Grant was already staring at the map when the others boarded. He looked around at his officers, then tapped the map with a thick finger.
“Here,” he said. “Here is where we make the stand—and stop them. Stopped them there once before. Saratoga. Good defensive country. But we are going to have to block them and hold them with just what we have. Reinforcements will be on the way, but we don’t know when they will arrive.” He puffed furiously on the cigar.
“We hold, do you understand that? We are falling back now because we have no choice. But this is the last time. We will make a stand. After that we do not give way and we do not retreat. The only way they are going to advance is over our dead bodies.”
The whistle sounded and they swayed as the train clanked into motion and began to pick up speed.
In reverse. Back down the track. Grant hated this, hated to retreat but had no choice.
But this was going to be the last time.
THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
“I don’t think that we are going to need all of the cavalry now,” Lincoln said, looking down from the window at the mounted soldiers clattering up the drive to the White House, dark silhouettes against the rising sun. “Not in the light of the most astounding recent developments.”
“I spoke almost those very words to the major in charge,” Hay said as he packed his ledgers into the carpet bag. “He was most firm in response—until he has orders to the contrary, he said—when you go out of this building you are to be surrounded by his troopers at all times. That assassin came close enough to put a bullet through your hat last month when you were out strolling by yourself. There are still a lot of people out there with a grudge against Old Abe.”
“Well, I imagine that you are right. Have we been able to contact General Sherman yet?”
“We have indeed,” Nicolay said. “Since we connected our telegraph wires to the Confederates’ telegraph system at Yorktown we have opened a whole new world of communication. General Sherman has already been picked up by the U. S. S. Itasca at Biloxi and is on his way to the meeting. There was some concern at first when our ship approached the harbor—particularly when a cannon was fired. But it was only a salute since they were the first to know that our troops helped to revenge their destruction. In fact it was hours before they could get away from the reception for Sherman.”
“A relief to hear. So the ceasefire is more than holding. Now then, let us away as well before Seward or Cameron get wind of our early departure.”
“Perhaps the Secretary of State . . .” Nicolay said hesitantly; the President interrupted.
“My mind is made up, Nico, you know that. If Jefferson Davis and I cannot work out an agreement between ourselves, no passel of politicians is going to be of any help. Do you realize what an opportunity has befallen us?”
“I can think of nothing else, sir, and didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
“Nor I, my boy, nor I. Have there been any more reports about the ceasefire?”
“Went into effect at midnight. There have been a few accounts of sporadic shooting on both sides, from troops who hadn’t received the word. But all that has died away now.”
“Excellent. So we shall see if a little yachting voyage might relax and refreshen us.”
The President led the way out of the office, with his heavily-laden secretaries following. The White House was silent, everyone asleep except the soldiers on guard. Lincoln mounted his horse while his secretaries put their bags into the carriage. Despite being six feet, four inches, most of the President’s height was due to his long legs. Now in the saddle he was surrounded by a solid wall of human flesh and invisible among the massed troopers. They trotted steadily out onto Pennsylvania Avenue, past the redolent canal and on to the Potomac.
Once aboard the steamer River Queen the President felt much better. He sat on the bench by the rail and pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them as he watched the lines being cast off. The engine throbbed smoothly and the green hills of Virginia moved slowly by.
“There will be Confederate troops waiting at West Point Depot,” Nicolay said, almost muttering to himself as he pulled at his wispy beard.
“I imagine that there will be, Nico, since their army is stationed there. And I am sure that they will also greet Jeff Davis with great enthusiasm when he arrives by train from Richmond. It was my decision to meet on Southern territory because they were forthcoming enough to send Lee and his men into ours. General Sherman had no hesitation in joining them and marching through the South, so I can do no less. But we are sailing in neutral waters and neutral we must remain. If I will be in any peril from the Confederates, why then a handful of troops or a few guns on this ship would make no difference. No, we must rely instead on the spirit of goodwill instilled by General Sherman. He was the one who stood in direst peril and he is to be admired for his strength and courage. He seized the nettle, did his duty as he saw it—and made this meeting possible.”
“Why did they do it?”
Lincoln knew who the they was since the same question was paramount in all their minds.
“As yet, we do not know. The captured British soldiers, like soldiers in any army, just followed orders. I hear that an officer has also been captured, but he is badly wounded. But for whatever reason the British attacked the South we must accept the fact that they did and make the most of it. This opportunity will not occur again. I pray only that Jeff Davis be of the same mind as the rest of us.”
The shore shimmered in the summer heat haze, but there was a cool sea breeze moving across Chesapeake Bay so they traveled in comfort. Only when the little ship turned into the York River did the heat return. The river here was more than wide enough for easy navigation, and only narrowed after it had passed the landings at West Point Depot. The ship’s engine shut down as they drifted slowly towards the dock at the depot. The lines were thrown, but instead of boatmen or longshoremen grabbing on, gray-coated soldiers hooked them over the bollards. Hay shivered at the sight of them, seized by the sudden thought that perhaps this was all some kind of desperate ruse to kidnap and kill the President. But, no, he had seen General Lee with his own eyes.
Word must have been sent ahead when the yacht was first seen in the river for there was a carriage now coming towards the landing. The Southern soldiers, in their motley and patched uniforms, had been drawn up and stood at attention. President Lincoln stood at the rail, patting his old, tall hat into place.
If there was ever a moment of historical significance this was surely it. In the midst of a terrible war there was suddenly peace. The guns were silent, the fighting stopped. Now the leaders of the two warring sides, which less than a day ago had been locked in mortal conflict, were prepared to meet each other in peace.
The carriage pulled up on the wharf and the top-hatted and elegantly clad figure that climbed down now could only be one man. Jefferson E. Davis, the elected President of the breakaway new nation. He conferred briefly with the officers who awaited him. Then he strode alone confidently towards the companionway that had just been pushed ashore. There he stopped for an instant.
President Lincoln who was waiting at the other end did not hesitate but walked down to meet him. For the first time since the war had begun he was standing on Southern soil. The long moment of silence was broken when he spoke.
“Mr. Davis, it was a brave and courageous thing you did to arrange this meeting. I thank you.”
“I thank you, Mr. Lincoln, for your instant response and for your bravery in coming here deep inside Virginia.”
Lincoln smiled at that. “I am no stranger to these parts. My grandfather, Abraham, for whom I was named, was from Virginia. So I feel that I am coming home.”
“I know that, Sir, since I was born here as well. Our birth-places are less than a hundred miles apart, I do believe. I am normally not a superstitious man, but I cannot feel but that there is a hand of destiny here.”
There was silence and a certain hesitation. Too mu
ch in the past separated them. Lincoln, the man who had brought war and destruction to the South. Davis, slave-holder and oppressor. But this must change—this had to change.
Both men strode forward at the same instant. By common and instant decision they clasped hands. Nicolay felt the breath catch in his throat, seeing this, yet not believing what he was seeing.
“Do come aboard, sir,” Lincoln said. “And out of the sun.”
Nicolay stepped aside when the two presidents turned, climbed the companionway and stepped aboard the ship.
“We shall use the main salon and we will not be disturbed,” Lincoln said. Both secretaries nodded in silence. “That is not until General Sherman arrives and meets with General Lee. You will then please tell them to join us then.”
With a guiding and friendly hand to the shoulder Lincoln escorted Davis into the low-ceilinged and comfortable salon and closed the door behind them.
“Would that I were but a fly on the wall in there!” Nicolay said, wringing his hands in real anguish. Hay nodded agreement.
“We will hear in good time. Now—let us seek some protection from the fury of this Virginia sun.”
Despite the heat of the day the portholes in the cabin were closed so what was said here could not possibly be overheard. Lincoln shrugged out of his jacket and dropped into the comfortable armchair that was bolted to the deck. Davis hesitated, started to open his jacket, then rebuttoned it. Perhaps formality might be put aside, like so many other things that had made this meeting possible. But he was a formal man who could not shake the habits of a lifetime. The jacket remained on. He hesitated, then took a pair of strongly tinted spectacles from his jacket pocket and put them over his severely inflamed eyes.
“The war in the north, Sir,” he said. “Is there any news?”
“None other than that a desperate battle is now under way. Before engaging the enemy General Grant telegraphed that he had retreated to prepared positions. He added that he would not retreat again nor would he be beaten.”
“You must believe him,” Davis said. “We did not at Shiloh. It took 10,000 of our dead to prove him right.”
“And 12,000 of ours killed in the doing thereof.” The thought drove Lincoln to his feet, to stride awkwardly the length of the small cabin, then back. “I am filled with a sense of wonder and of hope. We are facing together a common enemy—”
“Which in order to subdue and destroy we must unite in common cause.”
“I could not agree more. We must seize this ceasefire and turn it somehow into a peaceful union that will enable us to fight our joint enemy. Will your Southern troops enter into such an agreement?”
“With enthusiasm. Firstly, despite the horrors and death that this war between the states has thrust upon them, up until now it has been a war of soldier against soldier. All this has changed. A foreign power has not only invaded our land but has ravished and murdered Southern womanhood. This must be avenged.”
“And so it shall be. And a fine start was made when our conjoined troops attacked and destroyed the invaders.”
“But not all of them. Many fled the beaches and escaped by sea. While your ironclad and warships were engaged in battle a good part of the enemy fleet scattered despite the efforts by your ships to capture them. Thus the invaders escaped a second time. They will surely be used to reinforce the British invasion of New York State.”
“Will you join us and do battle with them there?” Even as he spoke the words Lincoln realized how filled with portent they were, how grave and world-changing the answer might be. Davis’s response was instantaneous.
“Of course we will, Mr. Lincoln. Anything else would be a blemish to Southern honor. Good men of the North under General Sherman’s command died in the Battle of Biloxi and we must honor their memories as well. We ask no others to fight our battles—but will happily join our fellow countrymen in this invasion of our common shores.”
Lincoln dropped into his chair, as exhausted as if he had split a cord of wood. “You understand the import of what you have just said?”
“I do.”
“Instead of killing each other, we take common cause to kill those who invade our country.”
“That is my understanding. And since we are now united in a single army we must consider the prisoners of war taken by both sides.”
“Of course! Our first joined order will be to throw open the prison gates so they can return to their homes. This will not only be a practical and humanitarian thing to do. But also symbolic of our changed relationship. As long as we trust each other our plan must succeed.”
Abraham Lincoln ran his long fingers through his desperately tangled hair as though to pummel the thoughts that raced through his brain.
“Jefferson, after what we have said to each other I feel compelled to speak to you of my most innermost thoughts, my most heartfelt hopes. I would have this Union as one again, but will not speak of that now. More important I would seek to finally put an end to this terrible war where brother kills brother. When it began I am sure that neither of us knew what horrors there were to come. Now we have a sudden peace and unity that will prevail whilst we battle a common enemy. An enemy whom we will certainly defeat. And then . . . ?”
Davis’s mouth was a firm hard line. “And then your abolitionists will begin their baying and threatening again. The causes of this war are still there and will not go away. We will lay down our lives—but not our honor. There are people in the North who will not allow that. When our common enemy is defeated they are going to turn on us again. They drove us from the Union once before and I know that they will have no hesitation in doing it a second time.”
“While your plantation owners will promise to lay down their lives, and the lives of many others, for the God-given right to enslave other men.”
“That is true. Our way of life and our Southern cause is the rock upon which we stand.”
“You can still say that after the 22,000 dead at Shiloh? Must brother go on killing brother until our land is soaked in blood?”
Davis took off his tinted spectacles and touched his handkerchief to his damp eyes. “They are not killing each other at this moment,” he said.
“Nor shall they ever begin again. Let us put aside for the moment the things that divide us and dwell instead upon what unites us. We fight together and we must find a way to continue this unity. I for one will do anything to prevent our recent civil war from flaring up again. It shall not be! I have put editors into jail—and some are still there—to silence the voices of those who fought against my policies. I can clap the baying abolitionists into jail just as easily if they threaten our new-found unity. Can you do the same?”
“I have jails as well, Mr. Lincoln, and will fill them as well with those who threaten this same unity. But the question still remains. What about the slaves? I am a slave-owner and, I feel, a good man. A good owner. I take care of them because they are incapable of taking care of themselves.”
Lincoln shook his head slowly. “We must try, at least try. A way has now been found for a temporary cessation of the war between the states. A way must also be found to make that cessation permanent. A road to peace must exist. We must find that road and march down it. We must be firm in our resolve to find that way. Meanwhile we know what we must do, to silence any opposition, silence those who would destroy this new-found unity, then perhaps a way can be found, must be found, to assure that this vengeful war does not start again. But I feel—no—I know that what we have decided here must not be spoken of outside the confines of this room. Our military alliance to repel the invaders, yes, that will be shouted aloud. This will be a noble and patriotic war and none will question that. But about this other matter, which for the moment we should agree to call the search for the future of peace, nothing must be said.”
“On that we are in complete agreement. Common cause will unite us and satisfy those that must do battle. That we are entertaining the possibility of an even more difficult and far-reaching g
oal must be kept secret lest it be compromised.”
They clasped hands at that and felt the elation of a mutual hope that the possibility existed, just the tiniest possibility now, that sometime in the future, out of the ruins of the old Union, a new Union might yet be formed.
Lincoln went to the fiddled sideboard, where a pitcher of cool water had been placed, and poured two glasses full. He drank deeply from his—then lowered it suddenly.
“I know someone who can help us in this common labor. An Englishman, a natural philosopher by the name of John Stuart Mill. I think that he was sent by a compassionate Providence to aid us in our hour of need. He is a man of great international standing who has written a very learned book on what he calls political economy. A great thinker who may be the very man to guide us on this path to our mutual goal.”
“An English traitor?”
“No, indeed—he is a loyal member of mankind. He speaks for our cause of freedom just as his countryman, Thomas Paine, spoke for our freedom during the Revolution. He is staying with his daughter in Washington. He is of the firm belief that the American system is one that should be admired and duplicated. He began to speak of the recent war and how it could be ended. He is not a charlatan but a gentleman of vigor and intelligence. It is my hope that he can aid us.”
“Mine too if what you have said is true.”
“We must take him under advisement at the earliest opportunity . . .”
There was a light tapping on the door.
“We were to be disturbed only when our generals arrived,” Lincoln said. He emptied his waterglass before going to unlock the door.
“They are here,” Nicolay said.
“We will see them now. And have these portholes opened before we combust.”
The slight form of William Tecumseh Sherman, garbed in a rumpled and battle-soiled blue uniform, was quite a contrast to the elegantly turned out Commander-in-Chief of the Confederate Army. Jefferson Davis jumped to his feet when the two officers had entered the room, then strode quickly to the Union General and seized him by the hand. Davis did not speak but the intensity of his emotions was obvious. Lincoln spoke for both of them.
Stars & Stripes Forever Page 21