The Titans (17 page)

the script wasn't Lamont's. He tore the envelope open. When he saw the signature, he grew uneasy. Dear Sir. As I stated to you on Monday, I have always been an admirer of the man who was audacious rather than hesitant. Battles are never won by the joint' hearted. Consequently, your unexpected arrival at my residence may have generated responses on my part which were ill advised. I have this day come to Washington for private conferences with Mr. F. P. Blair, Sr., and my commanding officer. The Titans241 Jephtha knew then something important had happened. Francis P. Blair was the head of one of the most powerful political families in the nation, the Blairs of Maryland. He and his son Montgomery, the Postmaster General, were channels through which Lincoln sometimes spoke when he didn't wish to speak directly. The conversations were entirety confidential. But they reflected, in part, some of my utterances to you on Monday. Thus I have concluded I must ask you, as a gentleman, not to discuss, write, or otherwise disseminate what passed between us. To make certain my request is granted, I appeal to, and depend on, your sense of honor. I deeply regret any inconvenience I may have caused you. Humbly faithfully yours, R. E. Lee "Damnation!" Van Dyne turned to stare as Jephtha flung the letter on the floor and sat down to contemplate this latest turn of events. In the signature, Lee had omitted his rank. Jephtha thought that was significant. From intuition and experience, he could piece together the events leading to the letter. Virginia was out of the Union, which prompted Lee to come to Washington. Through Blair, the President had probably offered him command of the Federal forces-and Lee, visiting Winfield Scott, had refused. If the colonel hadn't already handed in his resignation, Jephtha was sure he'd do so shortly. Feeling frustrated, he kicked the locked drawer where he'd put the Lee notes and copy. Some reporters he knew would have cheerfully ignored the colonel's let 242The Bait ter. He was tempted-especially when he thought of Theo Payne. But he couldn't let Payne's reaction influence him. The drawer would remain locked. In twenty minutes he'd prepared his dispatch for transmission to New York. As he rose to leave, he noticed the arrangement of the papers on his desk. Looking more closely, he found that some notes for the Canterbury Hall dispatch were missing. So was the letter from Lamont. He cursed again-unheard this time because of the uproar in the lamplit room. Jim, the slow-witted sweep boy, was undoubtedly the culprit. The notes and letters had probably fallen on the floor. No great loss. But if they'd been important- Reluctantly, he decided he'd better interrupt Wallach and mention it. He was moving toward the editor's desk when young Dennis, the reporter assigned to Richmond, burst into the room: "We've got a stop-press, Mr. Wallach!" Wallach jumped up. "About time you came back! That free nigra you hired to ride up here with your last story took twice as long as he should have!" "Sorry, sir," Dennis panted as Jephtha and the other reporters crowded around. "They weren't-shall we say-too friendly at the Richmond telegraph office. I thought a courier was the safest way. I damn near wore out Jhree horses myself." "Something big?" "Yes, sir. I assume you know about the convention vote-was "Kent there brought the word from the presidential mansion. Don't tell me that's all you've got-?" "No, sir. An exclusive-I don't think it went out on the Richmond wire. The Virginia militia's on the march." The Titans243 All around Jephtha, men started talking excitedly. Wallach shouted: "Let him finish! How many troops, Dennis?" "At least a thousand. It must have been planned Monday or Tuesday. They started leaving the city the minute the convention voted." "Heading where?" Dennis wiped his perspiring face. The trip from Richmond was nearly a hundred miles. The young reporter looked exhausted. "According to a source I trust, Harper's Ferry." More commotion. Dennis added: "I expect the troops are in position by now. Or getting close-was "We've already got a stop-press going. We'll add that." Mollified, he added a curt, "Good work." Dennis looked wearily grateful as he sank to the edge of a desk, only to jerk like a puppet when Wallach pointed at him: "I want half a dozen paragraphs right away. Some of the rest of you help him. Barlow, you know the situation at the armory and the arsenal-was "Not exactly favorable to the Union side," Barlow drawled. "At last report, Lieutenant Jones commanded forty-two regular infantrymen." "Jesus!" another man said. "Forty-two against a thousand-was "Jones will have to pull out," said a third. "Burn the place." "He'd better do a good job," Barlow commented. "There are three or four thousand rifle barrels and gun locks stored there. Plus the manufacturing tools. If you want a nice irony, Mr. Wallach, Lieutenant Jones is Robert E. Lee's distant cousin." "I want a story!" Wallach snapped. "Get busy, Dennis. We'll hold the press until we get the report from the depot" 244The Bait "Some troops finally arriving?" Jephtha asked. "Hell, don't give the competition any help," someone called sarcastically. " Let the reverend do his own digging." Wallach spun. "The reverend has two virtues you don't, Mr. Cooper. He shares his information-as you'd know if you'd been here half an hour ago. And when he writes his copy, he's sober. Yes, Kent, a train's bringing in the Pennsylvania volunteers between six and seven. We received a wire from Baltimore." Jephtha headed for the door, light-headed. His belly ached from emptiness. But it would stay empty for several more hours. The news from Richmond and the depot was more important than his hunger. Outside the Star, he saw several of Cash Clay's special guards patrolling on the other side of the street. They didn't bother to conceal their bolstered sidearms or their sheathed Bowies. Two wagons loaded with household goods went by, the first driven by a middle- aged man who had his wife and adolescent daughter on the seat beside him. A black man-the white man's slave?-drove the other wagon. On all the faces, Jephtha saw fear. He stood a moment in the lowering light of the April afternoon, wondering about Gideon. Could he be among the thousand advancing on Harper's Ferry? He hoped not. But he knew Gideon's commitment to the cause would lead him into a battle eventually, along with the sons of countless other fathers- Hurrying toward the telegraph office, he recalled yet another of the hundreds of passages of Scripture that had become a part of him during his years in the ministry. The verse from Isaiah, chapter sixty, seemed to sum up the chaos into which the country was plunging: "for, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people-was He found the remainder of the verse-promising that The Titans245 the light and glory of the Lord would dispel the darkness comimpossible to believe. vi At the telegraph office, he expanded the Richmond convention story to include four paragraphs about Harper's Ferry. While the clerk was putting the dispatch on the wire, he quickly wrote a second, shorter message. There was no way to soften the news for Payne: COLONEL LEE IN WASHINGTON TODAY. SUSPECT HIS RESIGNATION TENDERED OR FORTHCOMING. LEE REQUESTED I WITHHOLD COMMENTS HE GAVE MONDAY. WILL HONOR THE REQUEST. WILL ATTEMPT TO LEARN DETAILS OF HIS VISITS TO BLAIR SENIOR AND GENERAL SCOTT. While the clerk hovered, Jephtha stared at the words with a rueful smile. What a fool he was. A priceless story-and solely his. Other reporters wouldn't have- Enough. He'd made up his mind. He added J. KENT and gave the dispatch to the clerk. Doing so raised another problem. He'd failed to come up with a single solid and exclusive piece since the firing on Sumter. He'd bargained away one-the presence of the Pinkertons-for selfish reasons. The other he'd abandoned because he had to live with himself. What could he offer Payne instead of the Lee interview? Nothing suggested itself. Jarred back to reality by a realization that the clerk had spoken, he said, "What's that?" "I said, do you want to wait for an answer?" 246The Bait "To the second message?" Jephtha handed over money. "No. When it comes in, just tear it up." "Tear it up-?" The clerk scratched his head as Jephtha walked outside into the lengthening shadows, still trying to come up with another idea for a story. He felt defeated. His tired mind was a blank. vii Shortly after seven o'clock, Jephtha found his answer comamid chaos. He was on one of the platforms of the Baltimore Ohio station between C and D Streets, three blocks north of the Capitol. Steam still hissed from beneath the twenty-two-ton B O Engine Number 232, just arrived. The engine was a beautifully symmetrical wood- burner of the type the line had begun buying from Mason of Taunton, Massachusetts. In "57 the builder had developed its prototype, The Phantom, for the Toledo Illinois. Knowledgeable travelers always felt lucky to ride behind a Mason locomotive. The Railway Gazette called his engines "melodies cast and wrought in metal." But this evening, neither Jephtha nor the arriving passengers were the least interested in the aesthetic considerations that had located the upper steam dome exactly above the equalizing lever between the sixty-six- inch driving wheels. Nor did they pay the slightest attention to Mason's use of tasteful dark blue paint accented by dark red on the wheels and cowcatcher-a dignified contrast to the rainbow gaudiness of most locomotives and tenders. Jephtha wanted to talk to some of the four hundred and sixty Pennsylvanians streaming up the platform. The disorderly ranks hardly resembled a military formation. The Titans247 But there were quite a few signs that the men had seen some fighting. The blue capes of the soldiers had a crude, homemade look. They wore forage caps modeled after the French kepi. The caps were decorated with small enameled badges Jephtha recognized as the state seal of Pennsylvania: an eagle spreading its wings above two rearing horses, and a rippling ribbon bearing the words Virtue, Liberty and Independence, The relief troops carried every conceivable kind of muzzle-loader. Many were rusty antiques. Jephtha saw only half a dozen of the increasingly popular rifled muskets. Every other reporter in Washington, it seemed, wanted to talk to the Pennsylvanians too. As a result, Jephtha was jostled and shoved by his competitors and ordered aside by this or that officer while being constantly engulfed in hot steam. The noise was stupefying. Thudding feet. Crude jokes. Continuous shouting: "Where they gonna to put us up, Charley?" "Hear tell it's the committee rooms in the Capitol." "Mighty fancy!" "Form up, goddamn it. Form up and keep moving!" "Hope to hell they got food waitin' for us-was Jephtha felt it prudent not to inform the complainer that he'd only be eating bacon tonight. Early that day, he'd watched greasy slabs of it being unloaded and carried into the Capitol basement. God, how the world had gone awry! Bacon frying in the halls of Congress-and bright-cheeked volunteers sleeping on Brussels carpets under crystal chandeliers! He managed to fall into step beside a young fellow with a cut forehead. He shouted, "What unit are you?" "Washington Artillery. Pottsville." Jephtha scribbled with a pencil stub. A man just behind 248The Befit yelled, "We're gonna lob some shells straight up the ass of Jeff Davis!" "Looks like you've already done some fighting-was "In Baltimore," the man behind growled. The younger man said, "Secesh crowds followed us while we changed stations. They yelled and cussed something fierce. Threw things, too." "The officers should of let us shoot the sonsa- bitches," the man behind declared. Jephtha struggled to write on a scrap of paper, squinting in the glare at the head of the platform. The oil wick in Number 232's headlight box was still lit. "How big was the mob that harassed you?" Jephtha yelled. "Three hundred-four hundred," the youth said. The forward progress of the soldiers was stopped momentarily by a jam-up in the terminal. "Who's countin' when you think you're gonna get killed?" "Was anyone killed?" "No. But they say it'll be worse tomorrow." "Tomorrow-his Hammond, quit shoving me!" Jephtha snarled at another reporter. "Go talk to someone else." He faced the young soldier again, back-stepping to keep up as the men started forward. "Why tomorrow?" "Sixth Massachusetts is due to pass through." "When?" "Noon or thereabouts." "Were you really frightened?" The young man looked into Jephtha's eyes. His head seemed to float in a cloud of glowing steam. "Go ask Nick." "Who's Nick?" "Our nigger mascot. He come along for the fun. The fun. He's back there a ways-was The man behind caught Jephtha's arm. "You write this down. For every lick they gave us in Baltimore, The Titans249" we'll give the fuckers ten in Virginia. Nobody fires on Old Glory and gets away with it. You write it downl" Barked orders sent the soldiers shambling out of the headlight's glare. Jephtha waited for the black man he'd spied at the rear of the platoon. The elderly Negro's uniform was just like those of the white volunteers. But his head was wrapped in rags stained reddish-brown. "Your name Nick?" "Nick Biddle, yessir. Come along to fight an free my people." Jephtha started walking backward again. He pointed his pencil at the bandage. "How'd you get hurt?" "Brick," Biddle replied, his eyes watering in the steam. "A brick from the crowd. My God, I never heard such filthy taunts. I'm not scared to fight with my boys from Pottsville. But I don't want to go through Baltimore again. Ill walk home first." A burly sergeant materialized in the steam: "Biddle, fall in properly! You-out of the way!" He shoved Jephtha, who stumbled from the plank platform and fell onto the empty tracks adjoining. The left knee of Jephtha's trousers tore as it ground against the cinders between the ties. Dim lines of men kept shuffling by, spirits dampened by the long journey and the mob antagonism they'd confronted. Gun barrels glinted in the gusting steam. Jephtha shivered. The train shed resembled a picture from hell. No, not hell. War. If there was any difference. He collected the scraps of note paper scattered by his fall and stood up, dusting himself off. Suddenly he drew in a breath- They say it'll be worse tomorrow. He recalled Lamont's letter. His eyes had an intense 250The Bait look as he followed the Pennsylvanians out of the depot into the April dark. A small crowd, including families with children, applauded the troops as they assembled. Soon they started marching toward the Capitol-for a welcome by Major McDowell and a sparse meal of bacon in the basement. vui "Strangest damn thing-was Jephtha sat on the edge of Molly's bed, his brow wrinkled in a moody, thoughtful expression. He was exhausted. The time was just past