From Macon Mr. Davis was sent under guard to Augusta, and from thence on a river tug in company with Clement C. Clay and Alexander H. Stephens, to Port Royal, where they were transferred to a steamer which conveyed them to Fortress Monroe. During the time they were anchored off shore crafts of all descriptions swarmed around, and the insults and gibes of the morbid sight seekers keenly annoyed the illustrious prisoner, and it was a relief when a file of soldiers came to escort him ashore. He requested permission from General Miles for his family to proceed to Washington or Richmond, but this was curtly refused and they were sent back to Savannah. XXX. A Nation's Shame In fortress Monroe, Mr. Davis was confined in a gun room of a casement which was heavily barricaded with iron bars. Two sentries with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets were posted in the room, while two others paced up and down in front of his cell. Escape would have been impossible for any one, however strong and vigorous, and he, now an old man, was weak, feeble and emaciated. Yet on the third day after his incarceration, while the victorious troops of the republic were passing in solemn review before the President and generals of a great nation, there was enacted in that little cell at Fortress Monroe a scene which must forever cause the blush of shame to mantle the brow of every American at its mere mention. A file of soldiers entered the cell and Captain Jerome Titlow, with evident pain and reluctance informed Mr. Davis that he had a most unpleasant duty to perform, which was to place manacles upon him. Mr. Davis demanded who had given such an order, and upon being informed that it was General Miles, asked to see him. This was refused by Captain Titlow, who sought to induce him to submit peaceably to the inevitable. "It is an order which no soldier would give and which none should obey. Shoot me now and end at once this miserable persecution!" At the same time the fallen chieftain drew himself up to his full height and faced the soldiers, his hands clenching in convulsive grasps and his eyes gleaming like those of a hunted tiger driven to bay. A word from Captain Titlow and a soldier with the shackles in hand advanced, but before he could touch the captive he dealt him a blow which felled him upon the floor. Necessarily the struggle was a short one and in a few moments heavy irons were riveted upon his ankles and one of the foremost of living statesmen lay upon a miserable straw mattress chained as though he had been the vilest of desperate criminals.