by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER VI
THE GAUGE OF BATTLE
The day of the first meeting of the National Congress after the war wasone of intense excitement. The galleries of the House were packed. Elsiewas there with Ben in a fever of secret anxiety lest the stirring dramashould cloud her own life. She watched her father limp to his seat withevery eye fixed on him.
The President had pursued with persistence the plan of Lincoln for theimmediate restoration of the Union. Would Congress follow the lead of thePresident or challenge him to mortal combat?
Civil governments had been restored in all the Southern States, with menof the highest ability chosen as governors and lawmakers. Theirlegislatures had unanimously voted for the Thirteenth Amendment of theConstitution abolishing slavery, and elected senators and representativesto Congress. Mr. Seward, the Secretary of State, had declared the newamendment a part of the organic law of the Nation by the vote of theseStates.
General Grant went to the South to report its condition and boldlydeclared:
"I am satisfied that the mass of thinking people of the South accept thesituation in good faith. Slavery and secession they regard as settledforever by the highest known tribunal, and consider this decision afortunate one for the whole country."
Would the Southerners be allowed to enter?
Amid breathless silence the clerk rose to call the roll of members-elect.Every ear was bent to hear the name of the first Southern man. Not one wascalled! The Master had spoken. His clerk knew how to play his part.
The next business of the House was to receive the message of the ChiefMagistrate of the Nation.
The message came, but not from the White House. It came from the seat ofthe Great Commoner.
As the first thrill of excitement over the challenge to the Presidentslowly subsided, Stoneman rose, planted his big club foot in the middle ofthe aisle, and delivered to Congress the word of its new master.
It was Ben's first view of the man of all the world just now of mostinterest. From his position he could see his full face and figure.
He began speaking in a careless, desultory way. His tone was loud yet notdeclamatory, at first in a grumbling, grandfatherly, half-humorous,querulous accent that riveted every ear instantly. A sort of drollery of acontagious kind haunted it. Here and there a member tittered inexpectation of a flash of wit.
His figure was taller than the average, slightly bent, with a dignitywhich suggested reserve power and contempt for his audience. One knewinstinctively that back of the boldest word this man might say there was abolder unspoken word he had chosen not to speak.
His limbs were long, and their movements slow, yet nervous as from someinternal fiery force. His hands were big and ugly, and always inungraceful fumbling motion as though a separate soul dwelt within them.
The heaped-up curly profusion of his brown wig gave a weird impression tothe spread of his mobile features. His eagle-beaked nose had threedistinct lines and angles. His chin was broad and bold, and his browsbeetling and projecting. His mouth was wide, marked, and grim; whenopened, deep and cavernous; when closed, it seemed to snap so tightly thatthe lower lip protruded.
Of all his make-up, his eye was the most fascinating, and it held Benspellbound. It could thrill to the deepest fibre of the soul that lookedinto it, yet it did not gleam. It could dominate, awe, and confound, yetit seemed to have no colour or fire. He could easily see it across thevast hall from the galleries, yet it was not large. Two bold, colourlessdagger-points of light they seemed. As he grew excited, they darkened asif passing under a cloud.
A sudden sweep of his huge apelike arm in an angular gesture, and thedrollery and carelessness of his voice were riven from it as by a bolt oflightning.
He was driving home his message now in brutal frankness. Yet in the heightof his fiercest invective he never seemed to strengthen himself or call onhis resources. In its climax he was careless, conscious of power, andcontemptuous of results, as though as a gambler he had staked and lost alland in the moment of losing suddenly become the master of those who hadbeaten him.
His speech never once bent to persuade or convince. He meant to brain theopposition with a single blow, and he did it. For he suddenly took thebreath from his foes by shouting in their faces the hidden motive of whichthey were hoping to accuse him!
"Admit these Southern Representatives," he cried, "and with the Democratselected from the North, within one term they will have a majority inCongress and the Electoral College. The supremacy of our party's life isat stake. The man who dares palter with such a measure is a rebel, atraitor to his party and his people."
A cheer burst from his henchmen, and his foes sat in dazed stupor at hisaudacity. He moved the appointment of a "Committee on Reconstruction" towhom the entire government of the "conquered provinces of the South"should be committed, and to whom all credentials of their pretendedrepresentatives should be referred.
He sat down as the Speaker put his motion, declared it carried, andquickly announced the names of this Imperial Committee with the Hon.Austin Stoneman as its chairman.
He then permitted the message of the President of the United States to beread by his clerk.
"Well, upon my soul," said Ben, taking a deep breath and looking at Elsie,"he's the whole thing, isn't he?"
The girl smiled with pride.
"Yes; he is a genius. He was born to command and yet never could resistthe cry of a child or the plea of a woman. He hates, but he hates ideasand systems. He makes threats, yet when he meets the man who stands forall he hates he falls in love with his enemy."
"Then there's hope for me?"
"Yes, but I must be the judge of the time to speak."
"Well, if he looks at me as he did once to-day, you may have to do thespeaking also."
"You will like him when you know him. He is one of the greatest men inAmerica."
"At least he's the father of the greatest girl in the world, which is farmore important."
"I wonder if you know how important?" she asked seriously. "He is theapple of my eye. His bitter words, his cynicism and sarcasm, are all onthe surface--masks that hide a great sensitive spirit. You can't know withwhat brooding tenderness I have always loved and worshipped him. I willnever marry against his wishes."
"I hope he and I will always be good friends," said Ben doubtfully.
"You must," she replied, eagerly pressing his hand.
