The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1879-08-14
How MIR. Davis was Put in Chains.

How Mr.. Davis was Put In ChalnS'
On the morning of the 23d of May, q
bitter trial was in store for the proud
spirit-a trial severer probably, than has
ever in modern times been inflicted upon
any who had enjoyed such eminence.
This morning Jefferson Davis was shac-
keled.
It was while all the swarming
camps of the armies of the Potomac,
hundred thousand bronzed and lau-
relied veterans-were preparing for the
grand review of the next morning, IN
which, passing in endless succession be-
fore the mansion of the President, the
conquering military power of the nation
was to lay down its arms at the feet OF
the civil authority, that the following
scene was enacted at Fort Monroe:
Capt. Jerome E. Titlow, of the Third
Pennsylvania Artillery, entered the pris-.
oner's cell, followed by the blacksmith of
the fort and his assistant, the latter car
rying in his hands some heavy and
harshly rattling shackles. AS they en-
tered, Mr.. Davis was reclining on his
bed, feverish and weary, after sleepless
night, the food placed near him the pre-
ceding day untouched on his tin plate
near his bedside.
Well? said Mr.. Davis, as they entered,
slightly raising his head.
/ have an unpleasant duty to perform,
sir, said Captain Titlow; and as he spoke
the senior blacksmith took the shackles
from his assistant.
Davis leaped instantly from his recum-
bent attitude, q flush passing over his
face for moment, and then his counten-
ance growing as ivid and rigid as death.
He gasped for breath, clutching his
throat with the thin fingers of his right
hand, and then recovering himself slowly,
while his wasted figure lowered up to its
full height-now appearing to swell with
indignation and then to shrink with ter
ror, as he glanced from the Captains
face to the shackles-he said slowly and
with a laboring chest:
NY God! You cannot have been sent
to iron me?
Such are my orders, sir, replied the
officer, beckoning the Blacksmith to ap-
proach, who stepped forward, unlocking
the paddock and preparing the fetters to
do their Office. These fetters were of
heavy iron, probably fve-eights of an
inch in thickness, and connected together
by chain of like weight. Ibelieve they
are now in the possession of Major Cen
eral Miles, and will form an interesting
relic.
This is too monstrous, groaned the
prisoner, glaring hurriedly round the
room, as if fer some weapon, or means
of sell. destruction. I demand, Captain,
that you let me see the commanding Of
fee. Can he pretend that such shackles
are required 10 secure the safe custody of
q weak old man, SO guarded and in such
fort as this?
It would serve to no purpose, replied
Captain Titlow; his orders are from
Washington, as mine are from him:
But he can telegraph, interposed Mr..
Davis, eagerly; there must be some mis-
take. No such outrage as you threaten
me with is on record in the history Of
nations. Beg him to telegraph, and de-
lay until he receives an answer.
My orders are peremptory, said the
officer, and admit of no delay. For your
own sake, let me advise You to submit
with patience. AS soldier, Mr.. Davis,
You know must execute orders.
These are not orders for soldier,
shouted the prisoner, losing all control
of himself. They are orders for jailor
for a hangman, which no soldier, wear
ing q sword should acceptl ! tell you
the world will ring with this disgrace.
The war is over; the South is conquered.
have no longer any country but Amer
lea, and it is for the honor of America,
as for my own honor and life, that l
plead against this degradation. Kill me-
kill me! he cri. ] passionately, throwing
his arms wide open and exposing his
breast, rather than inhict on me and my
people through me this insult, worse than
death.
Do your duty, blacksmith, said the Of
fcer, walking toward the embrasure as if
not caring to witness the performance.
It only gives increased pain on ell sides
to protract this interview.
At these words the blacksmith ad-
vanced with the shackles, and seeing that
the prisoner had one foot upon the chair
near his bedside, his right hand resting
on the back of it, the brawny mechanic
made an attempt to slip one of the shac-
kles over tho ankle so raised but with
the vehemence and power which frenzy
alone can impart, even to the weakest
individual, Mr.. Davis suddenly seized his
assailant and hurled him half way across
the room.
On this Captain Titlow turned, and
seeing that Davis had backed against the
wall for further resistance, began to re-
monstrate, pointing out in brief, clear
language that this course was madness,
and that the order must be enforced at
any cost. Why compel me, he added, to
add the further indignity of personal
violence to the necessity of your being
ironed?
am prisoner of war, fercely retorted
Mr.. Davis; l have been soldier in the
armies of America, and know how to die.
Only kill me, and my last breath shall
be blessing on your head. But while l
have life and strength to resist, for my
self and for my people, this thing shall
not be done.
Hereupon Captain Titlow called in
ScfRedu1 auo uio vi ooiuicio iioln VIC
next room, and the Sergeant advanced
to seize the prisoner. Immediately Mr..
Davis few on him and seized his musket
and attempted to wrench it from his
grasp.
OF course such scene could have but
one issue. There was short, passionate
scufle. In a moment Davis was flung
upon his bed, and before his four power
full assailants removed their hands from
him the blacksmith and his assistant had
done their work-one securing the rivet
on the right ankle while the other turned
the key in the paddock on the left.
This done, Mr.. Davis lay for q moment
as if in stupor. Then slowly raising
himself and turning round, he dropped
his shackled feet to the floor.
The harsh clank of the striking chain