“Of course we will, Mr. Lincoln. Anything else would be a blemish to Southern honor. Good men of the North under General Sherman’s command died in the Battle of Biloxi and we must honor their memories as well. We ask no others to fight our battles — but will happily join our fellow countrymen in this invasion of our common shores.”
Lincoln dropped into his chair, as exhausted as if he had split a cord of wood. “You understand the import of what you have just said?”
“I do.”
“Instead of killing each other, we take common cause to kill those who invade our country.”
“That is my understanding. And since we are now united in a single army we must consider the prisoners of war taken by both sides.”
“Of course! Our first joined order will be to throw open the prison gates so they can return to their homes. This will not only be a practical and humanitarian thing to do. But also symbolic of our changed relationship. As long as we trust each other our plan must succeed.”
Abraham Lincoln ran his long ringers through his desperately tangled hair as though to pummel the thoughts that raced through his brain.
“Jefferson, after what we have said to each other I feel compelled to speak to you of my most innermost thoughts, my most heartfelt hopes. I would have this Union as one again, but will not speak of that now. More important I would seek to finally put an end to this terrible war where brother kills brother. When it began I am sure that neither of us knew what horrors there were to come. Now we have a sudden peace and unity that will prevail whilst we battle a common enemy. An enemy whom we will certainly defeat. And then…?”
Davis’s mouth was a firm hard line. “And then your abolitionists will begin their baying and threatening again. The causes of this war are still there and will not go away. We will lay down our lives — but not our honor. There are people in the North who will not allow that. When our common enemy is defeated they are going to turn on us again. They drove us from the Union once before and I know that they will have no hesitation in doing it a second time.”
“While your plantation owners will promise to lay down their lives, and the lives of many others, for the God-given right to enslave other men.”
“That is true. Our way of life and our Southern cause is the rock upon which we stand.”
“You can still say that after the 22,000 dead at Shiloh? Must brother go on killing brother until our land is soaked in blood?”
Davis took off his tinted spectacles and touched his handkerchief to his damp eyes. “They are not killing each other at this moment,” he said.
“Nor shall they ever begin again. Let us put aside for the moment the things that divide us and dwell instead upon what unites us. We fight together and we must find a way to continue this unity. I for one will do anything to prevent our recent civil war from flaring up again. It shall not be! I have put editors into jail — and some are still there — to silence the voices of those who fought against my policies. I can clap the baying abolitionists into jail just as easily if they threaten our new-found unity. Can you do the same?”
“I have jails as well, Mr. Lincoln, and will fill them as well with those who threaten this same unity. But the question still remains. What about the slaves? I am a slave-owner and, I feel, a good man. A good owner. I take care of them because they are incapable of taking care of themselves.”
Lincoln shook his head slowly. “We must try, at least try. A way has now been found for a temporary cessation of the war between the states. A way must also be found to make that cessation permanent. A road to peace must exist. We must find that road and march down it. We must be firm in our resolve to find that way. Meanwhile we know what we must do, to silence any opposition, silence those who would destroy this new-found unity, then perhaps a way can be found, must be found, to assure that this vengeful war does not start again. But I feel — no — I know that what we have decided here must not be spoken of outside the confines of this room. Our military alliance to repel the invaders, yes, that will be shouted aloud. This will be a noble and patriotic war and none will question that. But about this other matter, which for the moment we should agree to call the search for the future of peace, nothing must be said.”
“On that we are in complete agreement. Common cause will unite us and satisfy those that must do battle. That we are entertaining the possibility of an even more difficult and far-reaching goal must be kept secret lest it be compromised.”
They clasped hands at that and felt the elation of a mutual hope that the possibility existed, just the tiniest possibility now, that sometime in the future, out of the ruins of the old Union, a new Union might yet be formed.
Lincoln went to the fiddled sideboard, where a pitcher of cool water had been placed, and poured two glasses full. He drank deeply from his — then lowered it suddenly.
“I know someone who can help us in this common labor. An Englishman, a natural philosopher by the name of John Stuart Mill. I think that he was sent by a compassionate Providence to aid us in our hour of need. He is a man of great international standing who has written a very learned book on what he calls political economy. A great thinker who may be the very man to guide us on this path to our mutual goal.”
“An English traitor?”
“No, indeed — he is a loyal member of mankind. He speaks for our cause of freedom just as his countryman, Thomas Paine, spoke for our freedom during the Revolution. He is staying with his daughter in Washington. He is of the firm belief that the American system is one that should be admired and duplicated. He began to speak of the recent war and how it could be ended. He is not a charlatan but a gentleman of vi
gor and intelligence. It is my hope that he can aid us.”
“Mine too if what you have said is true.”
“We must take him under advisement at the earliest opportunity…”
There was a light tapping on the door.
“We were to be disturbed only when our generals arrived,” Lincoln said. He emptied his waterglass before going to unlock the door.
“They are here,” Nicolay said.
“We will see them now. And have these portholes opened before we combust.”
The slight form of William Tecumseh Sherman, garbed in a rumpled and battle-soiled blue uniform, was quite a contrast to the elegantly turned out Commander-in-Chief of the Confederate Army. Jefferson Davis jumped to his feet when the two officers had entered the room, then strode quickly to the Union General and seized him by the hand. Davis did not speak but the intensity of his emotions was obvious. Lincoln spoke for both of them.