The Texans had shot them to rags as the deserters’ regiment watched with wide eyes.
Is this what war has become?
“Well, lookee there!” Hindman cried, breaking Butler’s introspection.
Butler raised his gaze to the brick warehouse they were passing. In white paint had been scrawled the words HINDMAN! HAIL SEESUR! and THREE HEADED DEMON! The latter referred to Hindman as judge, jury, and executioner. Or, as the more politically savvy tended to think: executive, legislative, and judicial all rolled into one.
“Do you think he means ‘Hail Caesar?’” Hindman wondered.
“He does,” Butler said wearily. “It’s being whispered about. The affluent and educated are divided. Most understand that it has taken harsh measures to accomplish what you have. A couple of months ago, the city was in a panic and General Curtis was two days’ march away. Now, because of what our spies have planted and the artful use of misdirection, Curtis thinks we’ve got thirty thousand men waiting for him in Pulaski County.”
“We’ve got about fifteen thousand untrained, unequipped, barely fed conscripts,” Hindman countered sourly.
“That’s ten times what we had when we started.” Butler waved his hand around. “You’ve saved Arkansas. With General Orders Number Seventeen you created the Independent Companies of Rangers to harass the Federal rear. You’ve opened the mines, started factories, and terrified poor Governor Rector into handing the State Guard over to your command. When you issued General Orders Number Eighteen at the end of June, you placed the entire state under martial law. Your martial law. Maybe the comparisons to Julius Caesar aren’t that much out of line.”
“What do you think, Butler? Since Shiloh, you haven’t been yourself.” Hindman walked his horse closer as they passed the first of Little Rock’s famed gas streetlights atop its pole. They didn’t work, of course, due to the lack of fuel.
Butler felt as burned out and dark inside as the light. “I don’t know, Tom. I feel adrift, as if my mind is at sea. After Shiloh I know what’s at stake. We need a Caesar … and Jefferson Davis is not that man.”
Hindman glanced absently at the people they passed on the sidewalks, many pausing to watch the small cavalcade, some nodding, others bending heads close to whisper to their companions. None—Butler couldn’t help but note—smiled, and many didn’t offer so much as a curt nod of the head.
“That’s the dilemma, isn’t it?” Hindman admitted, his blue eyes hardening. “It takes tyranny to preserve freedom.”
“What about when it’s over? Assume we win this thing. Tomorrow, Lincoln and Davis declare peace and a cease to all hostilities. Do you just let loose of the reins?” He gestured around at the city. “Little Rock … Hell, all of Arkansas is a mess. If you just hold on to power, use the troops, you can order people back to work. Order prison details to rebuild the destroyed bridges and railroads. Supervise investment in new steamboats and rail lines.”
Hindman’s expression was lined in thought as they pulled up before the Anthony House. “It will all be different. New.”
“And Tom, it’s going to take an iron hand to deal with slavery. The Negroes are going to know how close they came to freedom. That’s going to fester. Like it or not, if we win, you’re going to have to put them on a path to freedom. That may well be the ultimate price of secession. You willing to pay it?”
Hindman’s expression soured. “I don’t know.”
The doorman emerged, arms behind him as he awaited instructions.
“That’s the perpetual trap, isn’t it?” Hindman almost mumbled, still seeing things in his head.
“Call it the irony of revolution. Your policies have split the state. Even alienated some of your generals. Palmer predicted it correctly when he said a lot of folks would slip away into the swamps and forest to avoid conscription. Pro-Union sentiment has never been higher.”
“At its roots, Butler, Arkansas is a Southern state. It wouldn’t be happy in the Union. You know that.”
“Tom, my guess is that maybe one in ten people here have any idea of how much sacrifice, blood, and treasure it will take to win independence. I fear the explosion when they finally find out.”
“I will pay any price. Even if I have to drag the people by their ears to get them into the fight. I know that many of the prominent ones have been complaining to Beauregard. Some have even traveled to Richmond to air their grievances to Jefferson Davis in person.” He shrugged, looked back at the Texans sitting on their horses like centaurs. “Whatever it takes. I’ve crossed the Rubicon.”
Butler lowered his voice to a whisper. “Negro regiments?”
“As an absolute, last means to stave off defeat, yes.”
Butler swung down from his horse, handing the reins to the doorman. “I’m with you. But Tom, remember something else. The reason we had a republic in the first place was because George Washington didn’t declare himself a king. And yes, Caesar was able to seize the reins of power in Rome … but it didn’t work out well for him in the end.”
Hindman chuckled softly. “Something I’ll keep in mind, Butler. Now, may I wish you a pleasant—”
“General!” Robert Newton called as he burst from the door, a piece of paper in hand. “Good to see you back, sir. This came by courier today.”
Newton handed the missive up. Hindman broke the seal and squinted in the dying summer light. His face had the look of stone when he lowered the paper. Stared up at the evening sky where a couple of bats fluttered against the purpling heavens. Then he met Newton’s curious gaze before raising an eyebrow.
“Perhaps, Butler, you’re not the only one worried about
