XXIII

A delegation of Greeks waited patiently at the Athens Depot as the two o' clock train from Corinth arrived twenty minutes late. They included Dr. Licinius Prentiss, Luke Pryor and Branse Havelock. A telegraph from that penultimate Greek, George Smith Houston, had summoned them. He was by then arriving via a long circuitous route. It took him from Montgomery, then west into and then north through Mississippi, and finally east from Corinth. It was an excruciating voyage in the heat of August, but it was the only way. As of yet, there was no railroad linking the Nickajack to the rest of the state. But all that was about to change. The train hove into the station chuffing steam from its brakes. A rather hefty man stepped off wearing a pair of polished balmorals and an ashen broadcloth suit. Most of the hair he had was hanging bosky from his chin. For the figure he cut, he was surprisingly deft on his feet.

 
George "Bourbon Smith" Houston was a tower of Alabama politics even before the war. He had been a professional Democrat politician since the 30's. He had voted for both the Mexican War and for secession, then sat out both wars at home.. He purchased a substitute to avoid conscription, and then brokered the sale of cotton to the Union Army when the Yankees occupied Limestone County. He and the Greeks grew fat off this illicit trade deep in heart of the Confederacy, which increasingly demanded corn just to feed its citizens. Just then he had been milling about the halls of power in Montgomery. He had been working over his well-aged system of patronage, which he cynically called "The Swamp." Principally, he had been whipping up furor against the Governor of Alabama, David P. Lewis, who was a Republican from Huntsville and nicknamed "Beechnut."

 
He looked for supplicants and found them grouped together near the platform, Dr. Prentiss foremost. The party chairman for the County stepped forward very formally to greet his master. George Houston brushed by him as though heading to the horizon, and spoke without greeting or shaking hands. The other Greeks fell in behind.

What the hell is going on here, Licinius, George blurted? I leave for a year in Montgomery trying to drum up support for my gubernatorial campaign, and then I find out we elect a black sheriff in my own backyard!?

Actually, he's white. But yes, he's a Republican. Its Bill Marmaduke.

Bourbon Smith sighed a breathe of relief. Thanks god he's white. But Bill Marmaduke? Goddam, he's popular. A real war hero. He could be a worse threat than Beechnut Lewis. You know what this means? I'm in danger of losing this County at the polls.

 
Indeed we are, said Dr. Prentiss. Strangetown is filling with negroes and white trash, and the Republicans are registering them like a machine. We successfully collapsed the voting precincts to a single registration point here in Athens, but they are just bussing them in from the rural precincts.

 
It was true. A black freeman and carpetbagger named Bartholomew "Barry" Hogan had assumed chairmanship of the Limestone County Republican Party. His credentials were shady, having arrived from Illinois. He was part of the powerful Republican establishment of that state, He was notable for being an influential colored delegate to the 1860 Republican Convention in Chicago that nominated Mr. Lincoln. He arrived in Strangetown and established a headquarters in a front on Strange Street. He got to work by festooning wagons with patriotic bunting. Then he would range them across the county, promising sweets and liquor to bring the formerly disenfranchised into Athens for registration. As if to reinforce the public trust, he passed out slips of paper inscribed with the Fifteenth Amendment that most of the freedman and poor whites couldn't even read.

 
Dr. Prentiss recited figures. Republicans turned out in record numbers. The Democrats got clobbered at the polls. When he had finished, he looked pale. Bourbon Smith had ceased walking and was glaring into Dr. Prentiss's face.

 
You’re the Chairman of the Democratic Party of Limestone County. I don't think you appreciate, Licinius, how critical the Nickajack has become to the future of Alabama. It has come down to me and a Huntsville scalawag - a Whig. The political compass of this state has swung North, and we are caught in this critical moment, Licinius. Do we hold onto what we have left of our way of life, or do we fold to a rabble of n*****s and illiterate crackers? Get your ship in order. Figure something out. Put your brains together, Licinius. I left you in charge for a reason!

 
The Klan sir?

 
Out of the question, barked Bourbon Smith. Jimmy Sloss is already on my ass about keeping them off the railroad he's building across the mountains from Decatur. He needs the colored labor. This is bigger than you think, Licinius. He's one of my largest donors, and he's in competition to get to Birmingham first with his railroad before the Yankees do.

 
That was also true. A Republican congressman from Pennsylvania named William "Pig Iron" Kelley was part of a cabal of Radical Republican investors who were racing Jimmy Sloss's railroad to Birmingham. Their railroad was being built from Chattanooga down the Wills Valley, which was flanked by Sand and Lookout Mountains. The A&C Railroad was backed by millions in government-backed bonds approved by the last Republican governor of Alabama, William Hugh Smith, which were corruptly solicited in excess of legal limits.

 
Sir, interjected Branse, who stepped in beside Dr. Prentiss, who was sweating visibly now. I think I may have an idea.

 
Smith warmed. Branse, I knew your father. He was a good friend of mine. He was definitely committed to the Cause. Some say more, he added cryptically. Branse nodded.

 
Mr. Houston, I don't think we need to sidestep the Klan just offhandedly. They may serve one more purpose for us yet.

 
The last thing we need is for President Grant to send in the army again to quell violence at the polls. The Radical Republicans are already lashing out at us for suppressing the vote with these registration ordinances. It's not ideal, but it is all we have. I know you'll work something out, Licinius, he said turning to the doctor again.

 
Sir, if I may, pressed Branse. You may leave it to me to handle the Klan when the time is right. We'll clean up your backyard before election.