“The name’s Warner, gentlemen, Sheriff Warner and this here is my badge.”
The general looked at it and nodded. “Lived here long, Sheriff Warner?” the general asked.
“Born here, traveled a bit, served in the cavalry during the Indian wars, General. Had enough of the army by that time and I come back here. Nothing much here but farming and I didn’t take to that. Sheriff died of the pox and I got his job. If there is anything I can do to lend a hand — why I am your man.”
“You know the local roads?”
“Know them better than I know the back of my hand. I could find my way around anywhere here in the dark with my eyes closed.”
“Well we prefer that you to do that with your eyes open. You can go with these men here.” General Johnston pulled the lieutenant aside as he started to follow his men. “Keep an eye on him and the roads you take. You can never be too careful.”
But the sheriff proved to be a man of his word. They bypassed the sleeping Plattsburgh and the British units stationed there without being seen.
With Sheriff Warner showing the scouts the way, they had crossed unseen south of this city during the night, and by morning were moving steadily along the shore of Lake Champlain to ambush the boats.
And it worked exactly to plan. The dawn attack with the cannon, the destruction of some of the craft, the flight north of the rest. Then his command had turned in their tracks and followed the boats north. But there was a fair wind from the west and the boats were soon hull down and out of sight. Which was fine, very fine indeed. The trains were waiting for them when they got back to Woods Mills and the tired men and horses were happy enough to board them once again. The civilian wagons that had been left behind were still aboard the train, the mule skinners as surly and silent as ever.
In his headquarters car General Johnston met with his officers.
“A job well done, gentlemen,” Johnston said. “Night-time movements with a mixed force is always difficult. I must commend you how it all worked out.”
“Come a danged long way, General, if you don’t mind my speaking out plain,” Colonel Yancey said, pouring himself a large glass of corn whiskey. “Just to blow up a few bitty boats, then turn around and march away.”
“I do agree with you, Colonel — if that was the only goal of this operation,” Johnston said, holding up a sheaf of telegrams.
“These were waiting for me at Woods Mills. Our troops have broken the enemy all along the Hudson front. The British are on the run. And any of them that manage to reach the landings at the lake will find their transport gone. Soon they’ll all be in the bag. We did exactly what we set out to do to cut off their retreat. But, I can tell you now, the boats were the smallest part of this action. Although what we did was most consequential, it was really part of a bigger plan that will be set into action very soon. The most important events are coming up now.”
The general smiled as sudden silence filled the car. He took his time pouring whiskey into his own glass and sipping a bit of it. He had a most attentive audience.
“I refrained from telling you about this any earlier because our true purpose could not even be hinted at. General Lee swore me to silence — and I now ask the same of you.”
“Permission to interrupt, sir,” Captain DuBose said, then continued when the general nodded his head. “Was there any other news in the telegrams? Have you heard any more about the state of Jeff Davis?”
“Indeed there was information in this last batch. Alive and recovering — but very weak. Good news indeed. Now — back to the war. This was a fine operation, gentlemen, I congratulate you. Yancey was absolutely right. We did come a long way to blow up a few bitty boats. That is done. It was the perfect cover for the action that we will be taking now. We are now on this train which is definitely not going back to Pennsylvania.” The cars rattled and swayed through a set of switches, driving home his point. “We are on a different track and heading for our final destination, the city of Ogdensburg. If any of you are not clear about Yankee geography I can tell you that Ogdensburg is on the shore of that mighty river, the St. Lawrence. And of course you know what is on the other side of this river…”
“Canada!” Captain DuBose shouted, jumping to his feet. “Canada with the salaud English clumped up there thick as fleas on an old dog. We cannot be here by chance. Is that it, General? We are here to make things very bad for the English?”
“Yes, gentlemen, that is it.”
TAKING THE WAR TO THE ENEMY
Lincoln looked around at the members of his Cabinet, and shook his head in disbelief. He pulled hi
s bony legs up before him, resting his heels on the edge of his chair, and wrapped his arms around them. “Why I have not seen as many long faces since my last visit to a livery stable. We should be celebrating victory gentlemen, not looking as though we have suffered dismal defeat.”
“The war is at a stalemate,” Secretary of War Stanton said. “Sherman has stopped at the Canadian border. The British sink our merchant ships at sea, then land and pillage our shores at will. They justify these actions by saying that a state of war still exists between their country and ours. This is nonsense. They invaded us. Congress declared that a state of war did exist only after their invasions. Now that they have been hurled back from our land, have been defeated at sea — what cause do they have for these continued murderous attacks on our citizenry?”
“None whatsoever, seeing that they have agreed to discuss peace,” Seward said, with equal gloom. “But despite this agreement the Prussian talks progress not at all. Adams has presented our terms, which are reasonable indeed, but nothing pleases Palmerston or his lackeys. The British representatives in Berlin still make impossible demands for reparations, apologies, everything they can think of — other than seriously discussing peace. I feel that the Tory government is determined to press on with this war and only agreed to the talks to quiet the opposition parties in Parliament.”
“Let us then talk of the good news,” the President said. “The Reconstruction Bill has passed the lower house and will surely be approved by the Senate. When I sign it into law we will see the beginning of the end, hopefully, of our internal war. As regards the broader conflict I assure you that our generals are not standing still. If the British do not want peace then they shall see enough war to give them their fill. I have the distinct feeling that they will be far more surprised than we will be at the developments in the near future.”
“What do you mean?” Seward asked. “As Secretary of State I should be privy to all war plans.”
“You should be — and so should I,” the President said. “But there are also times when you should play poker with your cards close to your chest. The city of Washington is populated by foreign agents, eager to seek out any tiny nugget of information and sell it on. But you should at least know that certain operations are in progress. Orders have gone out, carried by hand since we found numberless taps, people listening in, on our telegraph wires. I, personally, do not know the details of these endeavors, so no one in this Cabinet should feel put out. What I can tell you is that the British in Canada are due for some interesting experiences in the very near future.”
There was a secretive smile on his face when he left the Cabinet Room, almost mischievous. It might be safe to tell them what was in the wind, but Chase was a great gossip. Seward would undoubtedly tell his daughter; word might leak out. Better to just not talk about it no matter how put out the Cabinet might feel.
Hay met the President in the hall as he left the Cabinet Room.