Love and War

The figures of Maguire and Dorking receded. Cooper relaxed at the rail, surprised at the quickness of his reactions. He was pleased with himself.

The river shone like gold; the air was salty and not too hot; a perfect afternoon. Bulloch promised to answer all questions shortly but first urged the guests to help themselves to French champagne and the delicacies he had ordered to support the illusion of an innocent outing. When a measure of calm returned, he politely asked for attention and stepped into the sunshine just beyond the awning shadow. From there he addressed the passengers.

'We trust you will all enjoy your cruise on the vessel variously known in Liverpool and Birkenhead as Enrica or Laird's 209. She will have her real name soon. We want you to be perfectly comfortable this afternoon. Eat and drink as much as you like and try not to let that unpleasantness on the pier bother you. I must be honest and confess that your return journey will be aboard a tug awaiting us down the coast at Anglesey.'

'What's that?'

'Dammit, Bulloch, what subterfuge are you —?'

'Bloody trick, that's what it —'

'A regrettable necessity, gentlemen,' Bulloch said, his deep Georgian voice overriding the protests. 'On Sunday we were warned that if this ship remained in the Mersey another forty-eight hours, she'd be impounded. Lost to our cause. You'll have no trouble with the authorities if you simply tell the truth. You were invited on a cruise, which you are now taking. The only difference is, your cruise ship won't be the vessel taking you back to Liverpool. For that, I accept all blame.'

'Are the rumors true, then? Was this vessel built illegally?'

'She was built in scrupulous conformity with British law, sir.'

'That's no answer,' someone else said. 'Where's she bound?'

'Up the Irish Channel and then to a port I am not at liberty to name. Ultimately, she will sail in American waters with a different crew.'

Cooper felt a strange thrill up his spine — unexpected as his own clumsy bravery at dockside. What a remarkable change had come over him, scarcely noticed, since those days when he had debated the folly of secession and war with anyone who would listen. He was proud of this ship and proud of his part in getting her to sea. He was proud of her name, which Bulloch had confided to him; it was to be Alabama. He was proud to stand on her spanking new deck as she headed down the glittering Mersey to the destination Bulloch quietly announced to the stunned guests.

'She is going to war.'

While the Confederate ship escaped to the Isle of Anglesey, George was en route to Massachusetts, having first stopped at Lehigh Station for a day and a half. He had conferred with Jupe Smith, who informed him that the legislature now looked on the bank charter application with great favor — 'What a surprise,' George muttered — and spent seven hours with Wotherspoon inspecting the books, the manufacturing areas, and samples of Hazard's current output. Before he left, he saw the Hungarian couple and their black charges — fifteen of them now. To relieve her loneliness, Brett said, she sometimes helped Mr. and Mrs. Czorna care for the children. It was the only time during the visit that George saw a sign of animation in his sister-in-law.

After unsuccessfully trying to doze while sitting upright on the train all night, George was exhausted when he reached Braintree. Old Sylvanus Thayer allowed him three hours in a comfortable bed, then woke him and served a breakfast more like a banquet. Usually a Spartan eater, George put away six fried eggs, four slices of ham, and six biscuits at five o'clock of a hot summer afternoon. While he ate, Thayer talked.

'Scapegoats, George. Men need them most — they are driven to find them — when matters are out of control and somehow cannot be set right. The human animal is willful and frequently stupid. Blame is often placed where it doesn't belong simply because any explanation of chaos, however ludicrous, is better than none, and people would go mad without one. I do not claim that is always the case. In the war, the army was the focus of blame, and rightly so.' For Thayer, there was always and only one war: the last fought against Britain. 'Now, however, I believe the tide's flowing the other way. I take your brother's warning seriously.'

He tapped a copy of Harper's pulled from under recent issues of the New York Tribune. 'This noxious rag — and Greeley's paper — are both demanding the Academy close forever. Great men have come from our school, but that's of no consequence. The army is failing again, and someone or something must be put up on the cross.'

George finished his coffee and lit a cigar. 'I get so damn sick of them saying we trained the enemy.'

'I know, I know.' Thayer's hands, white as the fine linen cloth covering the table, clenched. Dark blue veins rose up on the backs of them. 'We have also trained many accomplished officers who have remained loyal. Alas, for all his effort and sincerity, the President can't seem to utilize them properly. Perhaps he interferes too much, as they say Davis does. That is an observation, not an excuse for inaction. We cannot avoid the inescapable, George. West Point is at war.'

He plucked the cigar from his mouth. 'What's that, sir?'

'At war. Those of us who love the place must campaign as if the enemy has formidable leadership — which it does —' He whacked Greeley's newspaper. 'We must fight with intelligence, zeal, our whole soul — and never admit to even the remotest possibility of defeat. We shall not cower. We shall not wait passively to have our position overwhelmed. We shall mount an offensive.'

'I'd agree with that strategy, Colonel. But what are the tactics?'

The old man's eyes sparkled. 'We do not hide our light under a bushel. We promote our past — our performance on behalf of the republic in Mexico and on the frontier. We trumpet our case and our cause. We whisper into influential ears. We twist reluctant arms. We knock resistant heads. We attack, George —'

Thump went the fist on the table.

'Attack. Attack. Attack!'

They talked on into the night. Graduates and friends of West Point had to be recruited to speak or write in defense of it. George would send letters to six members of the Board of Visitors, and Thayer would do the same with the other ten. On the spot, George decided to visit the Academy on his way home. He didn't put his head down till half-past three, but Thayer was up an hour ahead of him, at six-thirty, and saw him to the station. Even on the noisy platform, Thayer's mind kept working.

'What influential allies have we in the Congress. Any at all?'

'The chief one I can think of is Wade's fellow senator from Ohio — Cump Sherman's brother, John. He and Wade don't particularly like each other.'

'Cultivate Senator Sherman,' Thayer urged as he pumped George's hand. George felt as though he had received marching orders. Thayer was still bobbing along beside the car calling suggestions as the train pulled out.

After a brief stop at Cold Spring and some mutual complaining with Benét, George crossed the Hudson to the Plain and began campaigning there. Professor Mahan promised to step up his writing about the institution. Captain Edward Boynton, a classmate of George's and Orry's who had returned as adjutant, said he would rush completion of the manuscript of his history of West Point, incorporating rebuttals of its critics into the final text. Washington-bound again on a crowded, sooty train, George felt a little better; the offensive was under way.

He hoped it hadn't been launched too late. The appropriation would come up in Congress early next year. They had less than six months to conduct and win their small war while the larger one rumbled along a murky road whose end no one could see.

Returning to duty, George found criticism of the army more ferocious than ever. Old Brains Halleck had been summoned from the West to be supreme commander. McClellan still had the Army of the Potomac, largely a Washington defense force now, and John Pope had been given the Army of Northern Virginia as a consequence of his success at Island No. 10. Pope quickly alienated most of his men by observing that soldiers in the western theater were tougher and fought harder. He then remarked that he was a commander who could be counted on to take the field; he would keep his headquarters in the saddle. Wags turned headquarters into hindquarters.

Lincoln's Negro policies were causing fights in saloons and army camps. The only part of the Confiscation Act