“Keep on like directly you doin’. Then after you pass a copse of cottonwoods, you keep an eye out for their tents. Off over to the right a tad. Can’t miss ’em.”
Benjamin touched the brim of his hat again and rode on. About a quarter of a mile down the road and past the cottonwood trees. There were the tents all right, neat rows of them stretching across the field. In front of the larger company tent there were two flagstaffs as well. One flying the stars and stripes — the other the stars and bars. The country was reunited right enough, but still seemed to be unable to come to a decision about the symbols of the past.
The soldier on guard turned him over to the officer of the day who managed a salute when he heard Judah P. Benjamin’s name.
“Mighty proud to make your acquaintance, suh. A’hm sure that General Bragg will be delighted to speak with you.”
Delighted or no, Bragg invited him into his tent. He was a large man, his skin burnt brown like most Texicans. After he climbed to his feet he extended his hand. He had his boots on, as well as his uniform trousers, but wore only a long-sleeved red undershirt above that. He did not take off his wide-brimmed hat when he sat down again.
“Join me with some fresh-brewed coffee, Mr. Benjamin, and tell me how things are going in Washington City these days.”
“Good, about just as good as might be expected. Southern people are coming back now, and it is a far livelier place than it was just after the war. There are parties and soirees and suchlike, something going on all the time. Very exciting if you like that kind of thing.”
“We all like that sort of thing, as I am sure you will agree.”
“I do indeed. If you have the time would you consider attending one of these affairs? I am having an open house this very week. Mostly politicians of course. But I would dearly love to have some military officers there to remind them that the army saved this nation — not their speeches.”
“You are kind indeed — and I am much obliged. I shall come and be most military at all times. And while I am in the city I would like to see for myself what damage was done by that British raid.”
“Very little to see now. The Capitol is being repaired where the British burnt it, and there are almost no signs left of their invasion.”
They made small talk for a bit in a relaxed Southern manner. Benjamin was half finished with his coffee before he approached his subject in an oblique way.
“You and your troops settled in nicely here?”
“Happy as a June bug in a flower patch. Getting a little restless, maybe. Some talk about how they signed on to fight, not sit on their backsides.”
“Ahh, that’s fine… fine. How long are they enrolled for?”
“Most of them got about six months to go. With the war ended they kind of yearnin’ to see Texas again. That’s something I can understand myself.”
“Understandable, surely. But there is something that they could do. I wonder then if your men, and you, would be interested in rendering a further service to your country.”
“Fighting?” General Bragg asked, a sudden coolness in his voice. “I thought that the war was over.”
“It is, of course it is. But there is now the matter of seeing that it stays that way. That we keep the peace. You know about the Freedmen’s Bureau?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“It’s a bureau that helps the former slaves. Pays their owners for their freedom. Then sort of guides them along in their new lives. Helps them getting jobs, getting land for farming, that sort of thing.”
“Seems a good idea, I suppose. I guess that you have to do something with them.”
“I am glad to hear that because, as you can readily imagine, there are some people that don’t agree with this work. People who don’t believe that the Negroes should be educated.”
“Well, I can truthfully say that I am of two minds about that myself. Not that I ever owned any slaves, mind you. But they might get above themselves, you see.”
Benjamin took his kerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. The sun was beating down on the tent and it was getting hot. “Well, it is the law, you might say. But unhappily there are some people who put themselves above the law. The slaves are free, their former owners have been paid for their freedom, so that should be that.”
“But it isn’t,” General Bragg said. “I can understand that. A man spends his life looking at the colored as a piece of property, why he’s not going to change his thinking just because he got paid some money. You can’t change the way things work overnight, that’s for certain.”
“There is much truth in what you say. But the law is still the law and it must be obeyed. In any case, there have been some threats of violence, while some of the Freedmen’s Bureaus have been burned. We don’t want the situation to get any worse. So we want to assign soldiers to the Freedmen’s Bureau to make sure that the peace in the South is kept. Which is why I am here to talk to you, to ask you to aid me in keeping the peace.”
“Isn’t that the work of the local lawmen?”
“It should be — but many times they don’t want to cooperate.”
“Don’t blame them.”
“Yes, neither do I, but it is still the law. Now you know, and I know, that the one thing we cannot do is to have any soldiers from the North come down here to do this kind of work. Keeping the peace.”
The general snorted loudly and called for more coffee, cocked his head and looked at Benjamin. “That sure would start the war all over again, I reckon. Start it even faster if you used black Yankee troops.”
“But we could use Southern soldiers. Texas soldiers by choice. The men of your brigade fought hard and well for the South and no man will doubt your loyalty. But there are few slaves in your state, even fewer cotton plantations. My hope is that Texicans would be more, say, even-handed in the application of the law. And certainly none in the South would fault their presence.”
“Yes, it’s a thought. But I can envisage a lot of problems coming up, a passel of problems. I think that I’ll have to talk to my officers about this first before I make any decisions. Maybe even speak to the men.”
“Of course. The men cannot be assigned against their will. And when you talk to them, please tell them that, in addition to their army pay, there will be separate payments from the Bureau. These men will be going home soon and I know they will surely like to take back as many silver dollars as they can.”
“Now that is an argument that makes powerful sense.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, General. Will it be all right if I send you a telegram tomorrow to find out about your decision?”
“You do that. Should know something by then.”
Judah Benjamin was buoyed by hope as he rode back to the capital. The road to peace and Negro freedom was proving not to be a very smooth one.
Jefferson Davis was very much of the same mind. The end of the War Between the States, the end to all the killing, had been a noble effort that had come through in the end. The killing had been stopped, that at least had been done, but it had been replaced by what was, in the least, becoming an uneasy peace. He must do something about it.
His wound had healed well, though he had little strength in his left arm; the surgeon had cut away muscle and tissue to get the pistol ball, and cloth, out of his wound. But the fever was a thing of the past now and his strength grew daily. Nevertheless the train trip to Arlington had been tiring. But Robert E. Lee had met him at the station himself, driving the buggy. The United States Government, which had seized Lee’s home because of unpaid taxes, had returned it to its rightful owner, slightly the worse for wear, at the war’s end. It had now been restored to its original condition.
Jefferson Davis had passed a restful three days before he felt up to riding again. Always a keen equestrian, the thing that he had missed most was his daily ride. Now that he could sit a horse again he felt stronger with every passing day. His hosts seemed pleased to see his health improving daily and he was aware of this fact. But he also did not want to wear out his welcome. Finally he was strong enough, he was sure, to ride from Arlington to the White House. He looked up from his breakfast as Lee came in.