"Words when compared to the reality of what Lincoln has forced us to, the devastation he has wrought against hundreds of thousands of common men of the South," Judah replied sharply.
"Words are weapons in war, just as the bayonet or gun. It is with such words that Lincoln will bring hundreds of thousands of men of color into the ranks of his legions, while the South continues to bleed itself dry."
"So, to cut to the core of this," Judah replied. "You are actually proposing our own Emancipation Proclamation."
"Exactly. Do that, gentlemen, and you will have cut out the props from under Lincoln. You will have a profound impact on foreign intervention, and you will bring to your ranks hundreds of thousands of men of color, who will see that here is their chance for honorable freedom and a future in the South as equal citizens. You could mobilize hundreds of thousands of fresh troops within months. That answers then the other point, the one of numbers.
"I daresay, gentlemen, it would bond the men of the South, black and white, into a bond of blood that will forever change the social dynamic of your newly freed country. When men bleed side by side on the battlefield, they become brothers in peace."
Lee sat silent, gaze fixed on Judah. Till this moment he had never considered the issue in this light. For a brief instant he let his imagination run with it; a hundred thousand fresh troops, even fifty thousand at this moment, would most certainly tip the scale once and for all to his side. But the barriers … and as quickly as his mind turned to those realities, the dream flickered and died. Davis and the Confederate Congress back in Richmond would never agree.
"Let me finish quickly, my friends, for I know the hour is late," Samuel said. "I asked my servant to take some coffee and biscuits out to your guards, but I can imagine those young lads are weary and would like to return to their rest, so I shall try to keep it short"
Lee looked out the window and saw that his troop of cavalry escorts were, indeed, enjoying coffee served on fine china, while out in the street a small crowd of the curious had gathered.
"Thank you for seeing to my men," Lee said. "Such kind treatment will be remembered by them and by me. I must add now, sir, that I am posting several of them here for the next few days, just in case our visit should cause subsequent problems."
"If it was only myself, I would insist against it, but I know Sarah was worried about this, so I thank you, sir."
Samuel sighed. 'Tragic isn't it that we must take such precautions in these times?"
"I hope soon that we will not," Lee said with a smile.
"I will raise another point that stops us," Judah interjected. "The slave owners themselves. They are a minority in our country but a powerful one. I do not see them readily agreeing to this."
"I've thought of that as well," Samuel replied. "First off, ask them to speak to the slave owners in what is now territory occupied by the Union. They have lost what they held forever. That tidal wave is coming down upon the rest of the South, a storm that cannot be stopped. So I would argue that now, before it is too late, you should offer them compensation."
"With what?" Judah asked. "We are bankrupt as it is."
"Think creatively, Judah. I daresay you might even be able to get foreign funds for such a venture; the liberals of England would rejoice at such a pronouncement, perhaps even be willing to fund some of it. Your economy is stagnant because of the blockade. After such a proclamation France will undoubtedly come in, and, I think, England as well. Trade will generate some of the funds necessary."
"This stays here," Judah replied, "but I think we will see that anyhow."
Samuel sniffed and shook his head.
'Too little, too late. France? Their only concern is expanding their empire in Mexico and doing what damage they can to both of us, North and South, to prevent our intervention after our own war is over. The impact of France, at best, would be limited.
"It is England you want, and as long as you embrace slavery, nothing you achieve on the battlefield will bring them to your side. Besides, I think they see that as long as Lincoln stands firm, the war will continue. No, shake Lincoln with your offer of freedom. England will see the Union cause tottering and at that moment, they just might consider breaking the blockade. If for no other reason than to win your gratitude once the war was over.
"The sale of the tens of millions of dollars in cotton rotting on our wharves could be used to help offset the temporary financial loss of the slaveholders and keep them in your ranks.
"The South must make some hard decisions within the next few weeks if it is to survive," Samuel said, pressing his argument. "Perhaps, if both sides have declared for emancipation, then what the North now claims is one of the fundamental issues of the war has been resolved. Doing it now, at a moment of strength, on the coattails of victory, will add even more weight, rather than to do so as a final act of desperation.
"You can then argue that there is no longer any point to the war. Lincoln altered the terms; you have agreed to those terms; the issue is settled. I daresay that the will to continue the fight on the side of the North, to venture yet another battle with your army now reinforced with tens of thousands of black soldiers, will evaporate."
Samuel spoke now with open enthusiasm, as if his proposal could actually become a reality if the three of them sitting about the table would agree.
"Our government will never accept it," Judah replied, "more so even now because victory seems all but assured."
"You mean President Davis will not accept it"
Judah shook his head.
"Samuel, you have been my friend for fifteen years, but you must know that there are lines drawn by my office, and I will not discuss that here."
"And my suggestion?"
"The realist in me knows that our president, our Congress, and those in power will not yet agree to such a measure."
"As I feared," Samuel said wearily.
Lee stirred, sliding his chair back. He had listened to the debate with interest, and he knew it would trouble his thoughts, but the more immediate concerns of command called, and the hour was late. His gesture was a signal to both.
Samuel stood up and bowed graciously to Lee.
"I hope, sir, that two old friends talking politics have not dulled the pleasure of this evening."
"On the contrary, sir, you have been a wonderful host."
Samuel guided them to the door, on the way pointing out several small items of his collection: documents signed by Napoleon, Wellington, a framed locket of Napoleon's hair.
"I will pray for both of you," Samuel said. "Know that my heart is with you."
Samuel opened the door and the three stepped out. The guard detachment, who had obviously been enjoying themselves, surrounded by admiring citizens and more than one attractive young lady, quickly snapped to attention. The captain of the guard called for orderlies to bring Judah and Lee's horses.
The two mounted, bid their farewells to Samuel, and rode off, the detachment surrounding them.
"Gentlemen, just a little room please," Lee asked. "The secretary and I need to talk for a moment."
The captain of his guard detail looked over at Lee with concern. The street was dark, there was no telling what danger lurked in side alleyways, but Lee's forceful gaze won the argument and the detachment spread out. Lee brought Traveler over closer to Judah's side.
"Any thoughts, General Lee?"
"Sir, respectfully, but I must ask, was part of that conversation staged for my benefit?"
"What do you mean, General Lee?" Judah asked innocently.
"Sir, you are noted for your subtle abilities."
Judah laughed softly.
"I am not sure if I am being complimented or insulted."
"A compliment, Mr. Secretary. But the question I raised earlier, about the president not attending, and now my question for the reason I was invited at all."
"I wanted you to meet Samuel. He is a sharp wit In less troubling times, I know the two of you would have enjoyed talking
history."
"But we are in troubled times, sir. I wonder how much you knew about the direction tonight's conversation would take."
"Oh, I assumed it would go in the path it took. I've had several letters from my old friend come through the lines since the war started."
"Then why was I there?" Lee asked, and there was a slight touch of anger in his voice. "You placed me in an uncomfortable position. I will admit I was quite taken by our host and his family. I would love to sit with him again, but to talk of other things. I am a field commander who must answer to my government. It is not my position, sir, to discuss the policies of our government."
Judah held up an apologetic hand.
"Do not chastise me too harshly, General Lee."
"I am not chastising you, sir. Merely making a point, a tradition that any general must maintain."
"General Lee, some words from my heart."
"Go on, sir."
"You have become the soul of our cause."
Now it was Lee's turn to hold up his hand, shaking his head as if not wanting to hear what would be said, for the words, as always, were a burden he did not want.
"Hear me out, please. You are the soul of our cause. Every Southern household hangs on your exploits. Where we face defeats on so many other fronts, you bring victory. You have built perhaps the finest army in history and led it to victories unimagined. The survival of our cause now rests with you. Not with the president nor our Congress, nor my own feeble attempts at foreign policy. It rests with you."
"It rests with the men of the army, sir. Always it rests with them," Lee said forcefully. "It is their blood that will buy us liberty."
"I know," Judah said sadly. "But the blood of how many men? We know it cannot go on much longer. We have only so much of that blood to give. There isn't a home in the South that has not paid for this damnable war. And we are running out of that blood.
"Samuel was right. Even as we bleed, and prepare to bleed again, Lincoln holds fast. I fear sir, he has indeed seized the moral high ground from us. He has shifted the reasons for this war far beyond what many of us believe started it. Samuel proposes a way to put an end to it, and, perhaps, as well to end the division of the races in our homeland. I would like to think that if the black man were given his chance, in defense of the South, it would change forever how we see each other. Perhaps it would give us a chance to rebuild a nation together. And in so doing, give to you two, maybe three, more corps of men for the battles yet to be fought."
"It is not my decision, sir," Lee replied sharply, a touch of anger in his voice. "It is the president's and yours, not mine."
"I know, General Lee. But I must say this. Perhaps, someday, the burden will be yours. That is why I asked you to join us tonight to hear what someone who is astute has to say, and also what I have dwelled upon since this conflict started."
"Sir? You have felt this all along?" "Just that, General Lee, but I think I've said enough for one night"
The two rode on in silence, disappearing into the night.
Chapter Fourteen
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania
Headquarters Army of the Susquehanna
August 3,1863 10:30 a.m
Grant looked around at the gathering in his oversized command tent. A photographer from Brady's had just finished-taking several images of them outside, and now from a distance was doing a fourth and final shot of them gathered in the open-sided tent. The group remained still until it was done and the photographer ran off to his black wagon to develop the plate as an assistant picked up the heavy camera and lugged it away.
The day was warm, another heat wave setting in, and his officers were grateful to get their jackets off, sitting about the long oak table in shirtsleeves and vests.
Maj. Gen. Edward Ord, who had arrived only yesterday with the last of the men from his Thirteenth Corps, was relaxed, sipping from a tall glass of iced lemonade. Beside him was McPherson, commander of the Fifteenth Corps, the first unit from the West to arrive in Harrisburg. Burnside, who had reassumed command of his old Ninth Corps, which had served in part of the Vicksburg campaign, sat quietly to one comer. He had arrived ahead of his two small divisions, which were still crossing Indiana and Ohio. Couch, commander of the twenty thousand militia and short-term regiments that had gathered in Harrisburg at the start of the Gettysburg campaign, was fanning himself with an oversized, wide-brimmed hat Several divisional commanders and the usual staff were gathered as well, while in the far comer sat Ely Parker, Grant's adjutant, taking notes. Beside him sat Elihu Washburne, who had arrived from Washington only within the last hour.
"It's time we started laying out our plans," Grant announced, "and I want to know our state of readiness."
"My men are ready any time you give the word, sir," McPherson said confidently. "But it is a question of supplies, remounts, support equipment."
The other generals nodded in agreement.
Grant looked over at Haupt. The general was actually dozing and Ord, smiling, nudged him awake.
"Sorry, sir."
Grant smiled indulgently. Haupt was working himself into a state of collapse. He had lost weight, his features pale, the dysentery draining him of all energy.
"Are you ready to report, sir?" Grant asked.
"Yes, sir."
Haupt stood, leaning against the table for support, and pointed to the map of the entire eastern United States, which was spread on the table.
"We've moved over forty thousand men east in the last three weeks and I must say that it is a unique accomplishment in the history of warfare. It has of course created certain problems, which my staff did anticipate but could do nothing about during the movement of forces, and now it will take some time to straighten out."
"What problems?" Burnside asked.
"Locomotives and rolling stock. We commandeered over two hundred locomotives from different lines and over two thousand flatcars and boxcars. Repositioning them back into useful service after their express run east is taking time. I could not ship them back while the entire road, involving several different lines, was cleared for eastbound traffic. Therefore these last two weeks have created some depletion o'f available trains in the West. Once the last of Burnside's men are in, we need to take a breather, to reposition that rolling stock back to their owners, who are screaming bloody murder."
"Can't they wait?" Ord asked. "We still need to bring more men in, tens of thousands more."
"Yes and no, sir. We will continue to bring in troops. I'm preparing for the next big trans-shipment of Nineteenth Corps from Philadelphia as they arrive by sea from New Orleans, but in order to keep other activities moving, including industrial and even commercial movement, we have to slow the pace slightly."
He paused, looking over at Grant, who nodded his approval.
"Go ahead, General. I'm in agreement. Our presence here, at this moment, has at least alleviated any defensive concerns; in that capacity we are fully ready to fight. It was beyond my hope that General Lee might actually attempt to sally forth from Baltimore and try to strike us here. We knew that wouldn't happen, but our friends over in the state capitol building are now relieved. We are not yet however, an offensive army."
Ord grinned, chewing meditatively on a wad of tobacco, leaned over, and spat on the ground.
'Tell that to my boys; they're eager to get at it, sir."
McPherson grinned and nodded in agreement
"Our little skirmish a couple of days ago got their blood up, sir; I kind of agree with Ord. Perhaps a demonstration down towards Carlisle?"
Grant shook his head.
"General McPherson, your men did admirably driving back Stuart's pickets. One brigade across the river, to deny them the ability to see us, is sufficient for now. We move when ready, and not before."
"I concur," Haupt said, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.
"The big problem of logistics now is horses. As General Grant said, we are a defensive army at the moment; we
can fight in place, but to move? Not yet, I am sorry to say."
"How soon?" Ord pressed.
"Sir, we need over twelve thousand more horses and at least six thousand mules for our supply trains, and we don't even have the wagons yet for the mules to be hitched to.
"Moving men is simple in comparison. Pile a regiment on a train, get patriotic civilians to pass up hampers of food at every stop, have wood and water in place for the locomotive, and you can go clear from Wisconsin to Maine in a week if you wish. Horses are a hell of a lot more difficult.
"At best we can maybe load a hundred horses to a train, but that is pressing it, a hell of a lot of weight for the steeper grades. They have to be unloaded every day, exercised, fed, watered. We can't go too fast A bad bump or shift, and you have a trainload of horses with broken legs. A trip of three days to move five hundred men will equal a week or more with five trains with incredible amounts of fodder placed along the way. Then, once here, sir, ten thousand horses means four hundred thousand pounds of fodder a day. Granted, we can pasture a lot of them in nearby farms, but they'll eat that out in a couple of weeks."
He shook his head wearily.
"How many of our own horses from Vicksburg will come up?" Ord asked. "A lot of my men in the cavalry and artillery are upset about losing their old mounts and trace horses, which are trained to their tasks."
"I'm having near five thousand moved by steamers up to Wheeling. From there they'll be loaded on trains. That cuts six hundred miles off the train run, but it's a lot slower and the Ohio is still in flood from all the rains, so it's even slower than expected. The first trainload should be coming in next week."
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