Richmond, Virginia
June 1864
The knock on the door had come late in the evening, and Davis had answered himself. The servants, as Davis referred to the enslaved people who worked in his household, had disappeared over the course of the past two days.
Longstreet apologized for the late hour as Davis showed him into the parlor. “I thought it best to talk in person.”
Davis pointed to the chair, his chair, by the fire, and Longstreet sat. Davis pulled Varina’s chair around to face him.
Longstreet looked into the fire as if preparing for a difficult conversation.
Davis leaned forward. “I should like to hear everything, General. I’m not one to be mollycoddled.”
Longstreet laughed despite the occasion. “Not my intention to mollycoddle, Mr. President. The situation is stable but dire if that makes sense. Our troops were driven back into the defenses of Richmond. If you climb a church spire, you’ll see ’em.”
“Yes, I took a ride this afternoon and inspected some of the defenses myself. They’re strong. But a stone’s throw from here.”
“Mighty strong, Mr. President. We can hold out a long time in those trenches. But that’s my point. Seems to me that a siege just prolongs the inevitable. If we’re still determined to fight for independence—” He looked squarely at Davis. “If we’re still determined to fight, we’d do well to get the army, and the government for that matter, out of Richmond while we can. Head south and west. Meet up with Joe Johnston, set up shop in Birmingham. Texas maybe. Maintain room to maneuver and campaign.”
Now Davis was staring into the fire. Varina entered, carrying a tray with a bottle and two glasses. Longstreet stood. “Very sorry for the late hour, Mrs. Davis. I didn’t mean to trouble you for refreshments.”
“I heard you come in. You’re always welcome in this house, General. Our people have run off, it seems.”
Longstreet, still standing, nodded. “Seems every servant in Richmond has decided to find the Union Army. They’ve been streaming through our lines since yesterday. I gave orders to let them pass. We don’t have the manpower to do anything about it.”
“I shall leave you to your discussions. Good evening, General.”
“Good evening, ma’am.”
“Peter, what are the chances of getting out?”
“Hard to say, sir. Fitz Lee and his cavalry have been pushed back to the outskirts of Richmond as well. I’ve never seen so damn many Yankee cavalrymen. But Fitz thinks there’s a small window. We’d have to decide now. The Federals will keep pushing west and south until they cut off the roads and railroads. Now or never, I’d say.”
“Have you heard anything about McClellan’s condition?”
“We hear he’s still alive, though how, I don’t know. He was carried from the field. I never thought I’d say that George McClellan is the bravest soldier I’ve ever seen, but damned if he isn’t. Jackson’s flank attack caught Grant completely by surprise and had them on the run. McClellan stopped the rout almost single-handedly, and eventually Jackson ran out of steam and daylight. Grant’s got the army for now. He knows a thing or two about a siege.”
“If McClellan dies, he’ll be a hero. If he lives, he’ll be president. He’s come a long way since the Seven Days and Antietam.”
They sat in silence. Davis poured a couple of fingers of the brown liquid into the glasses, and they toasted without speaking.
“What are the chances of a counterattack? A breakout?”
Longstreet didn’t hesitate, shaking his head. “Impossible. They outnumber us three to one, though I’m not sure they know that. McClellan was always given to exaggerating our numbers. Nope. We try to slide out to the west and south, to fight another day, or we hunker down in the trenches.”
In his heart, if not in his head, Davis had always known it would come down to this. There would be a point at which he would have to decide whether to fight on or call it quits. It was hard to see a clear path to independence.
Davis swallowed the rest of the whiskey in a quick gulp. He stood and said, “Prepare the army to move south. The government will go with you. God help us.”