1862

Chapter Three

When Nathan returned to what he now referred to as home, it was late at night and he was attracted by the light in the first-floor sitting room. General Scott was in a chair and sipping a brandy. Beside him was an empty plate.

“I hope you fared better than I did,” Scott grumped. “The sandwich was dry. Sergeant Fromm made it for me since Bridget had the evening off. Fromm should stick to guarding me and answering the door.”

Nathan grinned. His earlier suspicions about the man who had opened the door had been correct. The man was a retired soldier who was devoted to Scott. Bridget was the young Irish woman who cooked and kept house. Nathan thought it amusing that the old man had been waiting up for him as if he were a child. “Let's say the food was adequate, General, but still superior to the wine.”

Scott shook his head sadly. “It's a long way from France to here, and wines do not always travel well. A pity we don't make any of our own that compares. Of course, I would not have expected the French to present their finest for uncouth Americans to guzzle.”

Nathan sat down across from Scott. “Has anyone ever compared you to Falstaff, General?”

Scott glowered at him. “I know my Shakespeare. Falstaff was a fool, and I am not a fool. Enough small talk; tell me what transpired. Did you get the message to John Hay?”

Nathan had gotten to the salon a little past the appointed time. John Hay had already arrived and was surrounded by people who wished to use him to gain influence with President Lincoln.

“I had to wait until he was alone. Then I gave him the envelope and told him it was a confidential message from you to Mr. Lincoln. He looked surprised, but recovered quickly and put it in an inside coat pocket. I must say I was impressed by Hay. He seemed very poised and confident. He just continued our polite conversation as if nothing had happened.”

“Then what?”

“Then I mingled and socialized.”

“Anyone important there?”

“Aside from some congressmen, only Generals Meigs and McDowell.” Meigs was the army's quartermaster general, while McDowell, the loser at Bull Run, was in charge of the defenses of Washington. “Neither man stayed long. Poor McDowell looked like a whipped dog.”

“Nobody likes McDowell because McDowell likes nobody,” Scott said. “All the man likes to do is eat. I consider myself a gourmet. He is a glutton. It's amazing he doesn't weigh as much as I do. General Meigs is an unpleasant man as well, but honest and capable.”

For the rest of the evening, Nathan had concentrated on socializing and enjoying himself. “I had a pleasant conversation with our host and hostess, the D'Estaings. Madame D'Estaing is quite charming and attractive. I had the distinct feeling she was quite a liberal woman.”

“That would be putting it mildly,” Scott said wryly. “She is at the center of many rumors. If only half are true, she leads a very interesting life. Her husband, Henri, has parlayed a distant relationship to the French general who succored us during our revolution into a position of a buyer for France.”

“What does he buy?”

“Congressmen,” Scott answered. “Henri D'Estaing may look like a plump little piece of pastry, but he is quite efficient at what he does. France has designs on Mexico, and it is in their interest to keep us from protesting their involvement too vehemently.”

Interesting, Nathan thought. “Valerie, I mean Madame D'Estaing, was with an American woman who was dressed in black, a Mrs. Devon. I presume she is a widow.”

Scott thought for a moment. “She is Mrs. Rebecca Devon. Her husband was an administrator in the War Department until he marched off to save his nation and was killed at Bull Run. I had met both of them. She's a very pleasant and intelligent woman, and reasonably attractive if you like them that thin and can ignore that scar on her neck that she tries to conceal. She was very much pro abolition and in favor of war to stop secession and free the slaves. Sadly, like so many other people, her wishes came true and contained within them the seeds of tragedy.”

“And her late husband?” Nathan asked, curiously.

“Never speak ill of the dead. Before the battle there were rumors of corruption. He was a crony of Cameron's and heartily disliked by Meigs.”

Nathan had thought Mrs. Devon to be almost gaunt, not thin. However, the sudden loss of her husband might have contributed to that state. He hadn't noticed any scar, but she had been wearing a high-necked dress. “Mrs. Devon struck me as being almost puritanical in comparison with Madame D'Estaing, yet they seemed to be friends. It struck me as a strange combination.”

“There is no such thing as a strange friendship in this city, Nathan. That is something else you will realize before long.”

“I also met a Captain John Knollys of the British army who is now an attache at the British embassy. He was hanging on Madame D'Estaing like he was afraid she would run away. Captain Knollys did not wear his uniform. He informed me that he was afraid he'd be lynched if he walked down the street with it.”

“He might be right,” Scott said.

“He also said that the British embassy is packed up and ready to leave with very short notice. He, too, feels that war is imminent. He said that Lord Lyons is virtually distraught at the prospect. Knollys seemed like a pleasant sort. It's a shame he will be our enemy. Of course, I say that about friends who've sworn allegiance to the South.”

They talked for some time about others at the reception. It was evident to Nathan that General Scott missed being the center of attention, or at least near the center.

Scott had served fifteen presidents in his long lifetime. He had first risen to prominence in the War of 1812, and later had conquered Mexico in that unfortunate War of 1845. His campaign into Mexico City was considered by many military experts to be a tactical masterpiece. Nathan thought that to be retired and unable to lead in this greatest of American wars by virtue of his age must gall him terribly.

Nathan changed the subject. He talked about all the others who were at the salon, such as the musicians who tried and failed to play in the background, and of the hundred or so who had been in attendance.

“That will probably be the last of these sorts of social occasions,” Scott mused. “If war with England does come, the French will try very hard not to draw attention to themselves because of the Mexican situation, and they are the only ones interested in perpetuating Washington's social whirls. The Lincolns will do no unnecessary socializing. Mr. Lincoln will defer to his wife, who is terrified of those sorts of events. I'm afraid there'll only be formal receptions from now on, and, God knows, they aren't very pleasant at all.”

“What will happen now,” Nathan asked, “regarding your note to Mr. Lincoln?”

“As I said before, we wait on both England and Mr. Lincoln. I am confident that the president will contact me, if only out of courtesy tinged with curiosity. I am just as confident that we will be at war with England when that time comes.”

Viscount Lord Palmerston, prime minister of England, was quickly relearning an unpleasant truth regarding warfare in the nineteenth century. Specifically, it was much easier to declare war than to wage it.

The Royal Navy was in relatively good shape and perfectly capable of overwhelming the far smaller and less modern Union navy. Even though there were more than three hundred vessels listed by British intelligence as warships in the U.S. Navy, the vast majority were converted civilian craft that had been renamed, had a cannon or two mounted on them, and then been sent on to blockade Charleston, New Orleans, Mobile, and other Southern ports. The fact of their existence could easily be dismissed.

The only warships of note in the Union fleet were a dozen or so new steam sloops of war. The Union would likely use these as commerce raiders. This was a concern, as American raiders had made life miserable for British commerce in both the Revolution and the War of 1812. Royal Navy ships would have to be detached to hunt them down, and British ships could not make the same mistake as the navy did in 1812. The American sloops would be fierce combatants and likely win in battles with ships their own size. Thus, they must be overwhelmed and not dueled.

There were rumors of ironclads being built on the Union part of the Mississippi, and at least one was definitely under construction in New York. Palmerston understood that iron and steam defined the navy of the future, but he saw no threat from the Union ships. The Union ironclads were too small to be effective and would be confined to shallow waters. They would not challenge the Royal Navy and its iron-hulled battleships theWarrior and theBlack Prince. TheWarrior and her twin were the largest and most powerful ships in the world. She would be sent to American waters to impress both the Union and the Confederacy with the power of England's navy. TheBlack Prince would remain in English waters.

No. the Royal Navy would acquit itself quite well, Palmerston concluded.

The problem, as Palmerston saw it, was with the wretched condition of the British army. On paper it seemed formidable, but that was misleading. There were more than two hundred thousand men in the army, but far too many were scattered across the world in small garrisons where their presence was needed to protect Imperial interests. Thus, there were few reserves to draw on.

Worse, many regiments were at less than full strength. Britain depended on volunteers to fill her army's ranks, and the last war, the Crimean War, had been an unpopular one. It had shown the horrors of war and the inadequacies of the British military medical system, which left thousands of British men to die of disease and neglect.

So, while there were many who supported the war, they did not favor it to the extent that they were willing to enlist and risk their lives. There had been an initial burst of enlistments, but that had died down quickly. Anger towards the Union did not extend to reliving the horrors of the Crimea.

“Canada is our Achilles' heel,” Palmerston mused. “We must reinforce Canada. The Americans have tried twice in the last two wars to take it, and they will surely do so again. It is the only part of the empire they can reach, and it is a part of our empire that is most important to us. In the long run. it might even be more important than India. The last time the Americans tried, in the War of 1812, they attempted it with only a couple of thousand men and almost succeeded. Now they can send thirty or forty thousand against it.”

Lord Russell nodded. “What do we have there at the present?”

“Five regiments of British regulars plus one regiment of Canadian regulars. Barely a corporal's guard. Should the Union get it into their head to invade, there would be little to stop them. I have, however, taken some steps. On receipt of the information regarding theTrent, I sent a message to Canada to call out the militia and prepare for invasion. Between the regulars and the militia, there might be fifty thousand men to defend all of Ontario and Quebec, with damned little left to protect the rest. We must not lose Canada!''

It was unnecessary for him to add that the citizens of Canada, both English and those of French heritage, had been close to rebelling against Mother England. They were tired of a lack of representation in London, and negotiations were ongoing to give them semi-independent status. Palmerston feared losing Canada as Britain had lost the American colonies, and for the same reasons.

Russell was surprised. “Are you having second thoughts, Prime Minister?”

“No, but I admit I am concerned about time and distance. I have ordered several squadrons of warships to American waters both to open the Southern ports and to protect our small squadron in the Caribbean. We cannot have the Caribbean squadron overwhelmed and the United States given a victory on a platter. I have also ordered a number of Scottish regiments under General Sir Colin Campbell to report to Canada. It galls me that it will take two months to get them organized and supplied, find proper shipping, form up a convoy, and then get them to Canada. By that time, Union forces could be marching through the streets of Ottawa.”

“Do you really think that will happen?”

Palmerston chuckled. “No, I do not. I expect that Mr. Lincoln and his government will be paralyzed and indecisive, thus letting the window of opportunity close. By the way, General Campbell will report to the overall commander, Lord Cardigan.”

Russell winced. “Is that wise?”

Cardigan had been a controversial figure in the Crimean War and was held at least partly to blame for the failure of the Light Brigade's attack on Russian positions. He was unpopular with his fellow officers, querulous, stubborn, and argumentative.

“At the moment, he is the best choice available. As in previous conflicts with the United States, several general officers have declined to participate. We will control Cardigan, which brings up another point. We need the Atlantic cable.”

Two attempts had been made to connect North America with Europe by means of a telegraph cable. The first had failed utterly, but the second attempt had been a partial success. Signals had been transmitted back and forth for several weeks until they became weak, distorted, and finally ceased.

“It now takes ten days for a message to cross the ocean in a fast ship,” Palmerston said. “Presuming, of course, that a fast ship is available and that neither bad weather nor mechanical problems develop. That is intolerable. We can communicate with virtually every major city by telegraph except those in the Americas. The good shipAgamemnon was our half of the cable-laying enterprise, and I have directed her to seek out and repair the damage. She is at sea as we speak.”

“Excellent,” said Russell. “Although not having swift communications with Washington served us well in the past weeks. Think of what might have occurred had Ambassador Adams been able to contact Lincoln with the news of our taking of theSt. Lawrence. Lincoln might have called it a quid pro quo and pushed harder for a peace that we might have had to accept. God knows Adams did.”

Ambassador Adams had virtually gotten on his knees in front of Palmerston to make the case that, since each nation had lost a ship, honor had been satisfied. This viewpoint had been iterated in Parliament by Palmerston’s opponents and by opposition newspapers. The attack by theGorgon on the smaller American ship had managed to dampen some people's enthusiasm for the war, although others thought it was a grand start to an ultimate victory.

“You are correct, of course,” Palmerston said, “but now we need communications. Along with the declaration of war, I have sent Ambassador Lyons in Washington notification that he is to proceed to Richmond and be our representative there.”

Russell arched an eyebrow at the terminology. “But not ambassador?”

To call Lyons an ambassador would mean that Great Britain had officially recognized the existence of the Confederacy as a sovereign nation. This was what the Confederacy desperately wanted. However, after almost a year into its existence, no major nation had officially recognized it.

“We are not quite ready to recognize the Confederacy as a sovereign state. I have had several notes from our beloved Queen Victoria, who, despite her anguish over Prince Albert's most recent death, has managed to make her views known on the issue. Although she dislikes the Union for its arrogance, rudeness, and crass commercialism, she considers a formal alliance between ourselves and a nation that condones slavery to be most repugnant. She said she would do all in her considerable powers to stop such an alliance and I am afraid she would succeed. The queen may only reign and not rule, but she is beloved and has enormous moral influence. No, there shall be no recognition and no alliance at this time.”

“So what are you planning?” Russell asked. He was confident that Palmerston had something planned. Palmerston always planned.

“Historically, Great Britain has preferred to fight on the oceans while other nations did the bulk of the fighting on the land. We are a seafaring people, not a land power. Let others fight land battles. The armies of the Confederacy fill the bill. They will fight on the land while we sweep the oceans.”

“But we will not be allies?”

“Associates,” Palmerston amended. “The fact that we have a common enemy does not necessarily require that we be allies any more than that relatives also be friends. We will be associates in name and allies in fact. I have sent a message on to Richmond for Lord Lyons in which this is outlined. It also contains stipulations regarding the future of slavery as it may impact on any formal treaty and any specific future aid that we might give the Confederacy.”

Russell thought the whole idea to be an excellent one. Still, he saw several potential problems. For one thing, the Confederacy had been victorious in its battles with the larger and potentially stronger Union, proving that the Union armies were inept and poorly led. But how long would that last? If the larger Union forces found leaders, then the smaller Confederate army might start to bleed away.

And then there was the question of the British people's support for a war that supported slavery and did not threaten national security. How long would that support last?

And finally, there was the question of the enthusiasm of Lord Richard Lyons. Ambassador Lyons was a shy, retiring, and almost scholarly bachelor who abhorred violence and seemed to be quite fond of the United States. How effective would he be as the representative of Her Majesty to the enemies of the United States? Russell sincerely hoped that Lord Palmerston knew what he was doing.

Abraham Lincoln came at night with John Hay. The only others with him were the carriage driver and another man, a bodyguard.

The first thing that impressed Nathan about Lincoln was his height. He was even taller than General Scott, who towered over most people. Between the two men, Nathan felt positively diminutive. At least Hay was shorter than he and seemed to enjoy Nathan's brief discomfiture.

Where Scott was enormously bulky, Lincoln was as lanky and lean as the pictures the nation had seen. Like Scott, he truly was a living caricature of himself. What was surprising was Lincoln's face and his hands. His deeply lined face was that of a man a decade older than a man not yet fifty-three years of age. Although his sad eyes were rimmed with wrinkles, his mouth curled in a friendly smile.

Lincoln's hands were large and his fingers extremely long. His hands looked almost delicate, and it was difficult to relate them to the fact that Lincoln had been a wrestler and a farm worker in his youth. The hands were those of an artist or a pianist.

“Let me guess,” Lincoln said, speaking first to General Scott, “you have returned to Washington because you are concerned about the direction the country is taking and that there might be war with Great Britain.”

“Indeed, sir, although I have no doubts about war with England. It will happen.”

Lincoln accepted coffee from a very confused and nervous Bridget Conlin, Scott's housekeeper. She curtsied and left abruptly.

“I hold out every hope that Ambassador Adams will see to it that cooler heads prevail. I have also heard it from Ambassador Lyons that England does not want war.”

“But Palmerston does,” Scott said tersely. “I've studied his speeches and his writings, and I've spoken to those who know him. He sees this as an opportunity to advance British causes while hampering ours. We will have war.”

Lincoln blinked. The blunt statement had surprised him. “Let us presume that you are correct. What do you propose?”

“I wish to counsel you. I love this country and do not wish to see her dismembered. Remember, everything I said about the duration of the war and what would be necessary to win it is coming true. What had been disparaged as an Anaconda Plan is now reality.”

“Yes, it is,” Lincoln admitted. “But such counsel as you would give would be military in nature, would it not? Shouldn't it be directed towards General McClellan?”

“Sir, General McClellan listens to no one. I thought it impossible, but in McClellan we have a gentleman whose ego is even greater than mine.”

Lincoln smiled. “What is even more remarkable is that it is contained in such a small body. Yes, I agree with you. McClellan gives advice; he does not ask for it.”

Nathan looked towards Hay, who nodded. There had been rumors that McClellan had personally snubbed Lincoln, even refused to see his commander in chief when he'd arrived at McClellan's headquarters. Lincoln had tolerated the aberration in hopes that his conceited commanding general would win the war. If that were done, then rudeness was forgivable.

“McClellan has created a fine army,” Lincoln said.

“Yes he has, Mr. President, but has he used it? McClellan is a man of vast intellect, yet, in my opinion, he is afraid to risk what he has. I understand that he believes the rebel forces to be much larger than his, which is most unlikely. Yet he uses it as an excuse, and will continue to use it as a reason for his inertia. I wonder what excuses he will have for inaction when the British jump in?”

Lincoln stood. The brief meeting was coming to an end. “Yet he is the general we have and the general we must support. I am not ready to take your counsel, General, and I may never be, although I do not deny that it could happen.'^7

Scott nodded and rose slowly. “This is about what I expected at this time. Sadly, McClellan must fail for our nation to succeed. I will not be leaving Washington. I will remain here with Mr. Hunter for however long is necessary. Should you change your mind, I believe Mr. Hunter would be an effective intermediary.”

Lincoln understood. Through Nathan and John Hay he could receive advice without ever having to admit it. “I truly appreciate what you are saying. However, I hope our future is not as grim as you feel it might be,” Lincoln said. “Be that as it may, I am pleased at one thing.”

“And that is, sir?”

Lincoln smiled engagingly. “That you are not senile, sir. Those rumors appear to be great exaggerations.”

At that moment, Sergeant Fromm opened the door to the study and John Nicolai, Lincoln's senior secretary, burst in. “Mr. President,” Nicolai gasped. “Ambassador Lyons wishes to see you at the White House. Dispatches have just arrived. It is war with England.”

Lincoln sagged as if struck by a blow. He gave them a stricken look, wheeled, and virtually ran out to his carriage.

The White House meeting was held in a room adjacent to President Lincoln's second-floor office. Hastily called, Secretary of State William Seward, Secretary of War Simon Cameron, Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles, and the commanding general, Major General George McClellan, were the only attendees except, of course, President Lincoln and his young secretary, John Hay. Lincoln took his seat at the head of the table and Hay sat behind him against the wall. It was his job to take notes for Lincoln to review at a later time should he so wish.

Even had the circumstances been pleasant, it would not have been a congenial group. Secretary of State Seward was a man who wished to be president and had nearly become one. He felt that Lincoln had snatched the 1860 Republican nomination from him, and that he was far more qualified to run the nation than a man he thought of as a bumpkin and who he tried to overawe and dominate. Seward was often heavy-handed in his dealings with European nations, and had appeared to favor war with Britain as a means of settling disputes. He now appeared shaken by the reality of what had occurred.

Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles had no naval background, but that had not kept him from expanding the navy and doing so fairly efficiently. Welles was keenly intelligent, hardworking, and an excellent judge of administrative talent. He had chosen one Gustavus Fox to be his chief clerk and assistant, and the partnership had worked well. The navy was in good hands.

McClellan commanded the armies in the field. Although trim of figure and impeccably dressed in a uniform that made him look imperial, he appeared uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

Last was Secretary of War Simon Cameron. Often referred to as the Czar of Pennsylvania, his appointment to the position was a political debt Lincoln had felt obliged to keep. As Lincoln glanced about the room, Hay noted that he looked on Cameron with contempt. The man had become synonymous with incompetence and corruption. It had been Cameron who had maneuvered the resignation of General Scott. Cameron would have to go. Lincoln had already decided to appoint him ambassador to Russia and replace him with Edwin Stanton.

In an attempt to dominate both Lincoln and the meeting, Seward spoke first and without awaiting Lincoln's permission.

“Ambassador Lyons came to see me today. He said he had assurances from Prime Minister Palmerston that Ambassador Adams and his staff would be sent either to France or on a neutral ship for New York. He inquired as to the safety of his people and I assured him that they would come to no harm. That includes his consular officials at Boston, New York, and elsewhere, along with the observers accompanying our army. Of course, that presumes they do nothing rash. I did ask Lyons to gather his people at their embassy and have arranged for police protection.” Seward laughed gruffly. “I almost felt sorry for the man.”

“I'm sure you got over it,” Lincoln said drily. “Then what?”

“He asked for permission to proceed south to Richmond. I immediately realized that he^’ d been appointed to some position with the rebels and declined his request. I allowed that since Canada was part of his empire, he could damn well proceed north and cross into Canadian territory at Niagara. He wasn't pleased, but we're not in this to make him comfortable.”

Lincoln nodded. It was a petty thing to do, but it felt good. “Do you think they will negotiate now that we are equal?”

Seward shrugged. It was an obvious reference to the loss of the St. Lawrence. “When they are ready, and not sooner. Old Palmerston has it in his power to see the United States permanently split apart and no longer a threat to England.”

Lincoln was confused. “We are no threat to him.”

“Every country is,” Seward said. “He sees enemies everywhere.”

“The Union must be preserved,” Lincoln said, his voice almost a whisper. He turned towards Welles. “And the navy?”

Welles was a portrait of controlled fury. “I fear that the loss of theSt. Lawrence is not the only one we've suffered; rather, it is the only one we know about. I'm afraid that British warships are gobbling up unsuspecting merchantmen and some of our naval vessels that don't even know there's a war on. It is nothing more than a high-seas ambush.”

“True enough,” Lincoln said.

“I have, however, taken certain steps. Fast ships are en route to our blockade stations to warn the squadrons there of the fact of the war and to expect the imminent arrival of the British fleet. They will be informed to flee at the first sign of a British presence. We do not have a ship out there that can stand up to a British ship of the line and I would not have our men slaughtered.”

“Excellent,” said Lincoln. “Regrettable, but absolutely correct.”

“I have also ordered that our venerable old wooden sailing ships be sent upriver and otherwise hidden after their guns have been removed and emplaced as shore batteries. Relics like theConstitution wouldn't last more than a moment in today's warfare, and I'm certain the British would love to sinkOld Ironsides.”

TheConstitution had been enormously successful against the British in the War of 1812, and had been in use as a training ship at the Naval Academy. She had been towed up to Rhode Island and hidden.

“Tell me, can our sailing ships be turned into steam vessels?” Lincoln inquired.

Welles was ready with the answer. “Only after a great deal of time and expense. After which, we would have old ships that are either underpowered, undergunned, or both. No, we are far better off with newer ships like theNew Ironsides, or even theMonitor.”

TheNew Ironsides was a steam frigate with a wooden hull that would be sheathed in armor. She was scheduled for launching that coming May. TheMonitor was a small ironclad of radical design that had been under construction in New York since late October. She was built in response to the reports that the Confederates were making an ironclad out of the burned hull of the Union frigateMerrimack. They had renamed the ship theVirginia, but everyone still used the old name.

John Hay saw the dismay on Lincoln's face. Only a handful of ships would be able to confront the British. Welles continued. “Any of our steam sloops that we can contact have been ordered to sea as commerce raiders.”

“Privateers?” Secretary of War Cameron asked. The question brought him a scathing look from Welles.

“The world's civilized nations signed a treaty saying we would not use privateers, which are, of course, little more than legitimized pirates. Not even the rebels have countenanced privateers. No, we will use regular navy ships as commerce raiders, although,” he grinned uncharacteristically, “we may just use quite a number of them.”

Lincoln smiled and Hay caught the feeling of relief. Swarms of American “navy” ships would be commissioned and sent against the British. The English would squeal as much as the American merchants were going to. It would help keep large numbers of Royal Navy warships busy. The United States was not quite helpless at sea against the British monolith.

Welles continued. “Our coastal cities will be in grave danger, so I must emphasize the need for strong defenses. Shore batteries must be built and quickly.”

“Dear God,” said Cameron, a look of panic on his face. “British ships could sail right up the Potomac and bombard us. We must make plans to evacuate Washington.”

Welles glared at Cameron before responding. “If you hadn't noticed, very few ships came up the Potomac before the war, and those that did were relatively small. That is because the river is fairly shallow. I assure you that no major British ships will bombard Washington, and that the defenses, which General McClellan has caused to be built, are more than adequate to stifle any aggression on the part of the smaller British ships. No, I think we should be more concerned with Boston, Baltimore, New York, Hartford, and, since the British have ships everywhere, San Francisco.” A thought appeared to strike him. “Good lord, they could even send ships up the Mississippi to St. Louis!”

Later, John Hay related all of this to Nathan Hunter over an early dinner at Willard's Hotel. There were few people in the dining room and they were placed so they could speak in normal tones without being overheard. To anyone observing them, they were two friends enjoying a meal and a glass of wine. No one knew who Nathan was. and Hay wasn't that much of a celebrity.

Hay sat back in his chair and picked a piece of steak from between his teeth with a toothpick. “After determining that a British thrust up the Mississippi as far as St. Louis was unlikely, we then got to the army's role in future events. And when we were done. President Lincoln informed me that I should tell you all that transpired so that you could tell General Scott.”

Nathan pretended casualness. “I take it General McClellan was not enthusiastic about fighting England along with the South?”

“An understatement,” Hay said.

McClellan had informed the group that he'd had two offensives in the planning stages and that both of them required naval support. One was an attack on New Orleans, and the second was a major thrust against Richmond by way of the Chesapeake Bay and the James River peninsula. He said they'd have to be abandoned because the British could isolate the New Orleans endeavor and wreak havoc with his supply lines in what he referred to as his Peninsular Campaign. The logic was compelling and this had been agreed upon. McClellan then pronounced that, since the Union army would be even more outnumbered than it was now, it should go on the defensive altogether.

“With that, Mr. Lincoln absolutely disagreed,” Hay said. “He informed McClellan and Secretary Cameron that the Union army had more than three hundred and fifty thousand well-trained and armed men in its ranks around Washington and should not stand down. In particular, the president saw no reason why operations should not continue around the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, where the British were highly unlikely to come, and down the Shenandoah Valley, which is quite a ways from any ocean. After thinking it over, McClellan agreed, although grudgingly. Cameron seemed paralyzed. I don't recall that he said a word. I think he still visualizes British men-of-war steaming up the Potomac.”

Hay helped himself to a piece of cake from a tray offered by a waiter. Nathan found it hard not to grin as he dug into it with glee. Hay may be Lincoln's trusted confidant, but he was still a little boy in many respects.

“Mr. Lincoln then told McClellan what he expected him to do in the east,” Hay said through a full mouth. “He said that Mac was right and that the British would soon arrive in the South with all sorts of cannon, rifles, and ammunition for the rebels. Thus, he said, the rebels were never going to be any weaker than they were right now. Therefore, Mac should attack forthwith and with all the troops he was going to use against New Orleans and along the James River Peninsula. Mr. Lincoln said that Mac should attack straight towards Richmond and go directly for Jefferson Davis's throat with the main army.”

This time Nathan did smile. Lincoln had a little more steel in him than he'd thought from their one meeting. “Mac demurred?”

“Loudly. He said it would be suicide. He said the rebels outnumbered him by fifty thousand, maybe even more, and were behind impregnable fortifications. He then said it might be time for Lincoln to settle for what they could get and negotiate a treaty with the rebels. I tell you, Nathan, I have never seen such a look of disbelief on Mr. Lincoln's face. His own commanding general was counseling giving up after building an army and never once having used it to fight.”

“Don't tell me that is what's going to happen?” Nathan said.

“No. After much wrangling and arguing, McClellan has agreed on an offensive towards Richmond. Whether he leads it in person or delegates it to someone else, like General Pope, is an open point. They will march south after the first of the year as soon as intelligence says the roads are passable. Mr. Lincoln had to agree that military operations would be virtually impossible until Virginia dries up, and that might not happen for weeks. Hopefully, thatwiii still give Mac or whoever he appoints plenty of time to drive on towards Richmond before the British presence is felt.”

“Very good,” Nathan said. He had much to tell General Scott. Most important was the fact that Lincoln had begun to be disenchanted with General McClellan. “One thing disturbs me:” Hay said. “And what is that?”

“The way McClellan was talking, he will march his army down the same way McDowell did, which will take it through Bull Run again. It would be horrible if we had to fight again in that graveyard.”