Grant picked up the first telegram he had read and reviewed it one more time.
So Lee had tried. Well, he had to. Even on the slimmest of bets, the chance to take Washington by a bold assault could not be ignored.
He might try again a few days hence, to probe around the fortifications and look for a blunder by Heintzelman. All Heintzelman had to do in response was to keep the exterior forts reasonably garrisoned and shift reserves along his own interior lines to wherever the threat might develop. A child should be able to do that, but then again, more than one general in this army had sunk below that level during the last two years.
'Sir?'
He looked up. The captain of the guard detail stood in the doorway, holding another telegram.
'This came in for you. It was dated nearly six hours ago but was in code. Sorry, but it took a while to find the translator book.'
Grant took the telegram and opened it. A message out of Greensburg, Pennsylvania, a hundred miles to the southwest along the Pennsylvania Railroad. The message was from a Pinkerton agent claiming to have come in from behind Confederate linesJefferson Davis was reported as being
seen two days ago at Greencastle, a small town in the Cumberland Valley, just inside the Pennsylvania state line, riding to meet Lee.
Now, if true, that was news, revealing much of what was to come. In fact, it was damn good news. Haupt was back.
'I've ordered the line cleared. We can leave as soon as our engine is watered, oiled, and fueled.'
Grant stepped out of the office, lit a cigar, and looked heavenward. It was a clear night, the stars were out, shining through the faint overcast of fog drifting up from the river.
'How's the headache?' Elihu asked.
'It's gone.'
General Lee, President Davis is on the road just north of here, he'll be arriving in a few minutes.' Startled, Lee looked up from the map spread out on the table. Having moved his headquarters out of artillery range, he had just settled in under an awning spread on the front lawn of a modest, two-story home facing the Seventh Street road. Under the shade of the awning he had been contemplating a nap after the sleepless night that had bedeviled and exhausted him.
'Are you sure it's the president?' he asked.
Taylor nodded excitedly.
'One of Stuart's boys saw him and galloped back here with the word.'
Lee came to his feet looking down at his uniform. His jacket was off, vest open, pants stained with mud. He felt clammy, sweat-soaked, realizing it had been a week or more since he had been out of these clothes. It was scorching hot out, and he dreaded having to get back into formal attire, but there was nothing else he could do. Taylor had already picked up his jacket and helped him get into it. Next came the boots, replacing the comfortable slippers. A black servant with the staff knelt to help him with his boots, then produced a stiff brush and worked on the trousers for a moment before helping him to wrap his sash and then snap on his belt.
He already felt confined, sweat breaking out There was a flurry of activity up the road; on the low ridge a half mile to the north men were on their feet a distant cheer echoing. It had to be Davis, nothing else could stir the men on this day of rest of disappointment, and heat.
There was a momentary flash of frustration, even anger. There had been no notification that the president was so close, just a vague message after Union Mills that he would come north at his earliest convenience to inspect the troops and discuss future plans. It was obvious now that this visit by Davis was in anticipation of the news that Washington had already been seized, or was about to fall. Still, there should have been more formal notification so that he and his men could prepare.
'Taylor, get some sort of formal guard out there. Also, send messages to Generals Longstreet, Hood, and Stuart that the president is here and I expect them to report in as soon as possible.'
Taylor, obviously a bit flustered for once, saluted and ran off, shouting orders. The headquarters company, Virginian cavalrymen, were already forming up, the rumor of the president's arrival having swept the camp. There wasn't time to saddle and mount, so the men simply formed up by the road, brushing off each other's uniforms as they waited.
A troop of cavalry were coming down the
A second troop came in, and in their midst was Jefferson Davis, riding a black gelding, trailed by civilian staff. To Lee's surprise, Judah Benjamin was with them, the secretary of state for the Confederacy. He looked haggard, wincing with every jolt as his mare trotted behind the president's horse.
The group reined in. There was a flourish of salutes from the escorts, men racing up to hold the reins as the civilians dismounted.
Lee came forward, stopping a half dozen feet from the president and saluting. He wondered if Davis would feel some offense at the paltry nature of the greeting, no band, no flags displayed other than the headquarters insignia, no brigades of troops lining the road.
Davis stepped away from his mount, moving stiffly, looking around He bowed slightly in acknowledgment of the salute.
'Mr. President, welcome to the Army of Northern Virginia, sir,' Lee said formally. 'An honor, General Lee.'
There was a moment of awkward silence. The other civilians were gathering behind Davis and Benjamin, jockeying for position, a couple of them obviously reporters, notebooks already out.
'My headquarters are rather spartan, sir, I hope you don't find it too uncomfortable'
As he spoke, Lee gestured toward the canopy of tarpaulins spread out on the front lawn of the house. A couple of servants were racing about, dragging more chairs out from the house, another setting out a fresh pot of coffee and tin cups and surprisingly a pitcher of what looked to be iced lemonade.
'Not at all, in fact this reminds me of my own days in the field during the war with Mexico. Lead the way, General,' Davis said.
Lee guided them the few dozen feet to the table. The entire crowd of civilians tried to close in and follow. Davis turned to one of his military escorts and whispered a few words. The escort nodded.
'Gentlemen. The president wishes a few moments alone with General Lee and Secretary Benjamin. I believe General Lee's staff will offer some refreshments in the house.'
'General Lee,' one of the civilians shouted, stepping around the escort. 'I'm with the
Lee looked at the man out of the comer of his eye. Several others were crowding around behind the reporter, notebooks out.as well.
'I first wish to make my report to the president, gentlemen,' he said, forcing himself to remain polite. 'I will be more than happy to talk with you later.'
'Sir, just five minutes please. Will you renew the assault?'
He turned away, ignoring the man, who smelled of whiskey and bad cologne. Several guards from his own staff stepped between Lee and the reporter, there were whispered comments, and Lee inwardly smiled.
There were several muffled protests, but the reporters, staff, and hangers-on were led away.^
Davis was already sitting in the chair Lee had occupied only minutes before. Benjamin was standing, looking down at the map.
Lee approached, glad to be under the awning, at least out of the direct sunlight, though the heat was stifling.
'Gentlemen, something cool to drink? Perhaps you'd care to rest a bit before we start?' Lee offered, even as he poured a cup of lemonade and offered it to Davis.
'I'd like to hear what happened first,' Davis replied, looking up at him.
