e west. The
Senator determined to hold his faction together for future assaults.
Lee's record was yet too recent to permit the politicians to surrender
without a fight.

The banquet was to be a love feast at which all factions opposed to
Davis should be united behind the banner of Johnston. Henry S. Foote had
quarreled with William L. Yancey. These two fire-eaters were
enthusiastic partisans of his General.

Major Barbour, Johnston's chief quartermaster, presided at the head of
the banquet table in Old Tom Griffin's place on Main Street. Foote was
seated on his right, Governor Milledge T. Bonham of South Carolina next.
Then came Gustavus W. Smith, whose hatred of Davis was implacable for
daring to advance Robert E. Lee over his head. Next sat John U. Daniel,
the editor of Richmond's yellow journal, the _Examiner_. Daniel's arm
was in a sling. He had been by Johnston's side when wounded at Seven
Pines.

At the other end of the table sat Major Moore, the assistant
quartermaster, and by his side on the left, General Joseph E. Johnston,
full of wounds in the flesh and grievances of soul. On his right was
John B. Floyd of Fort Donelson fame whom Davis had relieved of his
command. And next William L. Yancey, the matchless orator of secession,
whose hatred of Davis was greater than this old hatred of Abolition.

The feast was such as only Tom Griffin knew how to prepare.

Johnston as usual was grave and taciturn, still suffering from his
unhealed wound. Yancey and Foote, the reconciled friends who had shaken
hands in a common cause, were the life of the party.

Daniel, the editor of the organ of the Soreheads and Irreconcilables,
was even more taciturn than his beloved Chief. General Bonham sang a
love song. Yancey and Foote vied with each other in the brilliancy of
their wit.

When the banquet had lasted for two hours, Yancey turned to Old Tom
Griffin and said:

"Fresh glasses now and bumpers of champagne!"

When the glasses were filled the Alabama orator lifted his glass.

"This toast is to be drunk standing, gentlemen!"

Every man save Johnston sprang to his feet. Yancey looked straight into
the eye of the General and shouted:

"Gentlemen! We drink to the health of the only man who can save the
Southern Confederacy--General Joseph E. Johnston!"

The glasses were emptied and a shout of applause rang from every
banqueter save one. The General had not yet touched his glass.

Without rising, Johnston lifted hi