General Meagher’s quiet voice was in great contrast to Butt’s impassioned plea, and the more damning because of that.

“And there is worse. We have had reports now of kidnapping and imprisonment in the city of Liverpool. We do not know the details — other than that something terrible is happening there. As you must know, there are many Irish resident in the Midlands, hardworking people who have been many years resident there. But now it appears that the British question their loyalty. In the name of security, entire families have been rounded up and taken away by armed guards. And the worst part is that we cannot find what has happened to them. It is as though they have vanished into the night. We have heard rumors about camps of some kind, but we can discover nothing factual. I do not deny that we have had agents among the Liverpool Irish, but that certainly cannot justify the arrest and detainment of innocent people. This is a matter of guilt by association. Are the women and the children guilty as well? They are treated as such. And we have unconfirmed reports that other camps are being built across the breadth of England. Are these for the Irish, too? I can only say, Mr. President, that this is a monumental crime against humanity.”

“If what you say is true — and I have no reason to doubt you in the slightest — then I must agree with you,” Lincoln said wearily as he found the couch and seated himself once again upon it. “But, gentlemen — what can we do about it? The American government can protest these crimes strongly — as indeed we have done in the past and shall do in the future. But beyond that — what can be done? I am afraid that I can read the British response already. This is only a civil matter, an internal one, of no concern to other nations.” In the grim silence that followed, Lincoln turned to Meagher. “You, as a military officer, must recognize that this is not a situation that can be resolved by the military. Our hands are tied; there is nothing that can be done.”