“But it isn’t,” General Bragg said. “I can understand that. A man spends his life looking at the colored as a piece of property, why he’s not going to change his thinking just because he got paid some money. You can’t change the way things work overnight, that’s for certain.”
“There is much truth in what you say. But the law is still the law and it must be obeyed. In any case, there have been some threats of violence, while some of the Freedmen’s Bureaus have been burned. We don’t want the situation to get any worse. So we want to assign soldiers to the Freedmen’s Bureau to make sure that the peace in the South is kept. Which is why I am here to talk to you, to ask you to aid me in keeping the peace.”
“Isn’t that the work of the local lawmen?”
“It should be — but many times they don’t want to cooperate.”
“Don’t blame them.”
“Yes, neither do I, but it is still the law. Now you know, and I know, that the one thing we cannot do is to have any soldiers from the North come down here to do this kind of work. Keeping the peace.”
The general snorted loudly and called for more coffee, cocked his head and looked at Benjamin. “That sure would start the war all over again, I reckon. Start it even faster if you used black Yankee troops.”
“But we could use Southern soldiers. Texas soldiers by choice. The men of your brigade fought hard and well for the South and no man will doubt your loyalty. But there are few slaves in your state, even fewer cotton plantations. My hope is that Texicans would be more, say, even-handed in the application of the law. And certainly none in the South would fault their presence.”
“Yes, it’s a thought. But I can envisage a lot of problems coming up, a passel of problems. I think that I’ll have to talk to my officers about this first before I make any decisions. Maybe even speak to the men.”
“Of course. The men cannot be assigned against their will. And when you talk to them, please tell them that, in addition to their army pay, there will be separate payments from the Bureau. These men will be going home soon and I know they will surely like to take back as many silver dollars as they can.”
“Now that is an argument that makes powerful sense.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, General. Will it be all right if I send you a telegram tomorrow to find out about your decision?”
“You do that. Should know something by then.”
Judah Benjamin was buoyed by hope as he rode back to the capital. The road to peace and Negro freedom was proving not to be a very smooth one.
Jefferson Davis was very much of the same mind. The end of the War Between the States, the end to all the killing, had been a noble effort that had come through in the end. The killing had been stopped, that at least had been done, but it had been replaced by what was, in the least, becoming an uneasy peace. He must do something about it.
His wound had healed well, though he had little strength in his left arm; the surgeon had cut away muscle and tissue to get the pistol ball, and cloth, out of his wound. But the fever was a thing of the past now and his strength grew daily. Nevertheless the train trip to Arlington had been tiring. But Robert E. Lee had met him at the station himself, driving the buggy. The United States Government, which had seized Lee’s home because of unpaid taxes, had returned it to its rightful owner, slightly the worse for wear, at the war’s end. It had now been restored to its original condition.
Jefferson Davis had passed a restful three days before he felt up to riding again. Always a keen equestrian, the thing that he had missed most was his daily ride. Now that he could sit a horse again he felt stronger with every passing day. His hosts seemed pleased to see his health improving daily and he was aware of this fact. But he also did not want to wear out his welcome. Finally he was strong enough, he was sure, to ride from Arlington to the White House. He looked up from his breakfast as Lee came in.
“I had the gray mare saddled up,” Lee said. “She’s calm and sensible and a bit like riding in a rocking chair.”
“I thank you kindly. I’m still not fit enough to ride a sprightly mount like your Traveller. I think that I’ll be on my way now before the day heats up.”
The weather was fine, the sun warm — and despite the twinges of pain he still felt from his wound — he had the strength of a man on a mission. And the mare was slow and as steady as promised. He crossed the Potomac and turned down Pennsylvania Avenue. Apparently he must have been seen as he came up the drive, because as he approached the Executive Mansion, Lincoln himself came out on the steps to greet him.
“You are looking spry and fit, Jefferson. Seeing you here like this is the best news I could have ever received.”
“Better every day, Abraham, always better.”
Lincoln beckoned and one of the guards hurried forward to help Davis to dismount from his horse.
“Come into the green room and avoid the stairs,” Lincoln said. “Can I offer you some refreshment?”
“At this time of day I think a cup of tea would be most satisfactory.”
“Do you hear that, Nicolay?” Lincoln called to his secretary who was waiting in the hall. “And see that no one disturbs us after that.”
Jefferson Davis drank his tea — then spoke. “How goes this British intrusion into Mexico? I read the reports in the papers, but they are all wind and no meat. The newspaper writers wrap themselves in the flag and go on about the Monroe Doctrine and manifest destiny. But they seem to be a little light on facts.”
“That’s only because they have none. The surrounding jungle keeps news out and the enemy safe within. But all in all I would say that things are going as well as can be expected at this stage. It is not public knowledge yet, but guns and ammunition are reaching the Mexican army and their irregulars. On the diplomatic front things go much more slowly. Emperor Napoleon insists that they are in Mexico at the invitation of the people and makes reference often to the money owed to them. He wants the world to believe that the Emperor Maximilian was asked to rule by the people of Mexico. I doubt if anyone — other than Maximilian himself — believes such tosh.”
“And here at home? How goes the peace?”
He asked the question in a flat voice, but there was a tension behind his words that could not be concealed. Lincoln put his cup down and hesitated before he spoke.