Antebellum BK 1 (61 page)

“
The people like what I have to say,” he insisted.

“
Yes, I know. And they’ll hear it. But from printing presses, not from your lips where you can get trapped by a pointed question when you’re tired or despondent.”

“
You know me too well,” he said, a bit deflated.

“
I know the mistakes you made that allowed Stephen Douglas to beat you in the senate race. I’d hate to see you make the same mistakes again.”

He watched her face for a moment, then nodded. “No speeches, no debates. But, I insist that neither you nor the party make any contracts that bind me.”

“
Agreed. Except for the platform committee. You’ll have to fight that out on your own.”

“
Very well, but no position on emancipation. That issue’s too delicate to get backed into a corner on this early. You must promise to keep that off the platform.”

She shook her head. “I can’t promise more than to do my best. If it comes to it we’ll keep the language vague. That I can promise.”

“
I saw your nephew last week with Katherine Chase,” Lincoln said, changing the subject abruptly.

“
Where?” Anna asked.

“
At West Point.”

“
Oh.” She smiled in relief. “Yes. He’s an upper classman this year.”

“
They make a handsome couple.”

“
We’ve been struggling to keep them apart until Johnny graduates.”

“
We as in you and Governor Chase?”

“
Yes.” Anna felt the heat rise in her face and cursed under her breath.

“
But you’re not working for him?” Lincoln asked.

“
No, sir, I’m not,” Anna said a little heatedly. “I told you my position. I’ll be working for the Republican candidate for President.”

“
Who do you think will win?” Lincoln asked.

“
I thought I’d made it clear that I expect you to win.”

He nodded. “Yes you did. But I was wondering if you might want to change that after your recent revelation.”

“
My blush may have led you to think that there’s some romantic attachment between Governor Chase and myself,” Anna said evenly. “I can assure you that there’s nothing romantic about it.”

Lincoln spread his big hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean to pry into your private life, Mrs. Lagrange.”

“
Of course you did, Mr. Lincoln. What kind of lawyer would you be otherwise?” She took a deep breath. “I’ve had a casual affair with Governor Chase. Very few people know of it. It means nothing to either of us and won’t lead to matrimony. I give you my solemn word.”

Lincoln smiled and shook his head. “You are remarkably candid.”

“
That might have been so if you didn’t already know what I just told you.”

“
I didn’t know the last part and that’s the part that matters.”

October 17, 1859

Washington, D.C.

T
he morning was unseasonably cold and as a result, the dining room at the Willard hotel was very crowded. “We were to meet my aunt here,” Paul Van Buskirk said to the maître d’hôtel.

“
Her name?” the man asked.

“
Anna Van Buskirk,” Paul said.

“
Or Lagrange,” Johnny added.

“
Right this way, please,” the maître d’ replied.

Paul Van Buskirk, Jeb Stuart, Johnny Van Buskirk and Fitzhugh Lee fell into line behind him.

Anna saw them and waved. She was wearing a dress trimmed in fur with a small fur hat that matched. Her cheeks were pink from the cold making her look much younger than her fifty-two years.

The four young men gathered around her, all trying to talk at once.

“
Sit down, please,” she giggled. “You’re making a scene.”

“
I must say that you’re more beautiful each time I see you,” Stuart said.

“
And I must say the same of you, Lieutenant,” Anna replied. “The beard is a distinct improvement. You must never shave it off.”

“
I have no intention of doing so, dear lady.”

“
His wife, Flora, likes it too,” Paul said.

“
Oh, how long have you been married, Lieutenant Stuart?” Anna asked.

“
It will be four years next month,” Stuart replied. He turned a cold eye on Paul and Paul chuckled.

Anna smiled at Lee. “You must be Fitzhugh Lee.”

“
Oh forgive me,” Johnny said. “I thought you had met.”

Lee blushed. “I have not had the pleasure.”

“
So,” Paul said. “What brings you to Washington, Aunt Anna?”

“
John Brown,” Anna said. “I’m doing a story about him for the
Times
.”

“
I thought you were finished with writing,” Johnny said.

She shook her head. “I do a freelance piece occasionally. If the story interests me. I knew John Brown in Kansas.”

Fitzhugh Lee had been looking over his shoulder. “Would you excuse me a moment, please, Madam. I see my cousin over there.”

“
Of course,” Anna said.

He got to his feet. “You might want to say hello too, Jeb.”

“
What’s that?” Stuart was so intent on Anna that he had missed the exchange and it took him a moment to catch up. “Oh. Yes. Forgive me.” He stood up and smiled at Anna, then followed Lee through the crowded dining room.

“
You’ve captured Beauty’s heart, Aunt Anna,” Johnny chuckled.

“
Some part of him, but not his heart,” she replied. “I pity his poor wife.”

“
He likes to flirt, but he’s really a devoted husband and father,” Paul said defensively.

“
I’m sure.” Anna looked from one to the other. “So how are you two? Do you like the South?”

“
It takes getting used to,” Johnny said. “But I love the cavalry. I didn’t expect to but – well, there you are.”

Anna looked questioningly at Paul. “What about you, Pea?”

He shrugged. “Serving under Granny Lee is a unique experience.”

“
Granny Lee?”

“
Colonel Robert E. Lee,” Johnny clarified. “And he’s not so bad. His religious fervor irks Pea.”

“
He’s too much the Southern gentleman.” Paul looked across the dining room. “He’s Fitz’s uncle, of course, and Beauty thinks he’s a god, so I don’t dare share my views with them.”

“
Have you heard anything about John Brown?” Anna asked.

“
If we had we wouldn’t be able to discuss it with you,” Johnny said before Paul could answer.

Anna kept her eyes on Paul. “Is that so, Pea?”

“
Yes,” he said, with a quick glance at Johnny. “Even if a trap was being set for him as we speak, we couldn’t tell you.”

Anna nodded. “If the trap’s not set at Harper’s Ferry it will be empty when you spring it. Your friends are coming back.”

October 18, 1859

Harper’s Ferry, Virginia

L
ieutenant Jeb Stuart marched toward the engine house carrying a white flag as if it was a guidon.

“
That’s far enough,” a booming male voice shouted.

Stuart halted at attention. “I have a message for Captain John Brown from Colonel Robert E. Lee, commander of the troops sent here by the President of the United States.”

“
Read it,” the voice replied. “I can hear you.”

“
Very well.” Stuart struggled to keep the flag erect while he opened the sealed message. “Colonel Lee, United States Army, commanding the troops sent by the President of the United States to suppress the insurrection at this place, demands the surrender of the persons in the armory buildings. If they will peaceably surrender themselves and restore the pillaged property, they shall be kept in safety to await the orders of the President. Colonel Lee represents to them, in all frankness, that it is impossible for them to escape; that the armory is surrounded on all sides by troops; and that if he is compelled to take them by force he cannot answer for their safety.” Stuart looked over his shoulder, then back toward the building. “Do you understand the terms offered?”

“
Yes.”

“
Do you surrender?”

“
No. I prefer to die here.”

Stuart did a smart about face, marched back and saluted Colonel Lee. “He refuses to surrender, sir,” he said, unnecessarily.

“
Very well.” Lee replied. “Mount up. Officers rejoin your units. We will attack when all are in place.”

Stuart gave the white flag to a sergeant, took the reins of his horse and swung up into the saddle. “Here we go at last.” He winked at Lieutenant Paul Van Buskirk and kicked his horse into a canter.

On Stuart’s command, a storming party of Marines carrying sledgehammers rushed the doors of the firehouse. Because the doors were tied closed with rope, the first attempts with the sledgehammers failed. The reserve was then brought forward and the men used a heavy ladder as a battering ram to burst through. One Marine was shot in the throat as they entered, but the others swarmed in with fixed bayonets and quickly killed or overpowered the belligerents. After a brief sword duel, Lieutenant Israel Green of the Marines wounded John Brown and took him prisoner.

~

“
Anyone with sense can see that John Brown’s a madman, Pea,” Jeb Stuart shouted.

“
You had better lower your voice,” Paul Van Buskirk said in a warning tone.

Stuart flapped his arms. “All right, all right. I’m sorry. But your sour attitude has ruined my good spirits.”

“
Your good spirits are ill-conceived,” Paul shot back. “Brown may well be a madman, but he represents a growing number of people who are willing to sacrifice themselves to end slavery. Can’t you see the implications in that?”

“
Of course I see. It’s very clear that the South must defend herself against that growing number.”

Paul looked away for a moment. “I’m going to put in for a transfer, Beauty.”

“
What?” Stuart’s eyes popped.

“
I don’t fit in here. With the exception of a handful, the officers and men are all Virginians with fierce loyalties to the State. I’m a Texan with strong ties to the Union. Virginia means nothing to me.”

“
Oh, wait. No, no, no. You can’t transfer, Pea. You’re my brother. You can’t leave me.”

“
I can’t continue to bite my tongue while you and the others talk of secession and forming a southern confederacy,” Paul said. “If that happens, I’ll be defending the Union. I don’t fit in here. This is no place for me.”

“
Very well.” Stuart was making a visible effort to calm down. “I agree that there’s some friction, but up until now you’ve seemed to handle it well. What’s brought this on so suddenly?”

Paul sighed. “I might as well tell you. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“
What?” Stuart asked.

“
Do you recall the conversation we had with my Aunt Anna yesterday?”

“
Indeed. How could I forget? Handsome woman. And so intelligent.”

“
You may want to revise your opinion of her after you read this.” He took a folded page from inside his tunic. “That will appear in the New York Times in the next few days.”

Stuart skimmed the article, then stopped and reread a paragraph. “The bitch.”