They parted as friends, both financially better off for their little meeting.
A week later Dick was invited to drop into the British Embassy in Washington, ‘just so that he could discover what was going on in the world’, so the note suggested.
“Do you intend to remain in America, Sir Richard?”
The military attaché was politely interested; there was nothing in his attitude to suggest that the question was at all important. He was so casual in fact that Dick was immediately suspicious of his motive.
“I have been liquidating my business interests here, sir. I intend to concentrate on my affairs in England. My lady wife is in an interesting condition and we shall return to Dorsetshire and await the outcome of events there. You will have heard that I was shot on the streets of Kansas City; the event has given her a distaste for the States.”
“Yes, I did hear something to the effect that a Southern agent recognised you and panicked; very unprofessional!”
“He missed killing me as well!”
“Even more amateur! Talking of which, do you know of any play-actor in the employ of the South?”
“I know of the existence of a Copperhead known by the soubriquet, but who he is, and what, I am ignorant of, sir. The man McKay, who was some sort of contact of his, I believe, knew nothing more of him. He suspected him to be an air-dreamer, full of might-have-beens and maybes.”
“We have word of such a figure involved in some nebulous scheme to kidnap Mr Lincoln as a last throw to achieve Southern victory. We have no detail of any concrete endeavour, however.”
They shrugged – there were always would-be plotters, most of them no more than wind-bags.
“A man with military experience and with some slight eminence on the field of battle who was nonetheless a businessman, perhaps with an interest in ship-building, might be well received in Prussia just now, Sir Richard. A title would help as well. If you should have any interest in Northern Europe, then they might have a proposition to discuss in London. Services to the Crown, and all that, Sir Richard.”
When a political barony was gazetted it was normally granted as a reward for Services to the Crown; the implication was unsubtle.
“My wife’s family would be more than pleased at such a thought, sir. We shall remain in Washington for a few weeks, reckoning to sail in spring when the seas are often kinder.”
“A wise move, Sir Richard – sea-sickness is not to be recommended for a lady in a delicate condition. General Grant is located in Washington this week; will you wish to renew your acquaintance with him?”
The question was tantamount to an order to do so; Dick immediately acquiesced.
“Sir Richard, a pleasure to see you again! I hear you have been in the wars, sir.”
“Shot almost by accident, General – a Southerner who had been in Canada and found himself unwelcome and was trying to make his way back home and saw me on the streets of Kansas City. The man panicked, wholly unnecessarily – this war is coming to an end, and so should the shooting.”
“I agree, Sir Richard. Too many have died for no good purpose. We have no count of all of the losses to our country, but fear that the figure cannot be fewer than one half of a million of soldiers. How many of the civilian population have died directly or indirectly I cannot guess. There is talk of tens of thousands of women and children, mostly in the South, taken by famine and disease, and there must be many more, especially of the very young, who will be crippled for life from eating poorly for years. The numbers of severely wounded who will never fully recover can only be imagined – but for every dead man there must be one, at least, who has suffered hurts that will never wholly be made good. This has been the cruellest war in recent history, Sir Richard, and yet still there are those who will not let it come to an end.”
Dick had nothing to say – there was no comfort to offer, no justification to suggest to a man whose conscience was hurting. However much the war had had to be won, Grant had been responsible for a large proportion of those casualties and must find it difficult to sleep at night. It was easy to say that Lee and Jefferson Davis were much more to blame for refusing to surrender when there was no longer a possible chance of winning – but it was Grant who had given the orders to the Union and he must wonder if he could not have found a better way of completing his victory.
“How much longer, sir? Another month, or more?”
“I hope, very much, to have forced Lee’s army to lay down its guns by Inauguration Day, Sir Richard. At latest by the end of April. Then I shall look to bring my military career to an end. The President has great plans for reconstruction and reconciliation and I must hope to play a part there. What of you, sir?”
“The Queen has plans for me, it would seem, General. My wife as well – we are expecting our first-born in late summer. The work in Canada is no longer urgent and I believe I may have to perform some function in Prussia.”
“There is a certainty of war in Northern Europe, I am told, Sir Richard.”
“So I understand, General. You will appreciate that Britain will take no part in such conflicts. Our army is small and is designed far more for colonial duty. We may well wish to observe, and will certainly be interested in any naval battles and especially will need to protect our shipping interests.”
That last was not a tactful comment – British policy during the war had been successful in encompassing the destruction of the American mercantile marine in the Atlantic and such figures as were available suggested that British ships now carried more than nine-tenths of the ocean borne trade of the whole world. The American government could not be expected to be pleased with that state of affairs.
“It has been suggested that our claims against the British government for ships lost to Southern privateers constructed in your Liverpool yards might be taken to international arbitration. I am certain that neither government wishes to come close to a war, Sir Richard.”
“I am unable to comment on that, General, on the grounds of ignorance. Kansas City is not the place to be when matters of high international import are being discussed.”
Grant nodded and dropped the subject, knowing that his words would reach the British Ambassador that day and would be debated in Whitehall before the month was out. It was better far to deal with delicate matters through unofficial channels so as to reach a behind the scenes agreement before any great public meeting took place between the political leaders of the two countries.
“On the question of Canada, Sir Richard. It is increasingly certain that Irish troops will form a Fenian Brigade after they are discharged from the Union Army at the end of hostilities. How many thousands is not clear but it will be far less than all of those currently enlisted. It will be impossible to keep rifles out of their hands, but they will have no access to artillery or other modern weaponry. They will find themselves arrested when they are driven south of the border but it will be, as we feared, almost impossible to intercept them before they make their incursions. While there are no wholesale hangings of those captured then the American government will show them no sympathy, sir, though it will be difficult to prosecute the rank and file.”
“It is the duty of any sovereign state to defend its own borders, General. I will hope that the British government will take that duty seriously. God alone knows whether it will – British politicians are said to resemble the ostrich of the Cape in Africa when it comes to matters of defence.”
General Grant had not heard of the bird, was entertained to hear of its habit, so it was reported, of burying its head in the sand when danger threatened, thus being unable to see any hazard.
“Very much like politicians the world over, it would seem, Sir Richard. I will wish you good luck in your future dealings, Sir Richard. You have served your masters and mine very well in the past years, sir. I am very glad that our interests coincided! You will always be sure of a welcome in America, sir.”
“I believe I am a fortunate man for having met you, General, and am gla
d indeed to have been of slight service to you. I trust we may meet again, sir.”
Grant escorted Dick to the door of his offices, stopping as a thought apparently came to him.
“I believe you have never met the President, Sir Richard. It could be arranged, if you should so wish. Your lady wife as well.”
“I would be honoured, General, as would Lady Burke.”
Book Three: The Making
of a Man Series
Chapter Six
President Lincoln looked exactly like his pictures. It was silly to be amazed, Dick supposed, but it was strange to see the well-known face in the flesh. He seemed tired, worn down by work and worry, but still there was a quirk of amusement to his lips.
General Grant made the introductions and the President found time to be interested in his visitors.
“They tell me you are a baronet, Sir Richard, but knights are also called ‘sir’, or so it seems.”
“Baronet is an hereditary title, Mr President. I am baronet because my father died, having first had the courtesy to sire me. A knighthood must be earned, sir – by distinction in battle or by long and honest service to the Crown. Such being the case, sir, the knighthood is inferior to the baronetcy when it comes to matters of precedence.”
Lincoln chuckled, it was a comment that appealed to his sense of humour and knowledge of the world.
“Much like the Boston Brahmin. In their opinion it is quite sufficient to be born – you don’t have to actually do anything! You have heard the term, coined by our literary medical man, Mr Oliver Wendell Holmes, I presume?”
“My lady wife has read his poetry, and informed me that I should do so as well, but I did not know him to be a doctor, sir.”
“A very able one, too, Sir Richard, and hence unpopular in his profession. He has this penchant for curing patients rather than burying them; add to that, he has been concerned to prevent disease!”
“I can see that might be unpopular, Mr President. Many a doctor has had a problem persuading a patient to pay for being cured; how much worse for billing a man for staying healthy! It is very difficult, after all, to be persuaded that the doctor has a great deal to offer, more than simple surgery that is.”
“Just that, sir! I am minded though that medicine has showed any number of advances in the last five years, particularly in the treatment of gunshot wounds.”
“Medical men have had a lot of experience in that field, sir.”
Lincoln sighed, his face clouded.
“This war has been bloody and long, sir. Now that it is coming to an end we must rebuild our united country, without rancour, every citizen equal and to be treated as such. We must continue to collect our taxes but use them to make our country anew, rather than waste them on guns and powder!”
“Amen to that, Mr President. There will be no gain to the abolition of slavery if the whole of the South is to be placed in bondage.”
Lincoln and Grant agreed, but both demurred that the victors would expect some share of the spoils. Soldiers who had fought and possibly seen their brothers die at their sides must be given some reward.
“I am glad that I do not have that problem to solve, sir. I suspect that you will have some answer though – if not, I can imagine no man who will.”
“I have four more years, Sir Richard. I hope to have made a start on building a lasting peace in that time. Will you be present in Washington on Inauguration Day, sir? Festivities will be muted, but I would hope you and your lady could be part of them. My people will send you the invites, sir.”
Dick made his thanks and they withdrew from the presence.
“A good-hearted and kindly man, Sir Richard!” Louise was much taken with the President. She had entered his presence expecting to find him no more than a politician, was quite amazed to discover a decent human being. “If our first-born should happen to be male, I would much like his second name to be Abraham, Sir Richard.”
“I would agree with that, my dear. That can also serve as a reminder of my father."
"I did not know that to be your father's name, sir."
"It was not."
She assimilated that statement, took no more than a second to comprehend the significance of 'Abraham'.
"Oh! That I had not appreciated - nor, I suspect, had my mama! I shall tell her one day, probably when she has irritated me."
She laughed, anticipating the outrage that would occur on that day, perhaps a year hence, maybe not for a decade. She would enjoy that, she decided - there was much to be said for the independence of marriage, especially to a man who was making himself socially superior to one's own parents.
Dick was not displeased that she found the situation funny - he had wondered previously how she might react to the discovery of the taint of the Hebrew.
"What should his first name be?” Dick asked.
“Richard would be an obvious choice.”
“Perhaps. Would Albert be more dutiful, do you think?”
“Very Germanic! Loyal, of course, but just a little enthusiastic – every vulgar little lady of the middle order of people will name a son Albert.”
“Not Albert.”
“George, William and Frederick are not eligible in this age – far too reminiscent of the excesses of the Hanoverians. The Prince Regent was, after all, a disgusting little beast and no gentleman; we do not wish to inflict his name upon our offspring. Charles and James are equally to be scouted – we want none of this Jacobite nonsense!”
They came back to Richard, which had the advantage of political neutrality at least.
“And a third name, my dear?”
She smiled sweetly, said she had quite determined on that.
“Richard Abraham Sharps Burke – the name has a ring to it!”
He had no comment to make.
“A dressmaker must be our next call, I must imagine, my dear. You will wish to be at your best for Inauguration Day. I shall wear dress uniform, though whether it should be British or American is a good question.”
The Ambassador had no doubt at all.
“American, Sir Richard, as a courtesy. The formal dress of your regiment of Kansas Infantry would be most appropriate. You are a guest of the President rather than a member of the Embassy party so you should make the most of your American connection. We can make use of it." He smiled graciously and turned the subject. "I am told that Lady Burke is a talented musician, Sir Richard. You must come to the Embassy’s musical evening this week.”
“It will be my pleasure, of course. May Lady Burke perhaps avail herself of the piano this week, of an afternoon? We have been months in Kansas City and she must wish to practice, to regain her accustomed skill.”
Louise was glad of the opportunity to play again – the lack of music was one of several irritations of hotel life.
“Hummel and Herr Brahms, I believe, Sir Richard. The first because he has a delightful lightness of touch and flow to his melodies. Brahms because his Third Sonata matches those of Beethoven; he has a darkness to him, admittedly, but he is the great master of our time.”
Dick had no idea whether or not she was right, but knew that she far outmatched him in her musical performance and understanding.
“Have you the sheets with you or should we buy new?”
“They are in my head, Sir Richard.”
The ambassador and his lady enjoyed their music and had some little knowledge in the field. Their congratulations were sincere and well expressed. Other ladies who had contributed to the evening, almost every one of them playing Mendelssohn, were less delighted, though they made a great noise of their applause.
“Do you leave Washington this month, ma’am? If you are to remain then you must attend our own evening!”
The speaker belonged to the Prussian embassy; Dick nodded vigorously in the background.
“I should be honoured to do so, sir.”
The Prussian bowed, to Dick first, as was only proper, and introduced himself as Herr Hartmann, a Second Secretary.<
br />
“It is a rare pleasure to listen to Brahms in America, ma’am. Even rarer to hear him played with such sympathy!”
“Herr Brahms is certainly the leader of the moderns, sir. In common with Herr Beethoven, he must be studied before one dares play him, but he is so very rewarding when one gives him the effort he deserves!”
“I agree wholeheartedly, ma’am. I wish only that I had the ability to do him justice myself, but I am the merest tyro, I fear. Playing to accompany drinking songs in the Mess is my limit!”
Dick grinned and commented that he was therefore far more skilled than most junior officers.
“Regrettably true, Herr Major. Musical skills are not highly valued among the younger officers. They would argue that martial ability is more important, as I believe you may testify, sir. That is the Medal of Honour I see, is it not?”
“It is, sir, primarily earned because I skipped off in the wrong direction at Bull Run and ended up as one of the few to remain on the field.”
Hartmann laughed appreciatively; he had studied the battle and been contemptuous of the military skills displayed by both sides.
“The confusion of war, sir! I have read of it but have yet to experience the reality.”
“One understands it is not impossible that it will come soon, Herr Hartmann. I am told that the affairs of Northern Europe are in an interesting tangle just now; a Gordian Knot, in fact.”
“And the Gordian Knot was cut with a sword, sir! An enlightening comparison. Will you wish to observe in Europe, perhaps?”
“It is not impossible, but, of course, I serve two masters. I have the honour to hold a commission in the British Army as well as my temporary rank in America. I am to return to England in the near future and will then be at the disposal of my seniors there.”
Hartmann knew that Dick was English rather than American by nationality. Washington was in many ways a small town and he had been briefed on the whole guest list for the evening. He had not been aware that Dick held an English commission as well, was immediately cautious – there was a whiff of Military Intelligence in all of this.
An Uncertain Peace (The Making of a Man Series, Book 3) Page 13
