Read 1862 for Free Online Page B

“Let’s say the food was adequate, General, but still superior to the wine.”
    Scott shook his head sadly. “It’s a long way from France to here, and wines do not always travel well. A pity we don’t make any of our own that compares. Of course, I would not have expected the French to present their finest for uncouth Americans to guzzle.”
    Nathan sat down across from Scott. “Has anyone ever compared you to Falstaff, General?”
    Scott glowered at him. “I know my Shakespeare. Falstaff was a fool, and I am not a fool. Enough small talk; tell me what transpired. Did you get the message to John Hay?”
    Nathan had gotten to the salon a little past the appointed time. John Hay had already arrived and was surrounded by people who wished to use him to gain influence with President Lincoln.
    “I had to wait until he was alone. Then I gave him the envelope and told him it was a confidential message from you to Mr. Lincoln. He looked surprised, but recovered quickly and put it in an inside coat pocket. I must say I was impressed by Hay. He seemed very poised and confident. He just continued our polite conversation as if nothing had happened.”
    “Then what?”
    “Then I mingled and socialized.”
    “Anyone important there?”
    “Aside from some congressmen, only Generals Meigs and McDowell.” Meigs was the army’s quartermaster general, while McDowell, the loser at Bull Run, was in charge of the defenses of Washington. “Neither man stayed long. Poor McDowell looked like a whipped dog.”
    “Nobody likes McDowell because McDowell likes nobody,” Scott said. “All the man likes to do is eat. I consider myself a gourmet. He is a glutton. It’s amazing he doesn’t weigh as much as I do. General Meigs is an unpleasant man as well, but honest and capable.”
    For the rest of the evening, Nathan had concentrated on socializing and enjoying himself. “I had a pleasant conversation with our host and hostess, the D’Estaings. Madame D’Estaing is quite charming and attractive. I had the distinct feeling she was quite a liberal woman.”
    “That would be putting it mildly,” Scott said wryly. “She is at the center of many rumors. If only half are true, she leads a very interesting life. Her husband, Henri, has parlayed a distant relationship to the French general who succored us during our revolution into a position of a buyer for France.”
    “What does he buy?”
    “Congressmen,” Scott answered. “Henri D’Estaing may look like a plump little piece of pastry, but he is quite efficient at what he does. France has designs on Mexico, and it is in their interest to keep us from protesting their involvement too vehemently.”
    Interesting, Nathan thought. “Valerie, I mean Madame D’Estaing, was with an American woman who was dressed in black, a Mrs. Devon. I presume she is a widow.”
    Scott thought for a moment. “She is Mrs. Rebecca Devon. Her husband was an administrator in the War Department until he marched off to save his nation and was killed at Bull Run. I had met both of them. She’s a very pleasant and intelligent woman, and reasonably attractive if you like them that thin and can ignore that scar on her neck that she tries to conceal. She was very much pro abolition and in favor of war to stop secession and free the slaves. Sadly, like so many other people, her wishes came true and contained within them the seeds of tragedy.”
    “And her late husband?” Nathan asked, curiously.
    “Never speak ill of the dead. Before the battle there were rumors of corruption. He was a crony of Cameron’s and heartily disliked by Meigs.”
    Nathan had thought Mrs. Devon to be almost gaunt, not thin. However, the sudden loss of her husband might have contributed to that state. He hadn’t noticed any scar, but she had been wearing a high-necked dress. “Mrs. Devon struck me as being almost puritanical in comparison with Madame D’Estaing, yet they seemed to be friends. It struck me as a strange