INT. THE TELEGRAPH OFFICE, WAR DEPARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

The telegraph office looks improvised, even after four years. Formerly the War Department library, it's lined with bookcases stuffed with bundled dispatches. Telegraph cables stretch across the ceiling to the cipher-operators' desks.

Stanton, perpetually exhausted and impatient, storms down the stairs with Welles and the chief telegraph operator, MAJOR THOMAS ECKERT, 40, in his wake.

           STANTON

They cannot possibly maintain under this kind of an assault. Terry's got ten thousand men surrounding the Goddamned fort! Why doesn't he answer my cables?

WELLES MAJOR ECKERT Fort Fisher is a mountain of It's the largest fort they a building, Edwin. Twenty-two have, sir. They've been big seacoast guns on each reinforcing it for the last rampart - two years -

They reach the desks for the key operators. Among these, SAMUEL BECKWITH, 25, and the key manager, DAVID HOMER BATES, 22, sit at their silent keys, waiting to receive news. Stanton scribbles furiously on Beckwith's small notepad.

           STANTON (CONT'D)

They've taken 17,000 shells since yesterday!

           WELLES STANTON

The commander is an old goat. I want to hear that Fort Fisher's ours and Wilmington MAJOR ECKERT has fallen! They said -

           STANTON (CONT'D)

Send another damn cable!

Stanton thrusts the cable at Beckwith, who taps it out immediately.

Stanton turns to a table where the large map of Wilmington from the Cabinet meeting is laid out, heavily scribbled-on. GUSTAVUS FOX, assistant Secretary of the Navy, and CHARLES BENJAMIN, Stanton's clerk, are checking the marks on the map against a stack of dispatches.

           STANTON (CONT'D)

The problem's their commander, Whiting. He engineered the fortress himself. The damned thing's his child; he'll defend it till his every last man is gone. He is not thinking rationally, he's -

LINCOLN (O.C.) (hollering!) "Come on out, you old rat!"

Everyone's startled, and confused. They all turn to Lincoln, who sits in Major Eckert's chair, wrapped in his shawl.

           LINCOLN (CONT'D)

That's what Ethan Allen called to the commander of Fort Ticonderoga in 1776. "Come on out, you old rat!" `Course there were only forty- odd redcoats at Ticonderoga. But, but there is one Ethan Allen story that I'm very partial to -

           STANTON

No! No, you're, you're going to tell a story! I don't believe that I can bear to listen to another one of your stories right now!

Stanton stalks out, shouting down the corridor as he goes:

           STANTON (CONT'D)

I need the B&O sideyard schedules for Alexandria! I asked for them this morning!

Lincoln pays no attention to Stanton's fulminations and continues with his story.

           LINCOLN

It was right after the Revolution, right after peace had been concluded, and Ethan Allen went to London to help our new country conduct its business with the king. The English sneered at how rough we are, and rude and simple-minded and on like that, everywhere he went, till one day he was invited to the townhouse of a great English lord. Dinner was served, beverages imbibed, time passed, as happens, and Mr. Allen found he needed the

privy. He was grateful to be directed thence - relieved you might say.

Everyone laughs.

           LINCOLN (CONT'D)

Now, Mr. Allen discovered on entering the water closet that the only decoration therein was a portrait of George Washington. Ethan Allen done what he came to do and returned to the drawing room. His host and the others were disappointed when he didn't mention Washington's portrait. And finally His Lordship couldn't resist, and asked Mr. Allen had he noticed it, the picture of Washington. He had. Well, what did he think of its placement, did it seem appropriately located to Mr. Allen? Mr. Allen said it did. His host was astounded! Appropriate? George Washington's likeness in a water closet? Yes, said Mr. Allen, where it'll do good service: the whole world knows nothing'll make an Englishman shit quicker than the sight of George Washington.

Everyone laughs.

           LINCOLN (CONT'D)

I love that story.

Beckwith's and Bates's keys starts clicking. They transcribe furiously.

There's a general rush to the operators' desks. Lincoln walks quickly over, and is joined there by Stanton, who arrives just as the first dispatch has been completed and is being decoded. Stanton and Lincoln hold hands, as they've done many times, waiting for news of the battle.

Bates hands the decoded cable to Benjamin, who reads it quickly, then announces to the room:

           CHARLES BENJAMIN

Fort Fisher is ours. We've taken the port.

           WELLES

And Wilmington?

Eckert shakes his head as Beckwith hands him the next telegram.

           MAJOR ECKERT

We've taken the fort, but the city of Wilmington has not surrendered.

A beat as this sinks in. Then:

           STANTON

How many casualties?

Eckert looks up at Stanton and Lincoln, stricken.