The White House
President Lincoln sat at his desk rubbing his temples, fighting off another headache. They plagued him daily now, but he"d learned to ignore the pain. Today wasn"t as bad as usual, just a prickly throb, so he was enjoying a rare moment of peaceful solitude. Constantly mobbed by cabinet members, advisors, secretaries, hangers-on, and his wife"s persistent tantrums, he couldn"t even use the privy without having an urgent telegraph message thrust at him.
He knew he wouldn"t be alone for long. In about two minutes, he was expecting Brigadier General H. Judson Kilpatrick, formerly of the Second New York Cavalry. He planned to give Kilpatrick some orders, which, if carried out successfully, would end the war. The orders, written at three this morning on a piece of paper now in
