at least one of you ain’t a traitor and told me what you were planning.”
“Walker — you are no longer a member of this chamber and you are not wanted here,” Mallory shouted, jumping to his feet and striding forward.
“Maybe I ain’t — but you going to hear what I say first. Now — stand clear!” Walker shouted as he stepped aside quickly so his back was to the wall. “Now you listen while I speak — and listen good.”
He took a long cavalry pistol from inside his jacket and pointed it at them.
Seddon spoke slowly and calmly in his deep Virginia accent. “Put that away, Leroy. This is the Conference Chamber of the Confederacy and not some white trash saloon.”
“You hush and listen to me — ”
“No!” Mallory shouted, lunging forward and grabbing him by the arms.
They struggled, cursing, and the gun fired with a muffled crack.
“Shot me…” Mallory said weakly and he fell to the floor.
Jefferson Davis had the table drawer open and was taking out his pistol.
Walker saw the movement, turned and fired. Just as Davis pulled the trigger of his own gun.
There was stunned silence after the two shots; gunsmoke drifted across the chamber. Walker lay dead on the floor with a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
They rushed to Davis, stretched him on the floor. His eyes were closed and his jacket was soaked with blood. Reagan opened an immense clasp knife and cut his shirt and jacket away. The bullet had entered his chest just below his shoulder blade and was oozing blood.
“Use this,” Seddon said, taking a large white kerchief from his tailcoat pocket; Reagan pushed it against the wound.
“Will someone go for the surgeon!”
Davis sighed and opened his eyes, looked up at the men grouped around him. “Walker…?” he asked weakly.
“Dead,” Judah Benjamin said, kneeling at his side. “Memminger has gone for the doctor.”
Jefferson Davis looked up at the circle of worried men. They had to carry on, finish the work that he had begun. Good men all of them, supporters and friends. Some not too bright, some very bigoted. Who could he rely on? His eyes stopped moving and rested on the rotund figure and concerned face of Judah P. Benjamin. The brightest of the lot. The peacemaker. Would he be able to work for the greater peace of the country?
“Take care of things, Judah,” Davis said, trying to sit up. “You are the one who can sow accord — and you are the brainiest one here. See that this war is ended and peace is made.” He raised his voice a bit. “Have you all heard me? Do you agree with me?” One by one they nodded in silence as he looked around the circle. “Then the matter is settled. I have faith in Judah Benjamin and you must have too…” His eyes closed and he dropped back to the floor.
“Is he… dead?” someone asked in a hushed voice. Benjamin leaned his head close to Davis’s mouth.
“Breathing still. Where is that doctor?”
Two days later Judah P. Benjamin rose to speak before the assembled Congress of the Confederacy. He had studied Jefferson Davis’s speech, improved it where he could, made sure that all of the proposals were outlined in the greatest detail. Now he must read it with the greatest sincerity. The Congressmen must be convinced.
“You all know what occurred at the fated meeting of the Cabinet. Two men dead, Jefferson Davis wounded, possibly mortally. His last conscious words were for me to speak for him, and I do that now. He asked me to read this proposed speech and do my utmost to convince you all that this is the wisest and sanest course to follow.
“As all gathered here know, the Congress of the United States has agreed to reunite this country in a manner that will be satisfactory to all and repellent to none. You all will have read the bill and pondered on its significance. If we here, in Congress assembled, agree upon its merits we will declare, in essence, that the War between the States is over. Brother will no longer kill brother.
“In all this wretched struggle it is mournful to reflect that the real difficulties spring more from the selfish passions of men rather than from the necessities of the case. In border states slavery is already declining from natural causes. If only intemperate and too often unprincipled abolitionist agitation of the subject for electioneering purposes in the North would stop, slavery in the border states would disappear in five years. The President of the United States has assured me that it will.
“War causation tends to be explained in terms of great forces. Something elemental is supposed to be at work. It is not. People stumble into war for many reasons — some of which they are not even aware of. Now a war that has occupied us has ended by the invasion by a more threatening enemy.
“This war that is now suspended by a cease-fire was not started by slavery or anti-slavery, states rights or Lincoln’s election or slavery in Kansas. If you wish to take one word to explain it it would be none of these. It would be fanaticism — on both sides — misunderstanding, misrepresentation, or even politics.
“I therefore ask you to take action on the proposal of the United States Congress. I ask you to look into your hearts and seek agreement. How you decide here will affect thousands alive, millions still unborn. Your decision will essentially end this Confederate Congress, but it will also see the rebirth of a wounded country. We will sit side by side with our brothers from the North to save these United States from a greater threat. Do not forget that in our hour of peril they came to our aid. They were not asked, they volunteered. With their aid — and the deaths of their soldiers — a blood pact was signed that Biloxi would be avenged. And so it has been. Let us seize on this fact and remember it — and try not to dwell upon the war that has now been put aside by armistice. Let us search our hearts and find an honorable way to extend that armistice and put the war behind us. I formally request you all to vote to accept the proposals put forward by the Congress of the United States.”
There was no overt reaction when Judah Benjamin stopped speaking. There was a mutter of comment, then one voice louder than the others broke through.
“Judah Benjamin you are a damned Judas — like the other Jew who betrayed our savior — selling out your birthright, your friends and family, your country — for damn Yankee promises.” It was Lawrence M. Keitt, the fire-eating Congressman from South Carolina, a slaveholder, very rich and very sure of the right of his cause.