“Major Green told me. The general, General Halleck. He saw him die in the attack… then the major died too.”

“Board the men,” Grant ordered. “If there is no doctor with the wounded in that boxcar, see that one is found for them. With medical supplies. Let’s go.”

Grant was already staring at the map when the others boarded. He looked around at his officers, then tapped the map with a thick finger.

“Here,” he said. “Here is where we make the stand — and stop them. Stopped them there once before. Saratoga. Good defensive country. But we are going to have to block them and hold them with just what we have. Reinforcements will be on the way, but we don’t know when they will arrive.” He puffed furiously on the cigar.

“We hold, do you understand that? We are falling back now because we have no choice. But this is the last time. We will make a stand. After that we do not give way and we do not retreat. The only way they are going to advance is over our dead bodies.”

The whistle sounded and they swayed as the train clanked into motion and began to pick up speed.

In reverse. Back down the track. Grant hated this, hated to retreat but had no choice.

But this was going to be the last time.

THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN

“I don’t think that we are going to need all of the cavalry now,” Lincoln said, looking down from the window at the mounted soldiers clattering up the drive to the White House, dark silhouettes against the rising sun. “Not in the light of the most astounding recent developments.”

“I spoke almost those very words to the major in charge,” Hay said as he packed his ledgers into the carpet bag. “He was most firm in response — until he has orders to the contrary, he said — when you go out of this building you are to be surrounded by his troopers at all times. That assassin came close enough to put a bullet through your hat last month when you were out strolling by yourself. There are still a lot of people out there with a grudge against Old Abe.”

“Well, I imagine that you are right. Have we been able to contact General Sherman yet?”

“We have indeed,” Nicolay said. “Since we connected our telegraph wires to the Confederates’ telegraph system at Yorktown we have opened a whole new world of communication. General Sherman has already been picked up by the U. S. S. Itasca at Biloxi and is on his way to the meeting. There was some concern at first when our ship approached the harbor — particularly when a cannon was fired. But it was only a salute since they were the first to know that our troops helped to revenge their destruction. In fact it was hours before they could get away from the reception for Sherman.”

“A relief to hear. So the ceasefire is more than holding. Now then, let us away as well before Seward or Cameron get wind of our early departure.”

“Perhaps the Secretary of State…” Nicolay said hesitantly; the President interrupted.

“My mind is made up, Nico, you know that. If Jefferson Davis and I cannot work out an agreement between ourselves, no passel of politicians is going to be of any help. Do you realize what an opportunity has befallen us?”

“I can think of nothing else, sir, and didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Nor I, my boy, nor I. Have there been any more reports about the ceasefire?”

“Went into effect at midnight. There have been a few accounts of sporadic shooting on both sides, from troops who hadn’t received the word. But all that has died away now.”

“Excellent. So we shall see if a little yachting voyage might relax and refreshen us.”

The President led the way out of the office, with his heavily-laden secretaries following. The White House was silent, everyone asleep except the soldiers on guard. Lincoln mounted his horse while his secretaries put their bags into the carriage. Despite being six feet, four inches, most of the President’s height was due to his long legs. Now in the saddle he was surrounded by a solid wall of human flesh and invisible among the massed troopers. They trotted steadily out onto Pennsylvania Avenue, past the redolent canal and on to the Potomac.

Once aboard the steamer River Queen the President felt much better. He sat on the bench by the rail and pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them as he watched the lines being cast off. The engine throbbed smoothly and the green hills of Virginia moved slowly by.

“There will be Confederate troops waiting at West Point Depot,” Nicolay said, almost muttering to himself as he pulled at his wispy beard.

“I imagine that there will be, Nico, since their army is stationed there. And I am sure that they will also greet Jeff Davis with great enthusiasm when he arrives by train from Richmond. It was my decision to meet on Southern territory because they were forthcoming enough to send Lee and his men into ours. General Sherman had no hesitation in joining them and marching through the South, so I can do no less. But we are sailing in neutral waters and neutral we must remain. If I will be in any peril from the Confederates, why then a handful of troops or a few guns on this ship would make no difference. No, we must rely instead on the spirit of goodwill instilled by General Sherman. He was the one who stood in direst peril and he is to be admired for his strength and courage. He seized the nettle, did his duty as he saw it — and made this meeting possible.”

“Why did they do it?”

Lincoln knew who the they was since the same question was paramount in all their minds.

“As yet, we do not know. The captured British soldiers, like soldiers in any army, just followed orders. I hear that an officer has also been captured, but he is badly wounded. But for whatever reason the British attacked the South we must accept the fact that they did and make the most of it. This opportunity will not occur again. I pray only that Jeff Davis be of the same mind as the rest of us.”

The shore shimmered in the summer heat haze, but there was a cool sea breeze moving across Chesapeake Bay so they traveled in comfort. Only when the little ship turned into the York River did the heat return. The river here was more than wide enough for easy navigation, and only narrowed after it had passed the landings at West Point Depot. The ship’s engine shut down as they drifted slowly towards the dock at the depot. The lines were thrown, but instead of boatmen or longshoremen grabbing on, gray-coated soldiers hooked them over the bollards. Hay shivered at the sight of them, seized by the sudden thought that perhaps this was all some kind of desperate ruse to kidnap and kill the President. But, no, he had seen General Lee with his own eyes.

Word must have been sent ahead when the yacht was first seen in the river for there was a carriage now coming towards the landing. The Southern soldiers, in their motley and patched uniforms, had been drawn up and stood at attention. President Lincoln stood at the rail, patting his old, tall hat into place.

If there was ever a moment of historical significance this was surely it. In the midst of a terrible war there was suddenly peace. The guns were silent, the fighting stopped. Now the leaders of the two warring sides, which less than a day ago had been locked in mortal conflict, were prepared to meet each other in peace.

The carriage pulled up on the wharf and the top-hatted and elegantly clad figure that climbed down now could only be one man. Jefferson E. Davis, the elected President of the breakaway new nation. He conferred briefly with the officers who awaited him. Then he strode alone confidently towards the companionway that had just been pushed ashore. There he stopped for an instant.

President Lincoln who was waiting at the other end did not hesitate but walked down to meet him. For the first time since the war had begun he was standing on Southern soil. The long moment of silence was broken when he spoke.