When, therefore, Texas became one of the United States, she entered into an indissoluble relation. All the obligations of perpetual union , and all the guaranties of republican government in the union , attached at once to the State. The act which consummated her admission into the union was something more than a compact; it was the incorporation of a new member into the political body. And it was final. The union between Texas and the other States was as complete, as perpetual, and as indissoluble as the union between the original States. There was no place for reconsideration, or revocation, except through revolution, or through consent of the States.
The ordinance of secession, adopted by the convention and ratified by a majority of the citizens of Texas, and all the acts of her legislature intended to give effect to that ordinance, were absolutely null. They were utterly without operation in law. The obligations of the State, as a member of the union , and of every citizen of the State, as a citizen of the United States, remained perfect and unimpaired. It certainly follows that the State did not cease to be a State, nor her citizens to be citizens of the union . If this were otherwise, the State must have become foreign, and her citizens foreigners. The war must have ceased to be a war for the suppression of rebellion, and must have become a war for conquest and subjugation.
Which was precisely how the South viewed the conflict.
Not the War Between the States. Or the Civil War.
But the War of Northern Aggression.
Conquest and subjugation. Absolutely.
Southerners felt that then, and many still did today. Go southeast of Atlanta into central Georgia, as she’d done many times, and mention the name General William Tecumseh Sherman in the right places, to the right people, and they’d spit on the ground.
She’d never really given secession serious thought. After Lincoln’s time the issue was thought resolved. True, occasionally, there were rumblings in the press about some city, or county, or fringe faction who wanted out. Key West was famous for its Conch Republic. But nothing ever came of any of it.
Then she’d listened to Edwin. He wasn’t some lunatic trying to avoid taxes, or ignore a law he didn’t like, or just wanting to do as he pleased. He was the White House chief of staff.
And he was scared.
“This could become a real problem,” Davis said. “We were hoping that time had taken care of things. But we’ve received information indicating that this is not the case.”
“What could be so frightening?”
“Stephanie, we watch twenty-four-hour news, listen to talk radio, read editorials. Information comes at us all day long. Everybody has an opinion on everything. Bloggers, journalists. Twitter feeds and Facebook posts have become authoritative sources. No one really pays attention anymore. We only scratch the surface, and that’s deemed enough.”
He pointed at a paragraph on the screen. From Texas v. White.
Which she read again.
Our conclusion therefore is, that Texas continued to be a State, and a State of the union , notwithstanding the transactions to which we have referred. And this conclusion, in our judgment, is not in conflict with any act or declaration of any department of the National government, but entirely in accordance with the whole series of such acts and declarations since the first outbreak of the rebellion.
“The damn Supreme Court only scratched the surface,” Davis said. “They issued a political opinion, not a legal one. Its author, Chief Justice Salmon Chase, served in Lincoln’s cabinet. What was he going to say? The whole Civil War was unconstitutional? That secession was legal? And, by the way, 620,000 men died for nothing.”
“Isn’t that a bit melodramatic?”
“Not in the least. Texas v. White remains the definitive statement by the Supreme Court on the issue of secession. If a state tried to secede, any judge in the country would immediately hold that it’s unconstitutional based on Texas v. White.”
She knew that to be true.
“That opinion, though, was far from unanimous,” Davis said. “Three justices dissented.”
She stared again at the words on the screen.
And this conclusion, in our judgment, is not in conflict with any act or declaration of any department of the National government.
She heard again what Edwin had told her, ending with “What if we know something the Supreme Court in 1869 didn’t?”
What if, indeed.
TWENTY
DENMARK
MALONE DID NOT LIKE ANYTHING CASSIOPEIA HAD SAID.
Luke had returned in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. Stay cool, the young man’s eyes signaled. This Frat Boy obviously knew of his connection with Cassiopeia.