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“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.”

  Chapter Four

  Even though they were apparent opposites in many ways, Rebecca Devon and Valerie D'Estaing had been friends for several years. Rebecca was very quiet and studious, and struck those who first met her as plain and severe. She wore her pro-abolition stance as a badge of honor and despised anyone who even talked of compromising on the slavery i
ssue. Valerie D'Estaing was outgoing and vivacious, liberal and tolerant in her views, and took chances with her reputation that sometimes shocked the more conservative Rebecca Devon.

  They did, however, share a love of learning, art, and politics. Rebecca envied the Frenchwoman's ability to live her own life and not wait on the pleasure of others. It occurred to Rebecca that European women of status were far more liberated than Americans were.

  Valerie D'Estaing was also one of those people who was genuinely concerned about the welfare of others, in particular those whom she considered her friends. Among her virtues Valerie included loyalty. Thus, she had been almost as shocked as Rebecca had been when Thomas Devon died as an aftermath of Bull Run. She had stood by Rebecca at the graveside and had tried to help her work through her grief although she sometimes thought there had been more to the relationship between Rebecca and Thomas than she had known.

  Valerie was gratified that her efforts at solace were starting to bear fruit. Always a slender person, Rebecca had become almost unhealthily gaunt from not eating, and had withdrawn into a world of her own. Now she was starting to eat well again and had actually gained some weight. The hollows in her cheeks had begun to fill and her eyes, always Rebecca's best feature since they were large and expressive, once again looked lively and not haunted. The results made Valerie D'Estaing extremely happy. It was time to take the next several steps to ensure Rebecca's complete recovery. Rebecca, however, had ideas of her own.

  “Tell me,” Rebecca said as they strolled down Pennsylvania Avenue on a day that was bright enough and warm enough to encourage such late-December activities, “have you heard from Captain Knollys?”

  Rebecca grinned as Valerie sighed emotionally. “My British lover has flown, probably never to return. I shall have to find another. Fortunately, that should

  not take too long with so many fine young warriors in the city. However, you may be more successful at that than I.”

  Rebecca flushed. “I have never taken a lover. That is your game, dear Valerie, not mine.”