Authors: Robert Conroy
Tags: #Alternative histories (Fiction), #Alternative History, #Fiction, #United States, #United States - History - Civil War; 1861-1865, #Historical, #War & Military, #Civil War Period (1850-1877), #History
“And Grant is a drunkard, is he not?” Lincoln asked harshly.
Nathan was a little taken aback by the accusation. “No, sir, I do not believe he is.”
“Then what is he?”
“Sir, I don’t know what he is now, but back then he was a lonely and confused man. He was deeply devoted to his wife and child and was terribly lost without them. Humboldt was a miserable place where boredom was constant and desertion rife. Grant drank because he was lonely. I understand that when he’s with his family or busy, he doesn’t drink, at least not to excess.”
“How did you come to know this?” Lincoln asked.
Nathan managed a small smile. “He told me. I was bored, too. I drank with him on occasion.”
“Yet he was threatened with court-martial and resigned. Are you implying that the charge was not justified?”
“Of course it was justified, sir,” Nathan responded. “He was drunk on duty. Only thing was, so was I. The commandant decided to make an example of Grant, whom he didn’t like. I offered to testify on Grant’s behalf, but Grant told me not to bother. He was going to resign and go back to Ohio with his family.”
“Which he did and made a total mess of everything he touched as a civilian,” injected Scott. “He was appointed a colonel of volunteers by the governor of Ohio for the simple reason that the governor didn’t have anyone else to appoint. From then on, we’ve seen a rejuvenation of the man.”
Lincoln nodded thoughtfully. “And he does fight. Halleck doesn’t like him,” he said to Scott. “He’s said so in his reports.” Scott chuckled. “Grant has proven himself better in the field than Halleck. Old Brains is jealous of other people’s success.”
Lincoln paused, deep in thought. Finally he made his decision. “General, there is much merit in what you have said regarding England’s role and her vulnerability. However, I must deal with a nation and a Congress that sees the real enemy as the Confederacy, and the heart of that enemy is its capital of Richmond. Sadly, we live in a political world and I must confront political realities. I’ve had to make many compromises and I will make more. For instance, I have appointed political mediocrities to military command in order to keep the remaining states satisfied and in line with my program of conquest of the South. To make what appears to be a digression in the war effort would be met with resounding and unmovable resistance. No, until and if the British give us a reason to change our focus and shift our priorities, we will not do anything significant regarding Canada.
“As regards the rest of it, General, I shall do what you suggest. Halleck will be transferred here to function as my administrator, and you shall be my adviser as regards the war. We shall send a column westward under McDowell, and I agree that Meade shall command here in Washington. But Canada? Not yet.”
“And what about General Grant?” Nathan asked with a boldness that surprised him.
Lincoln smiled and it appeared to Nathan that it was the same smile that a cat would give a cornered canary. “General Scott trusts you, and it is likely that General Grant will as well. Therefore, I would like you to go to Grant with a private message. Simply put, he is to hold himself ready to invade Canada and to prepare for it. However, he is not to move until I give him the specific go-ahead. Any thoughts of Canada must be secret. He should tell his staff that he is planning a thrust down the Mississippi, which he doubtless is anyway. Will you do that for me?”
Nathan felt his heart racing. “I am honored, sir.”
Hannibal Watson and his band had garnered a number of weapons. Along with knives, axes, and something called a machete, they had a couple of muskets and ammunition, which they’d taken from the Farnums’.
What they didn’t have was the knowledge to use them. Two things were forbidden to slaves more than any other. One was literacy, since knowledge is power, and the second was how to kill using a rifle.
Hannibal had seen white people load and fire guns, and he thought he understood the basics. Prudently, he decided to experiment with very small charges of powder. Even so, he was shocked by the thunder and power of the resulting explosion. But mainly it was the power that enthralled him.
By trial and error, and with no serious accidents, they figured out how to fire their guns with killing effect. But now their numbers had grown to a dozen, and they needed more weapons to defend their newfound freedom. It was then that Hannibal came up with the idea of attacking their stalkers.
They had no idea whether the armed men in and around the woods in which they hid were after them in particular or runaway slaves in general. Hannibal thought it likely that there were many bands like his made up of other Negroes seeking freedom up north. As a result, slave catching had become a lucrative business. Any Negro man or woman who could not account for himself or herself in a proper or polite manner was considered a runaway.
For the slave catcher, times were good.
Three white men squatted by the campfire in the woodland clearing. Although dressed in rags, they were armed with rifles and pistols and had large knives in their belts. Slung by their saddles were chains to shackle captured runaways, and whips to beat them into submission. The three had been drinking heavily when Hannibal signalled for Bessie to make her entrance.
Nervously, almost shyly, Bessie shed herself of her clothing. Then she rolled in the dirt and mussed her hair to make herself disheveled and filthy. She smiled tentatively at Hannibal and staggered in the direction of the campfire, moaning loudly.
The three men heard the sounds and lurched to their feet just as Bessie emerged naked into the firelight. Even though she had lost weight during their flight, she was still a large woman and her pendulous breasts swayed as she lurched forward. She looked in sudden alarm at the three men, screamed, and ran back into the dark and the surrounding woods. Hannibal chuckled grimly. She hadn’t had to pretend to be terrified. That scream was real.
“Goddamn!” yelled one of the slave catchers. “A free one.” They grabbed their rifles and stumbled after her. Within a few yards, they had stretched out and were no longer a group of three. Bessie could still be seen, stumbling and crying out, a few yards ahead. They made no move to shoot her. As Hannibal’d figured, they wanted her alive. Even if she wasn’t worth much money, their shouts made it obvious that Bessie was going to be raped.
Finally, she disappeared into a stand of bushes. The first two slave catchers paused, wondering where she’d emerge. When they stopped, both concealed muskets fired and bullets struck them, knocking them to the ground. With a howl, others in Hannibal’s band hurled themselves on the two men. The third slave catcher ran up just in time to be inundated by a sea of angry black humanity waving knives and axes.
Hannibal watched with grim satisfaction as the three slave catchers were chopped to bloody pieces while Bessie regained her clothing. He was not happy with the fact that neither Negro rifleman had killed his target. One catcher had been shot in the leg and the other in the shoulder. No matter, he decided, the catchers were just meat now. and marksmanship would surely improve with practice and experience. Until now, only he had actually killed anyone, but now all of his band had participated in it. Better, they now had three more rifles, and three pistols. They were becoming a force to be reckoned with. They were free. They would stay free.
Or they would kill and die trying.
Rebecca offered tea, which Nathan accepted politely. Tea was not his favorite hot drink. Given a choice, he would have preferred coffee or even hot chocolate.
They were in Rebecca’s cousin’s overly ornate sitting room. It was the first time he’d been to her Washington home and he was curious as to how she lived, even though it wasn’t her house. There was a sense of prosperity in the dwelling, but not great wealth. It was obvious that Rebecca was very comfortable in it.
They were alone in the sitting room but, to maintain propriety, they sat on chairs facing each other. The door to the hallway was also open. The others in the house respected their privacy while giving them no room for mischief.
Nathan thought it amusing that there was so much concern on her cousins’ part for other people’s virtue. When he hinted of the incongruity to Rebecca, she’d laughed heartily. After all, they were both formerly married and, presumably, far from being innocent children.
Rebecca wore a blue floral print dress that was very summery. The neckline exposed a hint of shoulder, and the sleeves were short and showed her slender arms. The overall effect was to make her look more vibrant than he’d seen before. She had virtually ceased wearing mourning clothes: and this dress was an announcement that she was done with them. That dismal time of her life was over, she’d told him. and she didn’t care what convention said. Her marriage to the unlamented Thomas Devon was to be put aside.
The mildly daring cut of the gown also showed the scar on her neck. He took this as a further sign of her growing independence and freedom from the past. “So: Nathan: once again you are leaving me,” she said reprovingly.
Nathan put down his half-empty cup and reached for a cookie. They were sugar cookies and much better in his opinion than the tea. “Believe me: I’d rather stay here. The cookies are delicious. Did you make them?”
“I know that duty calls you. I also accept that you’d rather not tell me what you’re up to and I respect that. And no, I didn’t make the cookies. Everything I bake burns.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
“However,” she said with a widening smile, “let me see what I can surmise without compromising your precious oath of secrecy. First, you were seen yesterday with General Scott and President Lincoln. Then you suddenly decide you must leave Washington. I will surmise that it had something to do with that meeting.”
Nathan gulped. “How did you know about the meeting?”
Again she laughed. “Nathan, it was in the paper. I saw it in today’s
National Intelligencer.
The next time you hold what you hope to be a clandestine meeting, don’t hold it out of doors and where many hundreds of people are employed and probably watching through windows.”
“Point well taken,” Nathan admitted with a grin. “You’re right, it does have to do with that meeting, but don’t push me to admit more.”
“Again, you don’t have to. I can’t imagine anything that would concern Mr. Lincoln or General Scott in either New York, Boston, Philadelphia, or Pittsburgh. Therefore, that means you will be heading farther west and will consult with some of your old army friends, or even new army friends.”
“An interesting thought,” Nathan said. Her prescience was surprising and intriguing.
“Grant.” she said, feigning surprise. “You’re going to see General Grant, and it has to do with a future campaign. And see, I didn’t ask you a question, so you don’t have to lie to me.”
“You’re amazing.”
“Nathan, sometimes I have a habit of talking and thinking too much and that sometimes intimidates people. There are many who don’t like inquisitive and intelligent women, and I like to think of myself as both. I sincerely hope you’re not one of those men.”
“I don’t think I’d be here if I was.”
Rebecca almost sighed with relief. “Tell me, was your lovely Amy intelligent?”
“Very,” he said softly. “She and I talked about matters great and small each day. She read incessantly, and I did as much reading as my duties would permit. Our talks were the high point of each day’s existence. We could almost complete each others sentences.”
Rebecca almost ached in envy that such a relationship could exist. She leaned forward. “Nathan, this is highly impertinent of me, but, given your deep love for her, I must know something. Are you looking for another Amy? If you are, my dear friend, I am not she.”
This was a question that had haunted Nathan until he found he was able to resolve it. “No, Rebecca, I am not looking for another Amy. There can never be another Amy any more than a parent’s second child can be identical to the first. Amy is gone and I shall always cherish the memory. Any woman who comes into my life will not be another Amy, nor will she be compared to her. If I were to come into your life, then I would not compare you to Amy any more than I would expect to be compared to your late husband.”
“You’d come out ahead very easily,” she said softly and reached over to take his hand. She had told him virtually all about her relationship with Tom, leaving out only the specifics of their sexual life. ’This time, when you’re gone, please try harder to stay out of harm’s way. I know there is no major fighting currently going on in the west, but you do seem to find trouble.”
“I shall stay as safe as I can. Besides, according to McClellan’s and Pinkerton’s calculations, there can’t be any rebels to the west. They’re all here in their millions.”
“Pinkerton,” she sniffed. “I believe he’s still following me.”
“You’re certain?” Nathan asked, his voice suddenly cold and hard. What on earth was McClellan’s toady doing spying on his and Rebecca’s private lives?
“Almost certain. I’ve seen what looks like him trying to disguise himself, and I’ve seen other men who appear to be following me. They’re not in any way threatening, though. They’re also not very good at what they’re doing.” She laughed in an attempt to brighten the conversation, which had suddenly taken a darker turn.
“I’m glad they don’t bother you.” But I still don’t like it, Nathan thought. He decided he would do something about it.
The clock in the hallway chimed. It was time for him to leave. There was a train to catch. “I’ve got to go,” he said and rose.
Rebecca stood in front of him and pinned both his arms to his side. “Please do not do anything risky. This time, if you see something interesting, ride the other way. I mean it.”
“I’m sure you do.” He grinned. “And I mean it too.”
They both glanced at the doorway. No one seemed to be around. She slid into his arms and they embraced. They kissed, tentatively at first, and then with warmth. His tongue darted against her teeth and she stiffened.
“I’m sorry,” he said and pulled back. Damn, had he gone too far too fast? He had been just about to touch her breast. He and Amy had always embraced like that. It just seemed so natural to do it with Rebecca. Damn.