3rd April. The Chamber of the House of Representatives in the Confederate Capitol. The spacious hall is in some disarray – scattered papers, upturned chairs – and sparselypopulated: a couple of Civilians in one corner engaged in quiet conversation and a Union Officer in dress uniform and sword in another. The eye, however, is drawn to the Speaker’s chair, on a raised dais, where an urbane-looking, elegant thirty-one-year-old black man sits writing, using the desk in front of him. This is T. Morris Chester.
Presently, a paroled Confederate Officer, unarmed and, despite his best efforts, somewhat shabby, enters and begins crossing the room. He glances at the Speaker’s chair, does a double take and stops in his tracks, horrified. He takes a moment to regain his composure.
Confederate Hey, nigger!
Chester ignores him completely, carries on writing.
I say, nigger!
Chester finishes writing his sentence and looks up.
Chester Are you addressing me, sir?
Confederate You see any other niggers in here?
Chester I see some other gentlemen. And you.
Confederate Come out of there, you black bastard!
Chester I’m not sure you appreciate your position, sir. Richmond has fallen.
By now, the attention of the others in the room has been caught. They watch, riveted.
Confederate Do you know where you are?
Chester Why, yes, this used to be your Capitol, and I believe this room was known as the Hall of Congress. And I am seated in the Speaker’s chair.
Confederate Well, get the hell out of it or I’ll knock your brains out! Who do you think you are?
Chester I’m reasonably sure I’m T. Morris Chester, special correspondent of the Philadelphia Press.
Confederate You goddamn uppity nigger, come out of there!
Chester So this is the celebrated Southern courtliness.
Confederate Why, you …
He takes the steps at a run and grabs hold of Chester’s collar. Unperturbed, Chester lays down his pen, rises to his feet and delivers a powerful punch to the Confederate’s nose, sending him crashing down the stairs in an ungainly heap. Then he sits down again and takes up his pen. The Confederate, boiling with rage, scrambles to his feet and turns to the Union Officer.
Lend me your sword. I’m going to cut this goddamn nigger’s heart out!
Union Officer No, I’m not going to do that. But I tell you what I will do. We’ll move some chairs, make a ring and you can fight him fair and square. These gentlemen will join me, I’m sure, to see nobody interferes.
The two Civilians indicate their agreement, and Chester rises to his feet.
I believe I’m going to enjoy this.
The Confederate looks around him for a moment, bested; then, as Chester begins to take off his frock coat, he gives a cry of rage and disgust and hurries out of the hall. Chester laughs and puts his coat back on.
Chester Well, thank you, gentlemen. I hope you don’t mind, I felt like exercising my rights as a belligerent.
Union Officer Are you really a newspaperman?
Civilian I didn’t know they had … coloured correspondents.
Chester As far as I know, they have one.
Second Civilian You mean they let you write stories and everything?
Chester Perhaps you’ll allow me to read you part of my article. I’d welcome your comments.
Not waiting for any further encouragement, Chester walks up to the dais, picks a sheet of paper up from the desk and reads.
Seated in the Speaker’s chair, so long dedicated to treason, but in the future to be consecrated to loyalty, I hasten to give a rapid sketch of the capturing of Richmond. Brevet Brigadier General Draper’s brigade of coloured troops were the first infantry to enter the city. Along the road on which the troops double-quicked, batches of Negroes were gathered together, testifying by unmistakable signs their delight at our coming. General Weitzel and staff passed by at a rapid speed and rode up Main Street amid the hearty congratulations of a very large crowd of coloured persons and poor whites, who were gathered together upon the sidewalks manifesting every demonstration of joy. The highest degree of happiness attainable on earth is now being enjoyed by the coloured people of this city. Nothing can be more amusing than the efforts of some of the most violent rebels to cultivate the friendship of the coloured people, with the hope that the forgiving nature of the race may induce them to forget the wrongs of the past and befriend them. What a wonderful change has come over the spirit of Southern dreams!
He stops reading and looks up. Silence.
Civilian I sure hope you’re right, son.
Union Officer Perhaps you’ll want to revise that after what just happened.
Chester No, I believe we will all now reap a golden harvest.