Washington City
January 1864
Varina Davis was seated in the parlor of their suite at Willard’s Hotel in Washington. A fire burned in the fireplace, though it produced little heat. It seemed to draw warmth up the chimney rather than radiate it. Her husband paced, an annoying habit in a small room.
“Why don’t you sit down and read the Washington papers. It will do you good to learn that you’re a military genius.”
“We’ll see if they still call me a genius when they learn I’m withdrawing Longstreet’s troops to defend Richmond.”
“How did the general take the news?”
“With his usual display of emotion and prattle.”
Varina smiled. “I see. In other words, he grunted?”
“Something akin to that. I believe he’s pleased. He’s no more comfortable than I playing the conqueror. He’s not worried about McClellan. He’s thinking about Grant. We’ll all feel better if our army is protecting Richmond. And having to supply two capitals is stretching our resources thin indeed.”
“And General Bragg?” Varina asked.
Davis sighed. “I believe he was surprised that I accepted his resignation. But he wasted a grand opportunity in Tennessee. General Johnston wired that he believed he could spare Bragg and some of his men to help us defend Richmond. I believe he just wants Bragg out of Tennessee. In any case, he should be arriving on the cars within a week, with about 10,000 men. They’ll be a big help. That army has fought well, but always poorly led. Longstreet will have to deal with Bragg . . . but I speak too freely.”
“It’s nothing that everyone doesn’t already know,” she said. “How did the Army of Northern Virginia acquire such talent while the Western Army suffered its lack?”
“I have to admit that our retired general had something to do with it. He recognized leadership when he saw it. Jackson, Stuart, Longstreet, Hill, the rest. He understood the particular qualities of each and used them accordingly. And recognized those with, uh, other qualities as well. Beauregard.”
Varina smiled. “You were not unhappy to see General Lee go. And now you want him back. Like a romance novel.”
Davis frowned. “I have complete faith in Old Pete to manage the defense of Richmond. He’s the devil to dislodge once he’s dug in. But a siege is a numbers game that we will never win. We can’t just defend Richmond once Grant arrives. We will need to defeat him. And that is a different kind of warfare altogether. That is Lee’s kind of war.”
“What news from the north?”
Davis’ frown deepened. “Nothing. I expect McClellan to attack Burgoyne at any moment. He must. It is no secret that George despises Lincoln and wants to be president. If he can whip Burgoyne, then march into Washington City before Grant, he just might pull it off. As you see in the northern papers, the public is sick and tired of the war, and Lincoln’s re-election is no foregone conclusion. Especially as he sits in Philadelphia, having been chased out of the capital.”
“So, you do read the Northern papers.”
Davis smiled. “Selected articles that suit my frame of mind.”
After a comfortable silence, Varina said, “It’s true, you know. This is truly a Southern city. The people, at least those who didn’t leave, seem delighted that we’re here. The White people, I should say.”
“Yes. It was always an anomaly that the Northern capital permitted slavery. It confused their war aims and I believe that’s why Lincoln finally decreed an end to it. A lot of people here would be happy to go back to the old ways.” He looked at his wife. “White people, as you say.”
Davis continued his pacing. “We should return to Richmond tomorrow. Pete and the army will follow. These next weeks will seal our fate.” A long pause, then, “Burgoyne must crush McClellan so we can concentrate our efforts on Grant.”