His One Woman by Paula Marshall Page A

dignity gone, and called out, ‘What is it? What is it?’
    A large black man, his face alight, stopped in order to answer him.
    â€˜It’s the day of Jubilo, sah,’ he cried. ‘Sumter has fallen, they say, and the war for freedom has begun.’
    The Senator lowered the window, pulled back the curtain and turned into the room. His face was grave, his manner heavy.
    â€˜It is as I thought,’ he said sombrely. ‘Like Caesar of old, the South has crossed the Rubicon: the worst of all wars is upon us and brother will fight brother. Not even President Lincoln can hold it off much longer, however much he wishes to avoid the final conflict.’
    The noise outside grew ever louder, and the sound of cheering grew and grew.
    â€˜They are cheering now,’ said Alan. He was nearly as heavy as the Senator, and was showing his years and the gravitas which lay behind his normal, easy manner. ‘I fear that they will weep before it ends. I wonder how many men will lie dead on the battleground between now and peace.’
    There was silence in the room where a moment ago there had been pleasure: the earlier, happier mood of the evening had disappeared. Alan rose. ‘I do not like to leave so early,’ he said, ‘but I must visit the Envoy immediately. Late though it is, I must be instructed by him on these developments before I leave Washington. You will excuse me, sir, I am sure.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ said the Senator. ‘You have your duty, sir, as I have mine. Do you also leave for England, Mr Stanton?’
    â€˜Not with my master, Alan,’ said Charles. ‘Myway lies South. You understand, sir, that Britain will remain neutral and it is important that one of us goes there. Because of my interest and because Mr Dilhorne must report back home as soon as possible I shall remain behind. I will, with your permission, pay my respects to you again before I leave Washington.’
    â€˜You are always welcome here,’ replied the Senator. He held out his hand to Alan. ‘It has been a pleasure to meet you and Mr Stanton, sir. I shall think differently about English gentlemen now that I have met the pair of you.’
    Before they left Jack found a moment to say a private goodbye to Marietta and to renew his invitation to her for a drive to the Potomac with him. War or no war, life would go on, and he intended to live it to the full.
    War had been officially declared before Jack found time to drive Marietta and Aunt Percival to the Great American Falls on the Potomac. It was not quite the peaceful trip into a rural paradise which Marietta had imagined it would be. Driving along, they found that tents were already being pitched and preparations were being made all along the route in order to provide an improvised garrison for the troops who would shortly be arriving in Washington.
    â€˜The President has already asked for nearly half a million men to be recruited into the Army,’ the Senator had told Ezra Butler and Jack when he arrived at Butler’s office to invite him and Jack to meet yetanother government committee in order to give it the benefit of their advice.
    He sighed heavily. ‘He does not think that it will be difficult to find them. The Army already has recruiting officers meeting the immigrant ships when they berth in Baltimore and the other East Coast ports. They are barely off the boat before they are persuaded into the Army. New Americans will fight old ones to the death, I fear.’
    â€˜True,’ Jack said, ‘the North will not be short of private soldiers, but Ezra has just been telling me that the majority of West Point officers who trained in the pre-war army have gone to join the South, which must be a great advantage for them.’
    The Senator nodded. ‘True, but however great their generals—and Robert E. Lee is a great general—or their officers, they cannot match our numbers or our industrial might. They have few