The offer repeated.
The next day Judge Chilton and Colin McRea, of the Alabama delegation, called for the same purpose. Their shadows had hardly left Stephens' door, when Keitt, of South Carolina, and Mr. Toombs made their appearance—at least Toombs didn't make his appearance. He sat out in the passageway, and when I let Keitt in Toombs put his finger to his lips and shook his head. Well, Keitt talked and talked and talked. I never knew a man who could beat Keitt talking. “You are the preference of the South Carolina delegation for President, Mr. Stephens, and I am sent to ask if you will serve if elected?” was what it all amounted to. Mr. Stephens listened thoughtfully to all he had to say. When Keitt stopped, waiting for his reply, there was a moment's silence. I don't believe I ever was more anxious in my life. I knew what Mr. Stephens' inclination was, and I had heard his prayer the night after the secession of Georgia. “If I am the unanimous choice of the delegates, as well as the States, and can organize a cabinet with such concert of [144] ideas and ability as will justify the hope of success, I will take it,” said he, “But on no other conditions.” Mr. Keitt left satisfied, and Mr. Toombs was jubilant. When I returned to the room Mr. Stephens was smoking. At the time Montgomery was full to overflowing. Besides the accredited delegates from the six seceding States, there were many politicians and delegates—unofficial, of course—from Virginia, from Maryland, from North Carolina, Texas, Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri and Arkansas. All represented the radical secessionists of their States, and all were rabid for war. We knew what work had to be done, but Mr. Stephens never opened his lips. Never once was the matter mentioned between us. On the evening of February 8th, after the adoption of the Constitution, a motion was made to go into the election of the chief officers. Somebody, I forget who, moved that the election should take place the next day at 12 o'clock, and in the meantime the delegations should consult separately. That was decided on and the meeting adjourned. We had hardly reached our hotel when in walked Toombs and Keitt, followed by Judge Chilton, Willy Harris, General Sparrow and Henry Marshall, of Louisiana; Morton and Owen, of Florida, and the whole Georgia delegation. Toombs was the spokesman, and I never saw him in a better humor or looking handsomer. “Alec,” said he, “you are the choice of every man in Congress, and all of us are ready to pledge ourselves to help you form your cabinet. There is only one point—those fellows from Virginia and the border States want you to promise to strike the first blow.” For a moment there was perfect silence. I believe every man in the room held his breath. Mr. Stephens made no reply and Mr. Toombs went on. “Those fellows say their States are hanging in the balance, ready to turn with the first blow. They know Buchanan will never dare to strike us; they believe Lincoln will be as cowardly.” “Now they want the question settled in their States, and they want you to promise when the first opportunity offers, say if [145] the Administration should attempt to reinforce or provision Sumter, you will strike the first blow.” For about two heartbeats they faced, that magnificent specimen of manhood and that fragile, emaciated little man.
