1862

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lord John Russell entered his old friend's bedchamber and looked sadly on what lay on the bed. It was the ruins of what had once been a vital and intelligent human being, a man who had compared himself to the Caesars.

“How long has he been like this?”

The doctor, an old friend who'd attended Palmerston for decades, was grief-stricken. “His servants found him this morning when they tried to waken him. We believe it was a stroke and it obviously occurred sometime during the night.”

Palmerston^’ s eyes were closed and his mouth was open. He breathed deeply but each inhalation was a croaking strain. “He will recover?” Russell asked hopefully.

“I doubt it,” said the doctor, recovering his professional demeanor. “Miracles have happened but none that I have seen. You'll notice the slackness of his mouth. That and the fact that there is no response to our probings on the left side of his body indicate that a degree of paralysis has set in. Once that occurs, there is little hope of recovery. He may open his eyes and he may try to speak, but no one will understand him. Even if that does occur, he will likely forever remain a prisoner of his own body.”

Russell shuddered at the thought. The Americans have won another battle, he concluded. Only yesterday, they had received the grim news that Lee's foray into Washington had finished as an utter disaster. In a series of battles to the north and west of Washington, the Anglo-Confederate army had been mauled and Lee critically wounded. As a result, the command of the army had fallen to a nonentity named Beauregard, who had retreated back below the Potomac as quickly as he could. The Union general George Thomas was on his heels and Grant was coming up quickly with the main force. The newspapers were castigating this Beauregard, but he did appear to have saved as much of the army as he could have under the appalling circumstances confronting him.

Even worse than the Confederate defeat was the crushing of Napier's British contingent by the Union army and culminating in a savage attack by a horde of crazed Irishmen. Almost half the British soldiers who'd marched north at the beginning of the campaign were killed, wounded, or missing. The missing were the most perplexing as. while many had been captured in battle, a large number seemed to have just walked away. British soldiers don't desert, Russell told himself. Something was terribly wrong.

Each report of a new disaster had struck Palmerston almost physically. His old body and heart could no longer take it. causing his collapse. Palmerston still breathed, which made him technically alive, but there was little doubt that he would never return to his duties.

Gladstone had entered the room and was given the same briefing by the doctor. “What now?” he asked bluntly.

“Poor Pam,” Russell said, using the prime minister's nickname. “He wanted nothing more than to strengthen the empire against its enemies, yet he appears to have weakened it.”

“Not fatally. I trust.” said Gladstone.

“Not if we can stop the bleeding soon enough. I think yesterdays news was enough to sway even the staunchest opponent of peace. We must end this thing, and the sooner the better.”

Gladstone nodded. “Will you be prime minister?”

Would you rather it be you. Russell thought? Ambitious, aren't you? “No. at least not for a while. We must permit enough time to pass to be sure that Palmerston won't recover. With Parliament's permission and Her Majesty's acquiescence, I shall take on much of the responsibilities of prime minister without assuming the title. I shall need help and will be calling on both you and Mr. Disraeli for assistance. May I count on it?”

“Of course, and I'm certain I speak for Disraeli.”

With whom you have probably already spoken, thought Russell. “We must find a way towards peace that will preserve at least a semblance of our honor. Our political lives depend on it.”

“Indeed,” said Gladstone. “Have you any thoughts as to how this might be achieved?”

Russell smiled thinly. “One or two. Though nothing that will serve to end a war by themselves. We need something more dramatic.”

General Napier was puzzled. “Why on earth would a Negro woman wish to see me?”

The general had been at his headquarters outside Richmond for little more than a day, and most of his time had been spent catching up on the maddening paperwork that London seemed to think was more essential to the war effort than defeating the enemy that was massing for a push on Richmond. Thomas's army had been merged into Grant's and had established bridgeheads on the southern bank of the Rappahannock. This meant that no significant body of water lay between the Union armies and Richmond. A major thrust, or thrusts, was expected almost momentarily. Grant was no McClellan, and his subordinates, such as Thomas and Sherman, were at least as good as the Confederacy's generals. Desperate times were in store for the outmanned and outgunned Confederacy.

Confronted by the Union's weight of numbers and overwhelming advantages in materiel, the Confederacy, in Napier's opinion, was doomed, He thought it could fight on for quite a while, but the proverbial handwriting was writ large on the wall. Defeat was inevitable. Napier was concerned as to how he would extricate the remains of his army, which was now encamped south of Richmond near Petersburg in the event of the Union's capture of the Confederate capital. It was not lost on him that he was not that far from Yorktown. the scene of British ignominy less than a century earlier. He was consumed with a desire not to repeat it. His army would evacuate via British shipping should it be necessary.

He was also concerned by cryptic messages received from London regarding the British army's continued presence in the war, which had also been a topic in Richmond's newspapers. The Southern newspapers acknowledged that the British army had been terribly mauled in support of the Confederate cause, but wondered if it would ever give such support again. Napier wondered as well. It appeared to him that the new government under Russell was looking for a way out of the war. Napier hoped they would find it soon.

So why should he make a moment for a colored woman?

“She says she's from General Hampton and bears a personal message that she must hand directly to you.” The aide, a Captain Clarke, was as perplexed as the general. “Do you wish me to have her escorted away?”

Napier thought for a moment. Hampton was an influential man in the Confederacy. “No. send her in.”

Abigail Watson entered the office with an air of confidence that was a total sham. She paused and stood before the intimidating general in the brilliant red uniform. She prayed her nervousness would not be seen.

Napier held out his hand. “Please give me the message. If there is to be a response, I will send it directly.”

“Sir, I am charged to ask you a question first.”

Napier raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”

“Sir, is it true that there are no slaves in England?”

He took a deep breath. Slavery was evil and before him stood a victim of that evil. He should rebuke her for her impertinence, but he would not. “It is true.”

Abigail's confidence grew. He hadn't thrown her out. “Is it not true that England's alliance with the Confederacy is based on the fact that the South's slaves will be freed following this war?”

Napier's temper began to fray. He would not be interrogated by a damned servant. Or slave. “Do you really have a message for me or not?”

“Documents, yes. sir. but not a message.”

Now Napier was thoroughly puzzled. The colored woman was highly articulate and not afraid of displaying it. He'd heard of educated slaves, but most in the South went out of their way to hide the fact lest they become the victims of white anger and jealousy.

Clarke made a move towards the woman. Napier waved him back. “Madam, why are you talking to me like this?”

“Sir, it is widely spoken that the alliance is a marriage of convenience and that England would now like to get out of it. Is that true?”

“I don't think I will discuss matters of national policy with you,” Napier responded sternly.

Abigail smiled inwardly. He hadn't denied it. “Then, if England truly wishes to break from the Confederacy, these may help it to do so.” She held out a small pack of papers. “I only ask one favor.”

Napier's anger faded and he was thoroughly intrigued. “And what might that be? Your freedom? That I cannot give you.”

“General Napier, if these documents are as important as I think, then my freedom will come swiftly. What I wish, however, is my safety. If, as I said, they are important, then the Confederate government and General Hampton will quickly figure out how you got them. If they are worthless, then discard them and I shall leave. However. I think they are of great worth and I will need your protection. Ultimately, I would like to get to the North.”

With that, she handed over the papers. Napier took them and began to read. Halfway through, she noticed that he was sitting up straighter than he had been. When he finished, he read them a second time. Then he folded them and put them inside his jacket. He smiled at Abigail.

“Thank you. You have done us all a great service. Captain Clarke!” The aide jumped from his chair. “Sir.”

“First send a message to Lord Lyons to meet me here as soon as possible. Then get me Major Arbuthnot from the cable office. After that, see if General Wolsey is strong enough for a conference. Finally,” he paused and looked at Abigail, whose composure had finally broken and who was quietly weeping. “See to it that this, ah, lady is transported in utmost secrecy to the fleet with instructions from me that she is to be taken to Canada as soon as possible. From there, arrangements are to be made to get her to New York.” Abigail began to cry openly. “Could it be Boston, sir? I have family in Boston.” Napier smiled expansively. “My dear lady, we would send you any place on this earth if you so wished it.”

My Dear General Hampton.

In response to your letter, let me give you the utmost assurances that the rumors are wrong. There is no agreement between Her Majesty's government and that of the Confederate States of America regarding manumission for the slaves in the Confederate States. All that was agreed to was the possibility that such could occur should it be the wish of the states that comprise our sovereign nation. Indeed, it would have been an utter fraud on my part to have made a promise to free the staves as it is unenforceable according to our law. As you well know, our new and untested Constitution contains several references to the legitimacy of slavery and, therefore, such manumission could not take place without amending our Constitution. As President, I have many powers, but that is not one of them.

I cannot rule out that manumission might happen in the future, but, if it does, it will be as a result of the wishes of the people of the Confederacy, I think you will agree that such approval is highly unlikely in the foreseeable future.

As to the rumor itself, it seems to have originated in England and it puzzles me as to why the British government has not taken steps to contradict it. It could be because they think it too preposterous to dignify, or it might be because they, for political purposes, wish to have their population think that it might be true, thus pandering to their significantly antislavery population. England is capable of incredible deviousness, so that latter idea is what I think has occurred. When the war is ended and we are victorious, then the whole matter will be deferred eternally and simply forgotten.

In conclusion, dear General Hampton, please do not permit such matters to concern you. What our nation needs is your presence back on the field of battle. Pay no mind to absurd rumors. Concentrate solely on regaining your health.

Jefferson Davis

William Gladstone returned the copy of the cable to Lord Russell. “Who is this Hampton and why does he, a mere brigadier general, communicate thusly with the president of the Confederacy?”

Russell chuckled grimly. “He is one of the richest and most influential men in the Southern states. His power greatly exceeds his rank. In the American republics, wealth defines the man, and he is well defined indeed.''

“Has this letter been proven authentic?”

“General Napier and Lord Lyons agree that it is genuine. Both have correspondence from Davis and the handwriting and the stationery, they assure me, are the same.”

“Then the South has betrayed us.”

“Have they?” asked Russell. “Or did we permit ourselves to be deluded? It is my understanding that Jefferson Davis is a man of honor, which precludes him from performing an intentional fraud on us. although he is obviously capable of permitting us to defraud ourselves. Besides. Lord Lyons essentially concurs with what Davis wrote, and that there was only an implied agreement that may have been seen more clearly by us than by the Confederacy. Palmerston wanted war, and he appears to have believed what he wished in order to get Confederate support.”

“At least he will never know the ignominy of this.” Palmerston had mercifully passed away that morning. He had never regained consciousness. “How does this fit into your plans?” Russell smiled. “I will hold on to this letter for about a week or so, and then proclaim in Parliament.”

“Good lord, why? There will be an outcry to break the alliance. This Davis says there is no agreement regarding slavery and then calls us devious. The public will see it as an intolerable affront, perhaps even greater than theTrent Incident. They will see that British blood has been spilled in support of a spurious cause. The London papers will crucify us.”

“Indeed, but we will have had the opportunity to rebut the message and portray ourselves as the aggrieved party. By that time, Gladstone, I believe there might be one or two meetings in North America that would prove interesting. They, the letter, and the few other thoughts Id previously mentioned might prove quite significant.”

The hunting lodge was south of Montreal and at the head of Lake Champlain. Its exact position relative to the ill-defined border between Canada and the United States was unknown. For the moment, it served everyone's purposes to assume that it lay astride the border. Aside from that political nicety, the lodge was large, well appointed, stocked with food and beverages, and, more important than all other factors, well heated.

Viscount Monck represented England, while General Winfield Scott represented the United States. Two civilian aides sat behind Monck at the dining room table, while John Hay and Nathan Hunter backed the general. Both Nathan and General Scott wore civilian clothes.

Scott began. “The most difficult step of any journey is always the first, so I shall take it. I have represented my country in diplomatic discussions with Great Britain at places not far from here. I have done so with some success, as conflict was averted. That is not the case today, as we are at war. May I presume that we are here to have a discussion regarding the end of the war?”

Monck nodded. “I shall take the second step by saying yes.”

Nathan watched as the drama unfolded. Once again he was a spectator to history, the proverbial fly on the wall.

Secretary of State Seward had wished to be the Union representative, but he had been overruled by Lincoln. Since Lord Russell could not be present in either of his capacities, foreign secretary or acting prime minister, it was diplomatically proper to have someone less than the secretary of state meet with someone who was less than the foreign secretary. Nathan suspected that Lincoln's real reason was Seward^’ s anti-English attitude and his abrasive personality, either of which could have ended any diplomatic initiatives.

“It appears to me,” said Scott, “that Her Majesty's government now feels that a war with the United States was a grievous error and wishes to correct that error.”

“That is a fair assessment,” Monck responded. “We would like nothing better than to go back to the world as it was, and hope that you feel likewise.”

Scott looked incredulous. “Status quo antebellum? I think not.”

“Why not, General? It would mean a peace with honor.”

“Governor Monck. far too much has happened and far too much blood has been spilled to simply forgive and forget. Besides, reverting to the past would leave too many open issues.”

“Such as?”

“May I be blunt?”

“Certainly, General.”

“One open issue is Canada. We hold much of it and you don't, although I presume you wish it back. Our citizens are proud of our conquest and would not permit Mr. Lincoln to simply return it in exchange for a thank-you and a handshake. No, we will keep Canada up to the eastern terminus of Lake Ontario.”

Monck paled. Kingston had recently fallen to General Baldy Smith's Union army in a daring winter approach. This had occurred after Commodore Foote's flotilla of ironclad turtles had demolished the small British squadron that had been built to defend Kingston.

“We cannot permit that,” Monck said softly. “We must have Canada back.”

“Then the war will continue and the following will happen in the spring. First, General Smith's army will continue towards Montreal and Ottawa. It will be supported by Quebec rebels of French descent, who now see in the United States a better chance for independence than Great Britain. We will guarantee them that independence, of course, which will result in a free French nation in North America.

“Second and simultaneously, another Union army will cross the border from Maine and drive towards Nova Scotia and Halifax. When all is done, you will be left with the island of New Found Land and whatever other piles of rock off the coast north of it you desire. A year from now, Britain will hold far less of Canada than she has now. Thus, when your government desires to negotiate again, it will be from a far weaker position.”

Monck paled at the vision. “What do you wish?”

Scott smiled benignly and it occurred to Nathan that the old man was enjoying himself hugely. In the meetings with Lincoln, it had been stressed that Canada was England's Achilles' heel. Scott was speaking to Monck every bit as bluntly as Seward had, but Scott was getting away with it.

“England must right the wrong.”

“Sir?”

“What Mr. Lincoln wants more than anything else is the Union both preserved and reunited. This is an intense feeling that he and most of the people of the United States have held since the start of hostilities with the South, and nothing has caused that belief to be shaken. By joining the cause of the South, England has cost American lives and possibly prolonged the war, thus deferring reunification and making us pay a higher blood price. England must make amends.”

Scott paused, waiting for Monck to comment. When he did not, the old general continued. “It is not enough that England step aside, she must change sides.”

“Impossible.” Monck said weakly.

Scott ignored him. “England will deny entry to her nation and her colonies any ships from the Confederacy, and she will stop the construction of any ships headed for the South. We are aware of a number of ships that could be used as blockade-runners under construction at Liverpool and elsewhere. The Royal Navy will actively help Union vessels in their blockade of the South and in chasing down Confederate blockade-runners. Further, the British army now recuperating at Petersburg will move towards Portsmouth and Norfolk. These cities will be held for a landing by Union forces. It will not be necessary for British land forces to fight alongside Union forces, unless, of course, the Confederates try to stop you.”

“We could never agree to that.”

“It is the only way you will ever regain Canada. Governor Monck, it is inevitable that the armies under Grant and Thomas will prevail against the remnants of Lee's army, which is now under Beauregard, who is not qualified to handle Lee's horse. If our victory does not occur this year, it will the next, or the year after that. But it will occur. If Canada is still ours when Grant is victorious, then what is left for England to bargain for? Negotiate now for Canada, or delay and lose her forever.”

Nathan saw that Monck was sweating. “You would return all of Canada in return for our assistance as described?”

“Minus some minor border adjustments.”

“And what might they be?”

“The United States will retain Vancouver Island. Our destiny is westward, and that will protect our ports in Puget Sound and other interests along the Pacific coast. In return for this, we will not protest your acquisition of Hawaii. After all, we are a land power and you are a naval one. You need Hawaii and we don't. A few business interests will be upset, but they are not important.”

Monck nodded. Vancouver for Hawaii would be perceived as a fair trade. It also confirmed the rumor that the Americans had begun negotiations with Russia over possession of Alaska. Let them have Vancouver. Canada west of Lake Superior was nothing more than a wasteland full of buffalo and Indians.

“At a point in time in the future, say five years,” Scott continued. “England will sell us those barren lands west of Hudson Bay. They are of no import to you and will help us fulfill our destiny in North America. England will continue to hold Ontario and Quebec.”

Monck thought rapidly. The northern Great Plains were nothing besides North America's equivalent to Siberia. Let the Americans have them. “Agreed.”

“Excellent.”

“I would suggest a prisoner exchange,” Monck said wryly, “but you have the advantage of us in that regard.”

Scott suppressed a smile. “As a show of good faith, we will return all prisoners who wish to be returned in exchange for a similar gesture on your part.”

“All who wish to return?”

This time Scott did smile. “Yes, it appears that a number of them have indicated that they wish to stay in the United States.”

Monck shook his head. “Damned Irishmen.”

Scott chuckled politely. He did not tell Monck that most of those who wished to stay were native English and not Irishmen serving the queen. He would find it out later.

“Then we are in agreement?” Scott asked. Monck nodded. “Good. We shall notify our governments, presuming, of course, that our respective telegraph lines are working.” Field lines had been run from Montreal, Canada, and Burlington, Vermont, to the lodge. It would take but minutes to notify Washington, and an hour or two to notify London.

“Lastly.” Scott said, “we would like Lord Russell to use his diplomatic skills to convince France to depart Mexico. If Napoleon III is not already convinced of his folly in trying to take Mexico, please inform him that, upon cessation of hostilities, the Union armies will move into Mexico and forcibly oust his forces. Please convince him of our resolve in that matter.”

“We will do that,” Monck said. The infusion of Union arms to Mexico's rebels had turned an already brutal war into a bloodbath. France was confronting catastrophe in the New World, and the very thought of Union armies aiding the cause of an independent Mexico would make Napoleon III wilt totally.

“Is that all?” Monck asked. “It is.”

Monck understood. Nothing had been said about Ireland. England would continue to have problems with that miserable island, but the United States would place no official demands on England for resolution of the conflict. However, neither would the United States disavow unofficial support for Irish freedom by organizations such as the Fenians. They would continue to supply money, guns, and recruits to fight against England. Cleburne was dead, but others would arise to take his place. The fighting in Ireland had died down as a result of mutual exhaustion, but it could, and would, begin anew at anytime. England had bought time. How best to use it was the question.

Both men were satisfied. Monck had feared greater territorial demands by the Americans, while Scott had feared that Monck would have called his bluff about Quebec and Halifax. Neither Lincoln nor Grant wanted any part of an invasion of Nova Scotia or of any dealings with the mad Frenchmen in Quebec.

Scott only wondered if he had made a mistake regarding Hawaii. He dismissed it. Hawaii wasn't American territory: thus, giving it to England was an act of no consequence. Scott walked ponderously from the room. He felt both his age and the cold, even though the fires kept it at bay. “Nathan, John, was it a good day's work?” Both men grinned. “It was,” Nathan said.

“I thought so, too. We will dine tonight with Governor Monck in a new spirit of cooperation that, someday, might evolve into friendship. Meanwhile, let's have a drink.”

Judah Benjamin, secretary of state for the Confederate States of America, approached the meeting with dread. Lord Richard Lyons, representative of Great Britain and ambassador without portfolio, had requested it, and the reason for it would not be a pleasant one.

All was not as it should be between the Confederacy and England. Rumors of a dramatic change between the two countries had been running rampant and they had been exacerbated by General Napier's move of the remains of his army towards Norfolk. Even a dullard could see that England was no longer interested in a land war with the steadily approaching Union forces.

Lord Lyons was announced and he took a seat across from Benjamin in Benjamin's office. After a few pleasantries were exchanged, Lord Lyons got down to business. “Mr. Benjamin, it is with a degree of regret that I inform you of my government's intentions regarding war with the United States of America.”

“Based on the move of General Napier's army to the coast, it has already gone beyond the intention state.” Benjamin had not missed the formal reference to the United States of America, instead of just the Union. This was indeed bad.

Lyons cleared his throat and continued. “As a result of information that has been forthcoming to Her Majesty's government, it has become necessary not just to depart the war, but to change totally England's relationship with the seceded states.”

Seceded states? Benjamin's dismay grew. Lyons had not even referred to the Confederacy by name. The termseceded states made the South sound like outlaws. “I presume you are referring to the unfortunate documents that are alleged to be from Jefferson Davis to General Hampton. There are those who have doubts as to their authenticity.”

Lyons smiled slightly. “We harbor no such doubts. Nor, apparently, does General Hampton. He has acknowledged it in a conversation with an agent of ours.”

Benjamin shook his head. What a fool, he thought. Why couldn't he have just denied them? Damn men with honor. Even Jefferson Davis had wanted to tell the truth, but had managed to avoid doing so by not letting anyone ask him about the letter.

“The whole situation is a misunderstanding,” Benjamin said nervously. “Surely it can be resolved by reasonable men acting in concert.”

“Great Britain's position on slavery is known. Had we been aware of such a, uh, misunderstanding, we would not have been able to provide direct support to your cause. There is, of course, more.”

What else could there be? Benjamin wondered.

“We have affidavits from a Southern sympathizer named Stephen Canty. He is a resident of Havana and he was paid by the Confederate government to provide information regarding theTrent's sailing schedule to theSanJacinto. In short, the Confederacy precipitated theTrent Incident in order to get us into the war.”

“I believe I have a thorough knowledge of my nation's efforts in the area of espionage,” said Benjamin, “and I know of no such endeavor or of anyone named Canty. I would like the opportunity to speak with that man.”

“Not possible,” Lyons said with a slight smile. “He fears for his life and has disappeared.”

Benjamin suddenly understood. The Hampton letter was real but the Canty affidavit was not. It was a fraud intended to corroborate the Hampton letter and to provide one more reason for England to sever ties with the Confederacy. By accusing the South of duplicity, England had been duplicitous herself.

“You have no shame, do you?” Benjamin said resignedly. “What terms have been extracted from you by the North?”

Lord Lyons gave Benjamin a summary of the negotiations between General Scott and Governor Monck that left the Confederate secretary of state aghast. He had expected the British to depart the war, but not that they would become a new enemy.

“In your position, sir,” said Lyons, “I would negotiate for peace.”

“We must fight on,” Benjamin said softly. “Our honor demands it.”

“You must face reality.” Lyons rebuked him gently. “As a result of Britain's ill-fated intervention, enlistments in the Union army have soared to where our sources say they have more than seven hundred thousand men under arms, and that number continues to grow. That's several times larger than the Confederacy's and, even if you could put more men into the field, you couldn't arm them or supply them. You haven't the numbers and you have no industry to support what you do have.”

“You had been helping to supply us,” Benjamin said with a trace of petulance.

“But no more. Look at what is happening. Grant is approaching Richmond, while Sherman is moving down the Shenandoah. It may look like his army is digressing, but he will debauch from the valley to the south and west of Richmond and, with no Confederate army of substance to halt it, will head north towards Richmond. You will be caught in a giant vise and without your best general.

Do you really think Beauregard can stand up to Grant, Thomas and Sherman? The Confederacy has some excellent leaders, but so, too, does the Union. The days when the Confederacy held the advantage in generalship are over. The Union generals are at least as good as yours, perhaps better. Even if they were merely equal, their army is overwhelmingly larger. You do not have armies enough to halt them.”

Lord Lyons declined to inform the Confederate statesman that Union troops under McPherson had begun to land at Norfolk. He would find that out soon enough. “You have betrayed us,” Benjamin said.

“We have protected our interests and we sincerely trust that you will do likewise with yours. Proclaim our perfidy to the skies if you like. It won't matter. The truth about Canty won't come out for generations, if at all. By that time, this will all be behind us. We accepted the fact that we have been defeated and have decided to cut our losses. I urge you to do the same. I have it on good authority that Mr. Lincoln is inclined to be both merciful and just. Negotiate to rejoin the Union.”

“Impossible.”

“Distasteful, yes, but not impossible. The late Palmerston was infatuated with the Roman Empire. It may be that the North is the new Rome, and you are Carthage. Please recall what happened to Carthage. After a series of savage wars, Carthage was utterly destroyed and, if I recall my history, the ground sowed with salt. Do you wish that for the South? Grant is moving slowly in a final attempt to give you time to come to your senses, but his advance is inexorable. If you persist in the agonies of a prolonged siege and continued war. you risk not just defeat but total destruction. Is that what you wish for your people?”

“No.” Benjamin said softly.

“You will have to forfeit slavery, but you will be compensated. Slavery is doomed, but you can save your homes, your livelihood, and your blood. Slavery is dependent on cotton, and now many lands are producing cotton. Soon. King Cotton will exist only as a memory, and what is now the Confederacy will have to compete in a global marketplace with nations where cotton is produced efficiently by free labor and not by inefficient slaves.

“Mr. Benjamin, will you doom your young men to die in a cause that is already lost? Damn it sir, make peace while you can and save what remains.”

Benjamin stood and Lyons rose also. There was deep sadness etched on the face of the Confederate diplomat. “I will convey your statements and your thoughts to Mr. Davis.”