Lincoln looked up from the spra
wled papers on his desk when Edward Bates came in.
“I would like a moment of your time,” Lincoln said. “I must give my State of the Union address to Congress tomorrow. That the State is perilous they must know, but I must extend some hope for the future. May I read you some of what I plan to say to them and seek your opinion?”
“A responsibility that I willingly accept.”
The President coughed lightly, then began.
“ ‘The Union must be preserved, and hence, all indispensable means must be employed. We should not be in haste to determine that radical and extreme measures, which may reach the loyal as well as the disloyal, are indispensable. To continue and to fight this war the raising of funds is as inevitable as it is necessary.” Lincoln looked up and Bates nodded.
“I agree. Taxes, I imagine. To fund this war they must be raised yet again. And more men must be raised for the army. Despite the draft rioting among the Irish immigrants in New York you must press on.”
“I appreciate your endorsement. I must also dwell some on popular institutions for we must be always aware of the reasons we are fighting this war.” The President turned to the next page. “ ‘Labor is prior to, and independent of, capital. Capital is only the fruit of Labor, and would never have existed if Labor had not first existed. But Capital has its rights, which are as worthy of protection as any other rights.’ ”
Bates, a shrewd politician himself, knew that all sides must be pacified. The workers, who gave their labor and their bodies to the war effort, certainly must have these efforts acknowledged. But, at the same time, businessmen must not feel that they were bearing the sole burden of taxes for the war effort. But when Lincoln read on about the Negro problem he shook his head in disagreement and interrupted.
“You know my feelings on this matter, Mr. President. I see the Colonization of free Negroes as a very remote possibility.”
“You shouldn’t. A location could be found, perhaps in the Americas to the south, where an independent colony could be founded. With the Negroes removed from the equation there would be no reason left to continue the war.”
“But I have talked to free Negroes here in the North and they think this ill-advised. They consider themselves as American as we do and feel no desire to depart to some distant shore. When you met the delegation of free Negroes it is my understanding that they told you the same thing.”
Before Lincoln could respond Nicolay knocked and entered.
“Sorry to interrupt, but General Ramsay has arrived. You asked to meet with him as soon as possible. He is waiting outside.”
“Fine. As soon as we are finished here have him sent in.” He turned to the Attorney General. “We must discuss this in greater detail later. I am firm in my resolve that this is a real solution to our problems.”
“I find this difficult to say, Mr. President. But in this matter I think that you are alone. Perhaps it would be a good idea to found these colonies — but who would go there? The Negroes will not volunteer, there seems to be complete agreement upon that. But can we ship them there in shackles? That would be equal, or worse, than the slave trade that brought them to this country in the first place. I ask you to reconsider this matter, with deepest respect, consider it in all its aspects.”
When Bates had gone out Ramsay was ushered in. The general was an impressive man, tall and erect. However he wore a simple blue uniform with none of the braid and decorations that the other staff officers seemed to prefer. He was an engineer and technician and it was obvious that he thought more of that, and the war, than he did of a glittering uniform. He stood at attention and only sat down when Lincoln waved him to a chair.
“This accident of Ripley’s is a tragic thing, General, most tragic.”
Ramsay nodded and thought a moment before he spoke. He was a man of firm decisions but never of hasty ones. “He was a good officer, Mr. President, and a brave fighting soldier as well. This is not the way he would have chosen to go.”
“I am sure not. Is there any more news of his condition?”
“Only that he is weakening and cannot breathe well. The doctors do not give him too much time.”
“I am most sorry to hear that. Yet despite our casualties the war must go on. And General Ripley’s most vital work must continue to be done. You have been aide to the general for some time?”
“I have.”
“Then there is nothing I can tell you about the importance of the Bureau of Ordnance, nor how vital to our country it is?”
“Nothing, Mr. President. We both know that the war could not be fought without a constant flow of weaponry and ammunition. We are better supplied than the enemy at all times and that must never change if we are to have victory.”
Lincoln nodded solemnly. “May it always be thus. Now I have been consulting with my Cabinet about this matter. Secretary of War Cameron speaks very highly of you. He feels you are ideally suited to head the Bureau of Ordnance. What do you think?”
“I know that I can do the work, sir. But before any appointment is approved I think you must know that General Ripley and I did not see eye-to-eye on a number of things. Most importantly we differed completely on at least one matter of some gravity. When I was his subordinate I was honor bound not to mention this. But I feel I must do so now. I do not speak in anger or envy. I feel that I was a good and loyal lieutenant to the general. While he was alive I never considered speaking aloud of our differences. But everything is changed now. If I am to occupy this position I must make the changes that I believe in.”
“I admire your honesty in coming forward with this. What was this major bone of contention?”
For long seconds the officer looked discomfited. Looking first at the floor, then out of the window. Then he sat even more erect and sterned himself to speak.
“The general was a firm believer in the virtues of standard muzzle-loading rifles. They are proven and reliable and with proper training can deliver a good rate of fire.”