Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [30]
“Now, Captain, what’s on your mind?”
Hancock sat in a wooden chair, saw reflected sunlight in a rich mahogany glare, did not put his hands on the desk.
“We had a demonstration today, in front of my home. It was as you had described: men dressed as Spanish soldiers, formal uniforms, riding by and staring.”
“Hmmm, so. It’s been coming. A lot of talk. Anything happen, any problem?”
“No, they didn’t approach the house, just rode by, then took off.”
“That’s the way it works. The key is, what happens next.”
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Captain, have you seen Hamilton’s newspaper this week? The Star?”
“No, missed it.”
“That damned idiot. He’s filling his paper with all kinds of stories about what’s happening back East, the election and all. I know him, he thinks he’s fair, I suppose. But he’s the only news these people have about Washington. I get letters, some correspondence from Delaware, friends in New York, a great deal of commotion about the election, none of it too positive, but then I read about the same events in Hamilton’s ‘news’ and I see his slant, his opinions coming through. And that, Captain, is where your trouble might come from.”
“About the election? What kind of trouble?”
“This fellow Lincoln, this Republican . . . he’s got a strong following in the North. Too strong, probably. The Democrats are splitting up, fighting it out with each other. From what I can gather, the Southern cause is hurting itself. But when you read Hamilton, you see Lincoln as the devil himself, and the election as a vote to preserve the American way of life. That kind of rhetoric talks to people’s passions, not their good sense. You a Democrat, Captain?”
“Yes, I suppose I am. My father had pretty strong views on politics, can’t say I ever disagreed with him much, but most soldiers I know are Democrats. What is so dangerous? It’s just an election.”
“There’s more and more talk that if Lincoln wins, the country could divide up, fall apart altogether. The slavery business, the government sticking itself into the affairs of the states, there’s a good many people who see Lincoln as the man who will destroy the country. And you’ve got loose cannons like Hamilton throwing this stuff out at people like it’s the word of God. Around here we’re pretty far removed from what the government says, Captain. Things like ‘law’ and ‘Union’ don’t mean much to people who don’t even speak your language. Sounds pretty scary to me, Captain.”
“And, the Spanish . . .” Hancock paused, began to understand.
“The Spanish, the Mexicans, are sitting back, taking it all in. I tell you, Captain, if the country splits apart, there’s talk, right outside this damned window, these boys don’t think I know what they’re saying. . . . They’re waiting for the day, because the bet is they can walk right in and grab California away from the army. Hell, they already know there’s American soldiers who are talking about quitting, going home to their states. You scared yet, Captain?”
He looked past Banning, out the wide window. He had heard some talk, most of it coming from San Francisco, from Benicia, the angry talk of politics. He had never been too political, had supported the Democrats because it was what his father had done. He felt there was some logic in their issues, the right of the states to determine their own course. But . . . the collapse of the Union? It seemed too far beyond reason, too irrational to be taken seriously.
“You expecting any help here, Captain, any troops?”
“I haven’t asked for any. There has never been any trouble.” He realized now he sounded naive, that the demonstration in front of his house could be far more serious than he wanted to admit.
“The local boys might need some discouraging, Captain, so keep the lid on. If they start feeling their strength, thinking they can push the army a little harder, they will.”
Hancock began to think, his mind seemed