Notes

Kentucky to stay in the Union, had even spoken with him. He shivered
again. In defeat in the world he knew, Lincoln had wanted to martyr himself
for the United States. In the other world, where there was no need for it, he
had been made a martyr in the hour of his greatest triumph.
At last, Lee closed the Picture History of the Civil War. His joints creaked
and protested when he got up from his chair: how long had he been sitting,
rapt? He took out his watch. He blinked-it was after midnight.
"Dear God, I've entirely forgotten Melvin Bean!" he exclaimed. He hoped
the young soldier had bought supper as well as dinner with his money,
hoped even more that he was still here-perhaps stretched out asleep on a
couch in the hotel lobby-to be questioned. Lee opened the door, hurried
down the hall to find out.
To his dismay, he found no gray-clad soldier taking his ease in the lobby, or
at the bar. No waiter recalled serving supper to any such person. Scowling,
Lee headed for the front desk. Bean had said he had money; maybe, just
maybe, he'd taken a room here.
The desk clerk regretfully spread his hands. "No, sir, nobody by that name
has checked in today." He spun the registration book on its revolving stand
so Lee could see for himself. Then he turned to the bank of pigeonholes
behind him. "This came in for you this afternoon, though, sir." Sure enough,
the envelope he held out bore Lee's name in a sprawling scrawl. Lee
accepted it with a word of thanks, slit it open. When he saw what was
inside, his breath went out in a surprised hiss. Page 292
"Something wrong, sir?" the clerk asked anxiously.
After a moment, Lee said, "No, nothing wrong." He took the twenty dollars
out of the envelope, returned the bills to his pocket, and slowly walked back
to his room.
"What can I do for you today, General Lee?" Andries Rhoodie asked, more
than ordinary curiosity in his deep, rough voice. "I tell you straight out, I'd
not expected you to ask me for a meeting."
"Nor had I expected the need for my doing so to arise," Lee answered. "I
find, however, that you and your colleagues have been less than completely
candid with me and with others in the Confederacy concerning the course
events would have taken had America Will Break not intervened on our
behalf-or perhaps on your own behalf would phrase it more accurately."
"Haw.!" Rhoodie fleered laughter. "You find that, do you? I tell you now,
what I have said before is the truth. And even if it weren't, how the devil
would you know?"
Lee sat beside a small marble-topped table, covered at the moment with an
antimacassar borrowed from the couch. He pulled the cloth aside to reveal
the Picture History of the Civil War. "By this means, sir." Rhoodie's air of
disdainful arrogance crashed in ruins; for the first time since he'd known the
Rivington man, Lee saw him altogether at a loss. Rhoodie lost color, gave
back a pace, sank heavily into a chair. His mouth opened, but no sound
came forth. After a few seconds of gathering himself, he tried again:
"How did you come by that book?"
"That is none of your affair," Lee said.
Though he had no intention of revealing it to Rhoodie, the question still
bothered him. As far as he could tell, Melvin Bean had disappeared from
Richmond, nor had discreet questions at the railway depots revealed anyone
who had seen a person of his description boarding a southbound train,
whether in uniform or other men's clothing. Lee had also had the military
records examined: sure enough, a Melvin Bean had been mustered out
along with the rest of the 47th North Carolina in 1864, but there the trail
ended. It was a puzzle, but one that was not relevant here and now.
He went on, "In any event, no matter how I obtained the volume, it speaks
for itself."
"So it does," Rhoodie said, rallying. He was neither weakling nor fool, and
not a man to be cast down long. "It tells you how the United States would
have crushed your country and your dreams to dust without us. You've not
been any too bloody grateful for our help, either."
"I freely acknowledge it," Lee said. "As for gratitude, I should feel more
were I surer your aid was disinterested, intended to further our ends rather
than your own."
"Some of us died in the taking of Washington," Rhoodie growled.
"I know, but for what cause?" Lee reached out to lay a hand on the Picture
History of the Civil War. "As you can imagine, I have read this work
repeatedly, and with the closest attention. Yes, our struggle for freedom
would have failed without you; in so much you told the truth. But in other
regards-you spoke of Lincoln's tyranny over us, of ceaseless strife between
black and white, of other evils whereof your book here makes no mention.
Page 293
What it does mention is a continuing search for justice and equality
between the races, one incomplete even in that distant future day, but
nonetheless of vital import to both North and South. This seems to me to be
in accord with a continuation of the trends that have grown here in my own
century, and dead against your account of what lies ahead."
"Nonsense." A wave of Rhoodie's hand brushed aside Lee's words. "Or
would you care for one of your daughters to many a kaffir and submit to his
loving embrace?"
Lee did not particularly care for the idea of his daughters marrying at all.
He answered, "No, to be frank, I should not care for that. But it is neither
here nor there. The discrepancy between your words and the tone of this
history makes me wonder whether you and American Will Break are in
accord with the spirit of the future, as you claim, or whether you are in fact
as misplaced and out of step with your own time as John Brown was with
his."
Andries Rhoodie had gone white before. Now he turned red. One big fist
clenched. His guttural accent came thicker than Lee had ever heard it as he
ground out, "Since you aim on taking the Confederacy to the devil, General
Lee, we will show you what we are. That I vow."
"Do not think to threaten me, sir."
"I do not threaten," Rhoodie said. "I promise."
"You jus' leave it all to me, Marse Robert," John Dabney said. "I promise I
take care of everythin' for you, make your inauguration day special."
Robert E. Lee liked that kind of talk, whether from a junior officer during
the war or, as now, from a caterer. Smiling, he said, "I place myself entirely
in your hands, John." The rotund Negro beamed. "Make me a raft o' mint
juleps for drinks. The Prince of Wales, he like my mint juleps, you know
that, sir?"
"So IVe heard, yes." Now Lee kept a damper on his smile: Dabney told that
story at any excuse, or none. But it was true; when the prince visited
Richmond in 1860, he'd praised the colored man's juleps to the skies. The
renown that won Dabney helped him gain so many cooking and bartending
jobs that he'd been able to buy himself and his wife their freedom. Before
the end of the war, he'd started his own restaurant and catering service.
Since then, no one who was anyone in Richmond would think of holding a
large entertainment without his supervision.
Dabney's eyes got a faraway look as he added some detail to the feast that
would follow Lee's installation as President. The Negro could neither read
nor write; he had to carry in his head all the preparations for each of the
banquets he had in progress. Nobody had ever known him to slip up on that
account.
Lee went into the bedroom of his Powhatan House suite. There Julia and his
daughters were helping Mary Custis Lee into her gown. "You look lovely,
my dear," he said. "That shade of creamy yellow is particularly becoming to
you."
"I wish I'd had the seamstress make a jacket to go with the dress," his wife
answered. "It's a raw day out there."
"Early March is apt to be," Lee admitted. "Still, the sun is shining. If I'd
chosen to be sworn in on Page 294
Washington's birthday, as President Davis did, rather than waiting until
March 4, we should have displayed ourselves in Capitol Square in the midst
of a snowstorm: hardly an edifying spectacle for the people."
"Why did you decide to wait?" his daughter Mary asked. "With the family's
connection to Washington, I'd expected you to follow Davis's lead."
"I had two reasons. One was fear of the weather, which proved justified.
The other was that the Constitution prescribes March 4 as the first day of a
new President's term, and I desire to observe scrupulously its every
provision." Lee reflected on his own hypocrisy. While following all the
meaningless minutiae for his inauguration, he aimed to sidle around the
much more prominent Constitutional prohibitions against interfering with
slavery.
He intensely disliked feeling like a hypocrite, which was both alien and
repugnant to his nature. But a show of observance on small matters would
help mask his deviation in great ones, and he was resolved to deviate. The
success of a man like John Dabney pointed up the injustice of slavery as no
abolitionist tract could. Aside from the caterer's undoubted ability, that was
one reason Lee had engaged him: if legislators saw a successful black man
in action, they might be more inclined to allow other Negroes to seek the
same road.
Mildred Lee fastened a last stay. "We're ready, Father," she said.
"Excellent. Then let us proceed."
"I want a lap robe, lest I catch my death," Mary Custis Lee declared.
"Fetch your mother a lap robe, and quickly," Lee said, with a pointed glance
at his watch. "The ceremony is to commence at half past eleven o'clock."
Mildred draped the robe over her mother's knees. "Is that fast enough to suit
you?" she asked. "Or if I'd taken longer, would you have left without us, the
way you used to march off to church by yourself sometimes when we were
slow?"
Lee, whose natural sense of punctuality had been reinforced by more than
thirty-five years of military, discipline, said, "As well you didn't expose me
to the temptation." Mildred stuck out her tongue at him. He made an effort
at looking severe, but found he was smiling in spite of himself. Julia started
to push Mary Custis Lee's chair, but Lee waved her away: this was a duty
he would undertake himself. Rather than going out to the lobby of the
Powhatan House, he headed for the hotel's rear doorway, which opened
right across from Capitol Square. His daughters walked proudly behind
him, their wide skirts rustling as they glided down the hall.
Chill air smote. Lee's breath puffed from him, as if he had suddenly taken
up pipe smoking. His wife pulled the lap robe higher. "There; you see? I
should have frozen," she said. Lee reached down to pat her shoulder. "I am
glad you have it."
Capitol Street and the paths through Capitol Square already swarmed with
people making their way toward the covered wooden platform which had
been erected under the statue of Washington. Marshals with drawn swordsand
with AK-47s slung on their backs-briefly halted the tide to let Lee and
his family cross. Before he and Albert Gallatin Brown were sworn in on
that platform, other ceremonies awaited at Page 295
the Confederate Capitol.
Marshals helped Lee wrestle his wife's chair up the stairs to the flag-draped
entrance to the Capitol. The chief marshal, a plump, superannuated colonel
of ordnance named Charles Dim-mock, saluted. "Mr. President-elect," he
boomed.
Lee inclined his head. "Mr. Chief Marshal."
Congressman Sion Rogers of North Carolina bustled up to Lee. "Mr.
President-elect, on behalf of the Joint Committee on Arrangements, it is my
privilege to welcome you to the Congress of the Confederate States of
America. If you and your charming family will please to come with me?"
He escorted the Lees into the chamber of the Virginia House of Delegatesthe
Virginia legislature continued to meet in the Capitol, along with the
Confederate Congress. Congressmen, senators, members of the Virginia
Senate and House, Virginia's Governor Smith, several other state heads,
judges, generals, and clergymen packed the hall, along with a goodly
number of reporters. They converged on Lee until Colonel Dimmock
interposed his formidable person between the throng and the Presidentelect.
The minister from the United States caught Lee's eye.
"Congratulations, General, or rather, Mr. President-elect."
"Thank you, Mr. Pendleton," Lee answered gravely. George Pendleton, a
former congressman from Ohio, was a close friend to U.S. Vice President
Vallandigham, and had favored peaceful accommodation with the South
throughout the Second American Revolution. Lee added, "Let me applaud
you on General Sheridan's recent capture of Winnipeg. Your armies
continue to perform very well, as does your ironclad fleet on the Great
Lakes."
"You are generous to a recent foe." What Pendleton meant by that was
thanks for forbearing to comment on the complete dominance of the British
fleet on the high seas. Not only had Boston harbor been bombarded again,
but a force of English marines had seized and burned San Francisco, then
reembarked on their ships and departed before U.S. forces could do
anything about it.
"If you will come with me, Mr. President-elect..." Congressman Rogers
said. Lee obediently followed him to the front of the chamber. Jefferson and
Varina Davis, Albert Gallatin Brown and his wife Roberta, and outgoing
Vice President Alexander Stephens, a lifelong bachelor, were already
standing there chatting. So were Lee's three sons and Joseph Brown; Albert
Gallatin Brown's other son. Bob, captured at Gettysburg, had emerged from
a Northern prison camp so weak that he had died a year after the war ended.
"There, you see, Mildred, we are the last to arrive," Lee said. His youngest
daughter only sniffed. He laughed a little; Mildred was incorrigible.
As he came up, he noticed mat, while Varina Davis and Roberta Brown
were talking animatedly, their husbands, longtime political foes in
Mississippi, still had little to say to each other. "That is a lovely ring, Mrs.
Davis," Roberta Brown remarked. "May I see it more closely?" Varina
Davis extended a slim, shapely hand. "Mr. Davis gave it to me upon our
engagement. A dozen small diamonds surround an emerald-cut sapphire."
"Lovely," Mrs. Brown said again. "The mounting is also very fine work."
Page 296
The talk broke off when Jefferson Davis saw Lee approaching and hurried
up to shake his hand. Albert and Joseph Brown followed, as did Stephens
and Lee's own sons. Lee also bowed over the hands of Varina Davis and
Roberta Brown. Jefferson Davis said, "I leave you a nation at peace and
secure within its borders, sir. God grant that you may offer your successor a
similar boon." Congressman Rogers, who wore a harassed expression,
consulted a scrap of paper he carried in his left hand. "If you ladies and
gentlemen will be so kind as to form a receiving line... First you, Mr. Vice
President, then the Vice President-elect's family, then Mr. Brown himself,
then the President's family and Mr. Davis, then the Lees, and finally
General Lee himself in the place of honor at the end..." He repeated himself
several times, and chivvied people about until he had them all where he
wanted them. Dignitaries began filing past, shaking hands and offering best
wishes. Lee returned murmured words of thanks, which he wondered if they
heard. Finally, Senator Louis Wigfall of Texas broke the routine. Nathan
Bedford Forrest's defeated running mate was a burly, broad-shouldered
man, with a fierce countenance and a long, thick beard. He growled, "If you
think you're gonna turn the niggers loose, General Lee, you'll do it only
over my dead body."
"I do hope it won't come to that," Lee said quietly-let Wig-fell make of the
answer what he would. The Texan stopped, stared, scowled, and, at last,
forced by the crowd behind him, moved on. Lee's arm was tired and his
hand sore when Congressman Rogers declared,' "The hour now nears half
past twelve o'clock. We shall proceed out through the east door of the
Capitol to the platform in the following order: first, Chief Marshal
Dimmock and his marshals; next, the band, which has-I hope-gathered by
the east door; next, the members of the Joint Committee on Arrangements;
next, the President-elect, attended by the outgoing President; next, the Vice
President-elect, attended by the outgoing Vice President; next, the families
of these officials; next, the members of the old and new Cabinets-excluding
Mr. Davis, for obvious reasons-and their families, next..." He went on for
some time, marshaling his hosts like any good general. Senators and
congressmen even lined up in columns of four. The press made up the rear
of the procession, behind Masons and members of other benevolent
societies but ahead of the generality of citizens.
The band began blaring "Dixie" as Lee made his way toward the east door-
Congressman Rogers let out an audible sigh of relief to hear them. Lee
remembered the last time he had left the Hall of Delegates. A band had
played then, too, for he had just been invested with the command of the
armed forces of a Virginia not yet even formally affiliated to the
Confederate States of America. His step faltered for a moment as he
thought of the changes he had been part of through the past seven years.
Outside, Colonel Dimmock was shouting at the generality of citizens who
already crowded Capitol Square: "Make way for President Lee! Without the
President, you don't have a show. Make way, make way! Marshals, move
them aside."
The marshals did their best. Slowly, the procession began to advance. The
journey to the base of Washington's statue took three times as long as it
should have. Lee fidgeted nervously as he went along at slow march.
Jefferson Davis set a calming hand on his arm. "The crush does not matter,
not today. As the good colonel said, without you we have no show." Caught
out like a small boy at some naughty act, Lee spread his hands in a show of
guilt.
The band, still playing lustily, took its place to one side of the wooden
platform after the marshals cleared away the numerous citizens who had
thought the area ideal for viewing the inaugural ceremony. That only
packed the rest of the square more tightly; crowds spilled out onto Ninth
Street and Capitol Street, Page 297
snarling traffic on both thoroughfares and creating a hubbub which, in both
volume and intensity, seemed inappropriate to the celebration about to take
place.
Having displaced the improperly situated spectators, the marshals spread
out along the front of the platform. There were at most a dozen of them; it
was no great show of force. Lee thought of Lincoln's 1861 inaugural in a
country coming apart, where sharpshooters peered from the windows of the
U.S. Capitol and a battery of artillery remained just out of sight in case
insurrection broke out without warning. No such fears disrupted the
Confederate States, not today.
Lee and Jefferson Davis ascended to the platform. So did Alexander
Stephens and Albert Gallatin Brown. The members of the Joint Committee
on Arrangements already stood up there. Congressman Rogers had another
list in his hand. "Yes, Bishop Johns, your place is up here, as is yours, of
course, Judge Haly-burton. Colonel Dimmock, you too, if you please, and
the President of the Senate, and the Speaker of the House of
Representatives, and you, Governor Smith. For our other distinguished
guests, we have seats waiting down here at the front." He pointed to the
rows of wooden chairs there, marked off by a gilded rope.
There was only one problem with those wooden chairs-not enough of them
had been set out. Senators and members of the Virginia House of Delegates,
reporters and congressmen and Cabinet members rowed like Kilkenny cats
as they tried to stake out places to sit. Lee watched the unseemly spectacle
for a couple of minutes, then turned to Charles Dimmock. "Mr. Chief
Marshal, may I beg a favor and ask that my wife be brought up here? Given
her infirmity, I fear she may not be altogether safe in that seething crowd."