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“Tell me, can our sailing ships be turned into steam vessels?” Lincoln inquired.

Welles was ready with the answer. “Only after a great deal of time and expense. After which, we would have old ships that are either underpowered, undergunned, or both. No, we are far better off with newer ships like the New Ironsides, or even the Monitor.”

The New Ironsides was a steam frigate with a wooden hull that would be sheathed in armor. She was scheduled for launching that coming May. The Monitor was a small ironclad of radical design that had been under construction in New York since late October. She was built in response to the reports that the Confederates were making an ironclad out of the burned hull of the Union frigate Merrimack. They had renamed the ship the Virginia, but everyone still used the old name.

John Hay saw the dismay on Lincoln's face. Only a handful of ships would be able to confront the British. Welles continued. “Any of our steam sloops that we can contact have been ordered to sea as commerce raiders.” “Privateers?” Secretary of War Cameron asked. The question brought him a scathing look from Welles.

“The world's civilized nations signed a treaty saying we would not use privateers, which are, of course, little more than legitimized pirates. Not even the rebels have countenanced privateers. No, we will use regular navy ships as commerce raiders, although,” he grinned uncharacteristically, “we may just use quite a number of them.”

Lincoln smiled and Hay caught the feeling of relief. Swarms of American “navy” ships would be commissioned and sent against the British. The English would squeal as much as the American merchants were going to. It would help keep large numbers of Royal Navy warships busy. The United States was not quite helpless at sea against the British monolith.

Welles continued. “Our coastal cities will be in grave danger, so I must emphasize the need for strong defenses. Shore batteries must be built and quickly.”

“Dear God,” said Cameron, a look of panic on his face. “British ships could sail right up the Potomac and bombard us. We must make plans to evacuate Washington.”

Welles glared at Cameron before responding. “If you hadn't noticed, very few ships came up the Potomac before the war, and those that did were relatively small. That is because the river is fairly shallow. I assure you that no major British ships will bombard Washington, and that the defenses, which General McClellan has caused to be built, are more than adequate to stifle any aggression on the part of the smaller British ships. No, I think we should be more concerned with Boston, Baltimore, New York, Hartford, and, since the British have ships everywhere, San Francisco.” A thought appeared to strike him. “Good lord, they could even send ships up the Mississippi to St. Louis!”

Later, John Hay related all of this to Nathan Hunter over an early dinner at Willard's Hotel. There were few people in the dining room and they were placed so they could speak in normal tones without being overheard. To anyone observing them, they were two friends enjoying a meal and a glass of wine. No one knew who Nathan was. and Hay wasn't that much of a celebrity.

Hay sat back in his chair and picked a piece of steak from between his teeth with a toothpick. “After determining that a British thrust up the Mississippi as far as St. Louis was unlikely, we then got to the army's role in future events. And when we were done. President Lincoln informed me that I should tell you all that transpired so that you could tell General Scott.”

Nathan pretended casualness. “I take it General McClellan was not enthusiastic about fighting England along with the South?” “An understatement,” Hay said.

McClellan had informed the group that he'd had two offensives in the planning stages and that both of them required naval support. One was an attack on New Orleans, and the second was a major thrust against Richmond by way of the Chesapeake Bay and the James River peninsula. He said they'd have to be abandoned because the British could isolate the New Orleans endeavor and wreak havoc with his supply lines in what he referred to as his Peninsular Campaign. The logic was compelling and this had been agreed upon. McClellan then pronounced that, since the Union army would be even more outnumbered than it was now, it should go on the defensive altogether.

“With that, Mr. Lincoln absolutely disagreed,” Hay said. “He informed McClellan and Secretary Cameron that the Union army had more than three hundred and fifty thousand well-trained and armed men in its ranks around Washington and should not stand down. In particular, the president saw no reason why operations should not continue around the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, where the British were highly unlikely to come, and down the Shenandoah Valley, which is quite a ways from any ocean. After thinking it over, McClellan agreed, although grudgingly. Cameron seemed paralyzed. I don't recall that he said a word. I think he still visualizes British men-of-war steaming up the Potomac.”

Hay helped himself to a piece of cake from a tray offered by a waiter. Nathan found it hard not to grin as he dug into it with glee. Hay may be Lincoln's trusted confidant, but he was still a little boy in many respects.

“Mr. Lincoln then told McClellan what he expected him to do in the east,” Hay said through a full mouth. “He said that Mac was right and that the British would soon arrive in the South with all sorts of cannon, rifles, and ammunition for the rebels. Thus, he said, the rebels were never going to be any weaker than they were right now. Therefore, Mac should attack forthwith and with all the troops he was going to use against New Orleans and along the James River Peninsula. Mr. Lincoln said that Mac should attack straight towards Richmond and go directly for Jefferson Davis's throat with the main army.”

This time Nathan did smile. Lincoln had a little more steel in him than he'd thought from their one meeting. “Mac demurred?”

“Loudly. He said it would be suicide. He said the rebels outnumbered him by fifty thousand, maybe even more, and were behind impregnable fortifications. He then said it might be time for Lincoln to settle for what they could get and negotiate a treaty with the rebels. I tell you, Nathan, I have never seen such a look of disbelief on Mr. Lincoln's face. His own commanding general was counseling giving up after building an army and never once having used it to fight.”

“Don't tell me that is what's going to happen?” Nathan said.

“No. After much wrangling and arguing, McClellan has agreed on an offensive towards Richmond. Whether he leads it in person or delegates it to someone else, like General Pope, is an open point. They will march south after the first of the year as soon as intelligence says the roads are passable. Mr. Lincoln had to agree that military operations would be virtually impossible until Virginia dries up, and that might not happen for weeks. Hopefully, thatwiii still give Mac or whoever he appoints plenty of time to drive on towards Richmond before the British presence is felt.”

“Very good,” Nathan said. He had much to tell General Scott. Most important was the fact that Lincoln had begun to be disenchanted with General McClellan. “One thing disturbs me:” Hay said. “And what is that?”

“The way McClellan was talking, he will march his army down the same way McDowell did, which will take it through Bull Run again. It would be horrible if we had to fight again in that graveyard.”