Stars & Stripes Forever (11 page)

The old man's eyes closed and his breath was a soft sighing. Palmerston finished the last of the port, sighed as well himself at pleasures spent. Then rose, quietly as he could, and saw himself out.

VICTORIOUS IN BATTLE

General William Tecumseh Sherman had woken at dawn, as he did most days, and watched the sky brighten outside the hotel window. Ellen was sleeping soundly, her even breathing almost a slight snore. He rose quietly, dressed and let himself out. The hotel lobby was empty except for the night porter who was dozing in a chair. He jumped to his feet when he heard Sherman's boots on the marble floor.

"Mornin' General. Looks to be a nice day." He unlocked the front door and raised his hand in a most unmilitary salute. Sherman was barely aware of his presence. William's Hotel was just across from the Presidential Mansion and he walked that way. The blue-clad soldiers at the end of the drive snapped to attention when he passed and he returned the salute. It was going to be a fine day.

The weather, that is. How fine it would be for him depended upon the man in the White House. He walked faster, as though to get away from his thoughts. Stopped for a moment to watch a flock of crows swirling about the stub of the unfinished WashingtonMonument, tried to think about anything except his approaching meeting with the President. He knew himself, knew how easy it would be to fall into the black humor that dogged his existence. Not now. Not today. He turned abruptly and retraced his path. Walking at a brisk military pace, staring straight ahead, fighting to keep his thoughts under tight control.

He smelled fresh coffee as he approached the hotel, went through to the bar, talked to the waiter there. The moment of blackness had passed; the coffee was very good and he had a second cup.

Ellen was seated before the vanity when he came back to their room, brushing her long black hair.

"You are up and about early, Cump," she said.

"Once I woke up and started thinking..."

"Then you started to fuss yourself and worry, that's what you did. But not today."

"But today is so important..."

"Every day is important now. You must forget what happened in Kentucky. Since then you have done work that General Halleck is proud of. He is your supporter, as is your friend Grant."

"I let them down once, I can't forget that."

She turned and took his hands, pressed them firmly between hers as if to add physical support as well. He tried to smile but could not. She stood and clasped his thin body to her.

"Who knows you better than I? We have known each other since I was ten years old. Since we have been married, so many years now, you have never failed me or the children."

"I failed in the bank in California—and in the army in Kentucky."

"Halleck does not think so—or he would not have reinstated you in command. And you have paid all your debts in San Francisco—none of which you had to."

"But I did. The bank failure was not caused by me. But I did encourage fellow officers to invest in the bank. That was my doing. When they lost their money—why I had a debt of honor to repay them. Every cent."

"Yes, you have done that, and I am proud of you. But there was a cost. Living so far apart for so long. Life has not been easy, I am the first to admit that, and we have been separated too much. And it has been lonely."

"For me as well," he said, pulling away and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I have kept it to myself but, more than once—I have felt so—suicidal. But for you and the children... Only seeing Minnie and Lizzie and Willy, thinking of them... without that I could have cast myself into the Mississippi."

Ellen knew that when he was in this black mood there was no reasoning with him. She glanced down at the watch pinned to her dress.

"Today is too important for you to get yourself all worked up. What time is John meeting you?"

"Nine o'clock, he said, in the lobby downstairs."

"More than time enough to change your shirt then. And while you are doing that I'll give that coat a good brushing."

Sherman sighed deeply and climbed to his feet, straightened his back. "You are right, of course. A war is being fought and I am a soldier and I do not fear battle. In fact I welcome it. And the first battle is to put these dark thoughts behind me now and think only of this meeting. My future depends upon its success."

Senator John Sherman was smoking his first cigar of the day when he saw the couple come down the stairs. He stubbed it out and crossed the lobby to give his sister-in-law a fraternal kiss on the cheek. Turned, smiling with pleasure, to greet his brother.

"You're looking fit as a fiddle, Cump. Ready to meet with the railsplitter?"

Sherman smiled, but his eyes remained icy cold. Today's meeting was too important to make jokes about.

"Can't these job seekers wait? Must everyone who wants a government appointment come to see me personally?" the President asked, lifting the thick sheaf of papers unread, letters unsigned, urgent matters unresolved.

"I've kept the ones that are not urgent waiting, for weeks some of them, and have dissuaded or canceled the very worst of them," Nicolay said. "But you made this appointment yourself, with Senator John Sherman. And he wants you to meet his brother, General Sherman."

Lincoln sighed deeply and let the papers drop back onto the desk. "Well—it is politics that keeps this war going, so politics it will be. See them in."

They were not a very prepossessing pair. The Senator was young and already balding. General Sherman had a wiry red beard and a short but tough body, although he did have the erect and military bearing of a West Point graduate. His eyes were as cold and empty as those of a bird of prey. Unless he was addressed directly he did not speak. Instead he sat quietly, looking out the window at the Potomac River and past that to the plowed fields of Virginia on the far side. Apparently having no interest at all in the political conversation. Lincoln watched him out of the corners of his eyes, struggling with a memory that was just below the surface. Of course!

"Well Senator," the President cut in, interrupting what was turning into an all too familiar abolitionist speech, "what you say has a lot of good reason to it. All I have to say is what the girl said when she put her foot into the stocking, 'It strikes me that there is something in it'. I shall keep your thoughts in mind. But now I would also like to have a word or two with your brother." He turned in his chair to face Sherman. "General, stop me if I am wrong, but didn't we meet at least once before?"

Sherman nodded. "We have, Mr. Lincoln. It was soon after the Battle of Bull Run."

"That's it, of course, a little matter of discipline with one of your Irish regiments as I recall."

"You might say that. As I remember it happened soon before you arrived. A captain, a lawyer if you will excuse my saying so, came up to me and spoke while a number of his soldiers were within earshot. In no uncertain terms he told me that his three-month term was up and he was going home. I was not going to abide by this, not in front of the men."

Sherman's face was rigid with anger as he relived the moment. "This kind of thing has to be stopped the instant it starts. Particularly in front of men who have already fled once from battle. So I reached inside my overcoat and said, 'If you attempt to leave without orders, it will be mutiny, and I will shoot you like a dog'. The matter ended there."

"Not quite," Lincoln said, smiling at the memory. "It must have been later that same day when I was riding through the encampment with Secretary of State Seward when this same captain comes up and points at you and says, 'Mr. President, I have a cause of grievance. This morning I went to speak to Colonel Sherman, and he threatened to shoot me'."

Always savoring a good story, Lincoln leaned back while he hesitated a dramatic moment before going on.

"I waited a bit, then leaned down and whispered to him in what I believe they call a stage whisper. I said, 'Well, if I were you, and he threatened to shoot, I would not trust him for I believe he would do it!' "

They laughed together because it was a good story well told.

"Of course," Lincoln added, "I only discovered what it was all about after Colonel Sherman, as he was at that time, explained. My feeling was that since I did not know anything about it, I did still feel that you knew your own business best."

"Morale was not good after our defeat at Bull Run so any talk like that had to be stopped at once."

"In the West Point manner."

"That is correct."

"After leaving West Point were you not also at one time superintendent of the LouisianaStateMilitaryAcademy? Is that true?"

"I had that honor."

"Cump is too reluctant by far," John said. "He founded that academy, practically built it by himself. Started with an empty field, designed the buildings and had the school up and running within two months."

The President nodded. "With a responsible post like that you must have had many friends in the South?"

"I had—and perhaps still have some of them. During my service I grew to know the men of the South. I had personal friends there whom I admired as men. But for their attitude toward the Negroes they enslave I have no respect at all. If a man goes forth and no matter how well dressed and well spoken he is, he is a man like any other. However if a man goes forth and is followed by a slave who attends him, why in the South he is looked upon as something else again. A man who enslaves other men—and is proud of it to boot. In many other ways they can be fine and honorable people. If trained, they make good soldiers. They are a military people with a strong military tradition."

Lincoln nodded. "Unhappily that is so. Far too many of your West Point comrades are fighting on the other side."

"The Southerners make good fighting men. But at times they are immune to simple logic. I know, for I have attempted to make them see reason. At one time I even attempted to warn them, the officers teaching in the academy, of their certain fate, of what the future positively held in store for them. I am afraid they did not listen for they are a most firm-minded lot."

The President was puzzled. "You have me there, General. What was it you wanted to warn them about?"

"This was after the Southern states began to secede. It was a time of great concern. All of the instructors in the academy were serving officers in the United States Army. They were torn by loyalty to the government and loyalty to their states. I tried to reason with them. To tell them about the disastrous war that was certainly coming, Mr. President. I tried to tell them of their folly for I could see that our country would be drenched in blood if they persevered along this road to civil war. Drenched in their own blood. I could not convince them that the peaceful people of the North would fight if they had to. They would fight and they would win."

"You speak with great conviction. You felt the fighting spirit of the North would eventually prevail against that of the South?"

"Not at all. The Southerner has always been military-minded, that is why so many of them have gone to West Point. Because of that they think themselves superior in many ways. But we are all Americans, North and South, and react to conflict in an identical manner. But it is not the fighting spirit that will win this war. In the end it is the machinery of warfare that will prevail. The South cannot build a locomotive or a railway car. Or anything else needed to fight a war and pursue it to final victory. They will win battles—they are very brave people—but they do not have the resources to win a war. When I told them this they smiled at me as though I were soft."

Sherman paused for a moment looking out of the window with his cold, empty eyes. Looking across the dividing Potomac at the enemy land. Seeing events past—perhaps seeing events to come.

"After that I had no choice. The only course open to me was to leave the South and join the Union cause. Of course my words were rejected and quickly forgotten—and we were swept into this war. But I knew them as kind good friends. To this day I cannot think of them as rebels or traitors. They are fighting in defense of their country, their houses and families, against what they see as invaders."

Lincoln was impressed; a fighting man who was a serious thinker as well. Too many of his generals were full of fight and very little else. And some of them didn't even have that fighting spirit. General McClellan had spent five months doing absolutely nothing. Now he was in hospital with fever and the President had taken over his command. In the west Halleck appeared to be stalemated. Soldiers were dying but nothing seemed to be happening despite this. Only at sea was the blockade succeeding. Blockade runners were seized almost every day, supplies in the South running out. But this was a stalemate. The war could not be won by simply standing back and hoping the Rebels would starve themselves to death. If this General Sherman had a higher command he might be able to do something about that. Not right now, but he would keep him in mind.

"You will go far, General. Indeed I wish I had a dozen like you. If I did this war would be over by next spring. It is my understanding that it is your wish to take up a command under General Halleck?"

"It is. If the Commander-in-Chief is in agreement he wishes me to have a division under General Grant."

"Then it is done! The order will be issued and I wish you every success."

Nicolay, with true secretarial precision appeared at that moment, opened the door and ushered them out. Only when the door was closed did he speak.

"Mrs. Lincoln has asked that you see her in Willie's room."

Lincoln's face was gray under his dark skin. "Any change?"

"I don't know. That was all she said."

Lincoln hurried out. Mary was standing by the door looking at the bed. She turned when he touched her arm.

"He is so cold," she said.

One of Willie's playmates was sitting by the great bed, solemnly upright. Willie's eyes were shut.

"Has he spoken?" Lincoln asked the boy.

"No, sir, not today. But I am sure he knows that I am here, for he squeezes my hand."