The Victim: A Romance of the Real Jefferson DavisDixon, Thomas, Jr.
History
The Victim: A Romance of the Real Jefferson Davis
Dixon, Thomas, Jr.
Davis, Jefferson, 1808-1889 -- Fiction; Historical fiction, American; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Waal, thar ain't nothin' in them lies about his wife--"
The Major lifted his hand and moved closer:
"There's just enough truth at the bottom of it all to give the liars the
chance they need to talk forever--"
"I never knowed thar wuz ary grain er truth in hit, at all--"
"There is, though," the Major interrupted, "and that's where we're going
to have a big fight on our hands when it comes to the rub. This Lewis
Robards, her first husband, was a quarrelsome cuss. Every man that
looked at his wife, he swore was after her, and if she lifted her eyes,
he was sure she was guilty. There was no divorce law in Virginia and
Robards petitioned the Legislature to pass an Act of Divorce in his
favor. The dog swore in this petition that his wife had deserted him and
was living with Andrew Jackson. He _was_ boarding with her mother, the
widow Donelson. The Legislature passed the Act, but it only authorized
the Courts of the Territory of Kentucky to try the case, and grant the
divorce if the facts were proven.
"Robards never went to Court with it for over two years, and Jackson,
under the impression that the Legislature had given the divorce, married
Rachel Robards at Natchez in August, 1791.
"Two years later, the skunk slips into Court and gets his divorce!
"As quick as Old Hickory heard this, he married her over again. There
was a mighty hullabaloo kicked up about it by the politicians. They
tried to run Jackson out of the country--the little pups who were afraid
of him. He challenged the leader of this pack of hounds, and shot him
dead--"
"Served him right, too," broke in the Tennesseean, removing his pipe,
with a nod of his shaggy head.
"But it don't help him on the way to Washington!" The Major grunted,
suddenly rising and dismissing the subject for the night.
The Boy's curiosity was kindled to see the great man whose name had
filled the world.
The distance to Nashville was quickly covered. The Major pressed
straight through the town without pause and drew rein at the General's
gate.
The welcome they received from their distinguished host was so simple,
so genuine, so real, the Boy's heart went out in loyal admiration.
The house was a big rambling structure of logs, in front of which stood
a stately grove of magnificent forest trees. Behind it stretched the
grain and cotton fields.
Nothing could surpass the unaffected and perfect courtesy with which the
General welcomed his guests. The tall, stately figure, moving with the
unconscious grace of perfect manhood, needed no rules of a dancing
master for his guidance. He had sprung from the common people, but he
was a born leader and ruler of men.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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