She pulled an envelope from her pocket and handed it to him. “This is for you.”
Surprised, he opened it. Inside were the insignia of a colonel in the U.S. Army. “They belong to my father,” she explained. “He wore them against Spain, although he never left the city.” She laughed, and he saw she did have nice teeth and a pleasant smile. “You said last night how quickly you’d been rushed here, and I thought you might find these useful when it comes time to show your true colors.”
He stammered his thanks.
“So, sir, now that the army’s here and in full control, what are your plans for disarming the Germans and driving them off? I wish to tell Mr. Hearst.”
Damn, was she making fun of him? Her mouth was set again but her eyes were laughing. He drew himself to his full height and stood at attention. “Miss Schuyler, I intend to rent a small boat, paddle over, and inform them that they must leave or pay the consequences. The American army shall not be trifled with.
“Seriously, my plans are to go to the waterfront and observe what I can. I will be leaving shortly and, with your permission, hope to return early this afternoon. I already used your telephone to contact my superiors in Washington.”
“Is that safe? Using the phone, I mean. Couldn’t an operator overhear you?”
“Yes, but it’s a chance we have to take. There were some precautions to at least forestall that. For instance, the number I call is answered as the Windsor Hotel, even though it goes directly to the White House war room.”
That struck both of them as just a little funny under the circumstances. Katrina, however, became serious very quickly. “When you go observing, I will go with you.” When he started to protest, she waved him silent. “Please note that I am not asking your permission, Colonel, I am telling you what I will do. We will take my carriage, and two of my servants, armed, for additional protection. Believe me, sir, it is very important that I see what is actually happening. My family has been in this town, in this area, for many, many generations. I feel so angry that I will not be deterred.”
Patrick resigned himself to her company and, shortly, they began moving down streets that paralleled the East River. He was gratified to see that the hysteria of the preceding day had subsided and that the crowds, although excited, were not in a state of panic. It was also, he realized, far too early in the day for them to be liquored up.
A number of armed men in uniform, obviously local militia, had taken control of the streets and were enforcing order. A couple of quick conversations between Katrina and officers whom she appeared to know told them both that at least three regiments were bivouacking in Central Park and were trying to anticipate the Germans’ next move. One young officer also added that many heavy wagons were being assembled and, once loaded, would be sent under the heaviest possible guard to the ferries and across to safety in New Jersey. Their contents would be the money and bullion from the banks as well as the stocks and other valuables necessary to keep America’s financial world operating.
The officer was not thrilled at the prospect. “I’m afraid the same people who’ve done so much looting will realize what’s in the wagons, and a mob will try to overwhelm them.” He shook his head. “Even though the governor has ordered at least one regiment to guard the wagons, I’m afraid there will be fighting and rioting before we get them to safety. A lot of people could be killed.”
Patrick agreed. “But we can’t leave all this for the Germans to take if they come across or decide to seal off the island, can we?” responded Patrick, who was appalled that a junior officer knew of the plans and was so blithely informing people of them. There was no secrecy.
“No, we can’t, mister. Lord, what a mess.” With that, he excused himself and let Patrick and Katrina continue on.
The first point of note was, of course, the Brooklyn Bridge, which connected Manhattan to the very place where the Germans were landing. The Manhattan side was barricaded by a miscellany of carriages, carts, barrels, and anything else that could be put in place quickly. What appeared to be several hundred policemen were augmented by a horde of civilians and others in militia and National Guard uniforms. There were even several old men in what could only have been Civil War uniforms. Patrick again was glad he hadn’t worn his own uniform. Despite that, there were a number of hollered requests for him and Katrina’s two servants to join the defenders. He lied easily, saying they’d be back later when they returned the lady to safety. For her part, Katrina smiled demurely and they drove on.
Pathetic, Patrick thought, that a few hundred unarmed or half-armed and undisciplined men could even think of halting the German army should it decide to cross the bridge. They’d be brushed aside in minutes and the lucky ones merely humiliated.
Finally they reached a point near decrepit old Battery Park, near the stinking and immigrant-filled slums of the Lower East Side where they had a good view of the harbor. Before them lay the vast panorama of invasion. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other New Yorkers gathered to watch, mainly in silence. Stretched to the horizon were scores of freighters and ocean liners waiting to disembark their cargo, human and materiel, at the Brooklyn docks. Protecting and screening them were at least a dozen large warships, which, thank God, appeared to be unconcerned about the crowds of spectators watching the show.
After a while, Patrick, Katrina, and the two servants went to the roof of a building and observed further. Using field glasses, Patrick could easily see the lines of gray-clad soldiers leaving the ships and marching inland. It was a precise and awesome performance. On a nearby rooftop, he noticed two men with what he recognized as a movie camera, probably from Mr. Edison’s Biograph Laboratory in New Jersey. He wondered what they would do with the pictures, where they would show them. After observing for a while, Patrick suggested they leave. Saddened and silent, they returned to the Schuyler home.
Once there, he excused himself to use the telephone and, to his surprise, had little trouble getting through to the “Windsor Hotel” for his report.
A moment after he disconnected, Katrina tapped on the door, entered, and took a seat on a luxurious couch. Yesterday’s look of anguish had returned, and she appeared to have been crying. “What now, Colonel?”
“I’m going north and east across the Hudson before Manhattan is cut off.” Patrick shrugged and smiled wanly. “I wouldn’t be able to do much observing as a prisoner, would I?”
She paled. “You think that will happen?”
He explained to her calmly that cutting off Manhattan was very likely, that indeed it was the only logical thing for the Germans to do. They had, he estimated, landed the better part of an entire division and appeared to be picking up the pace. They could land about five to six thousand men a day, with their heavy equipment taking a little longer.
He told her to visualize the area. Manhattan, as so many seem to forget, is indeed an island, even though the Harlem River to the north is not much of a barrier to traffic or commerce and is crossed at a number of points. However, a military force could turn it into an extremely effective moat. Thus, he explained further, the Germans would likely head north and off Long Island, which would logically carry them along the Harlem River, thereby severing Manhattan from the rest of the world. The city would then be under siege and easily invested. Sieges, he told her, were grim and cruel events. He quickly recounted the horrors of the siege of Paris by the Germans in 1871 and, of course, Vicksburg and Petersburg in the Civil War. As sieges inevitably wore on, the besieged were always confronted by disease, starvation, and the likelihood of sudden and violent death. Death, he told her, was often preferable to being wounded in such an environment.
“I’ve only read about sieges, I’ve never actually seen one. And, Miss Schuyler, I don’t ever wish to. What I’ve read of them is enough. Starvation and disease are the rule, not the exception.”
“The Germans would do this?”
“They really have no choice. They came here for a purpose, and that purpose is not to sit on Long Island and be trapped there by an American army. No, they will move off to the interior as soon as they are strong enough. It would not surprise me at all if advance units have already taken some of the crossing points. Therefore, I must get out of here as quickly as possible.” He looked at an ornate bronze clock on the mantle and automatically wondered how much it cost. More importantly, it told him it was just after noon. He would have thought it much later. “With regrets, I will leave very soon.”