After the unopposed landings, Confederate field artillery guns inland from the shore began firing into the Union troops with shell, canister and langrage. Canister was a collection of lead balls held together in a canvas sack until the bag reached the end of the cannon’s muzzle. The bag then broke and the balls spread. Langrage was much the same thing, except that the bag was filled with nails, bolts and anything else found on the ammunition factory floor. This kind of ammunition made the cannons the equivalent of giant shot-guns that blew wide holes in the ranks as an attacking force approached. The artillery nearly always broke the infantry into disordered groups that could not bring their strength to a focus.
To make the situation worse from the Union point of view, Confederate infantry emerged from hidden dugouts to charge with fixed bayonets soldiers struggling in soft sand.
Devereux judged that the landing force would never reach the interior of what maps showed to be a sandy island a quarter of a mile wide. He was trying to decide how he felt about that when a large shell from a “Columbiad” gun on shore burst aft and above the stern of “Malvern.”
The time fuse shell exploded a hundred feet in the air. Death and injury showered down on that part of the ship. The sound of men desperately hurt keened across the ship like the banshee’s song. This inhuman warning of danger invaded men’s minds and blotted out all else.
Quick’s torn, violated body lay on the teak deck among strangers, men he had never known and would never know. The shell had flung pieces of its casing onto the deck with great energy.
US Seamen
There were several wounded rolling about in blood. One sailor screamed and clutched his intestines in red hands while trying to push them back into his belly. The ship’s surgeon and his mates tried to hold his hands away so that they could get him on a stretcher.
Quick’s head was smashed, broken by a shell fragment still embedded in the bone.
Claude stood over what had been his friend and remembered. He remembered the Irish dockside laborer who joined the 17th Virginia Infantry Regiment in 1861, a man recently come from the old country, a giant who drank too much who fought hard and who had found a home in the teeming little port of Alexandria, Virginia. Claude had been his company commander until the Confederate government sent him north to be a spy. For the last two years they had been infiltrators together among the Northern people. Now Yankees lifted John Quick and placed him on a litter to take below where the sight would not further distress the ship’s company.
I will take him home. I will take him to Alexandria. There is a place in Saint Mary’s cemetery for him. He will lie with his comrades… Devereux went below with the sailors carrying the body. The bodies all went into a large ice-box filled with supplies that sustained the crew. Claude watched the surgeon’s mates as they marked the canvas shroud with Quick’s name.
Devereux went aft to his cabin.
Major General Ben Butler soon decided that his men ashore could not seize Fort Fisher. He ordered their re-embarkation. He left the fleet before dusk in a fast steam vessel to return to Norfolk. Devereux was notified of his impending departure and demanded transportation. He needed to return to Washington to report and to take Quick to his grave. On board the dispatch boat, Butler remarked that he expected Devereux to seek to have him removed. In response, Claude bowed slightly and remarked on Butler’s insight.
He sat beside the canvas wrapped cadaver throughout the passage, a clan leader mourning the fall of a tribal follower.
After some hours, a sailor brought him a chair. He was impressed with an officer who cared for someone far beneath him in the hierarchy of war.
The war had been a personal and immediate struggle for Claude. The magnetic effect he had on people, and expressly on soldiers had its origins in his inner nature. In truth he cared little for causes or countries. He disliked the Yankees and what he thought to be their crass commercialism and hypocrisy but that is not why he fought them. What mattered to him was the war itself and those who followed him. He was a relic of something buried deep in the race. The Celtic leaders from whom his blood descended had been remarkable for their simple living, ferocity and cultured minds that did not seem to reflect their way of life. For him, Quick might have fallen at Culloden or Killiecrankie. It mattered not that Quick died in the 19th Century, in that modern time.
Men die for my bad temper and pigheadedness, he reflected. They have always died for that. I should have prevented this. Why did I bring him on this useless trip? I killed George Dangerfield for nothing, for my vanity and pride. I should have accepted his apology. It was so long ago. No, it was yesterday… I killed that detective from Kentucky. I sent Fred Kennedy to New York to do it. He will not forgive me for asking that of him. Patrick died at Gettysburg for nothing, nothing.
He looked down at the canvas bag. My father was right. He is still right. I am selfish, useless, no use… He kept his vigil by the body until six marines offered to carry it down the gangway at Fortress Monroe.
Secretary Stanton heard Devereux’s words to the end before saying anything. Then he made a face and revealed that Grant had telegraphed to agree that the time had come to rid the army of the nuisance of Butler’s presence.
“Alfred Terry, one of Grant’s favorites is appointed to command a renewed assault. You will accompany him as well. You can have a week or so here. Take two weeks leave. You look as though you need it…” Stanton seemed to enjoy saying that. “We want Wilmington closed to shipping from Europe before the spring offensives. Watch Terry closely for any sign that he cannot do this for us.”
Devereux knew Stanton well, and saw that the Secretary of War would be happy with an opportunity to eliminate another of Grant’s protégés.
For the start of the new and undoubtedly victorious year, Washington celebrated in a fashion unheard of since secession. Seeking solace, Claude took a party connected to his family circle to Willard’s Hotel for the grand New Year’s gala held there. He asked the Washington provost marshal if his brother as a newly reclaimed citizen could attend. The military police chief was an old ally in the political intrigue of the capital and readily agreed. The US authorities knew nothing of Smoot. His “papers” had been well drawn in Richmond. He was a businessman from Ohio.
They buried John Quick a few days earlier, buried him near Gallagher, Patrick and other family members in St. Mary’s cemetery. Father Willem Kruger, S.J., the rector of St. Mary’s church in Alexandria officiated at a requiem Mass and the graveside service.
Claude thanked him when they were done. Kruger had been the clergyman at his brother’s funeral after Gettysburg. Lincoln attended the funeral. Patrick’s fiery Confederate wife, now the mother of John Balthazar’s daughter had raged at this but to no effect.
“Good morning, General,” Kruger said in greeting. “ Father Kruger was an intimate of the Devereux family and often took dinner with them on Sundays. “I have not seen you lately,” he said. Willem Kruger was Devereux’s confessor and spiritual advisor. It was a relationship that had emerged over the years without discussion or debate.
“Are you free this afternoon, Willem?” Devereux asked.
“We have discussed your part in the war for years,” Kruger said.
They were seated in the sparsely decorated and furnished office of the Duke Street rectory of Saint Mary’s Church.
“We had every legal and moral right to leave the Union as our states voted us out,” the Jesuit said. “The Northern ‘section’ had no right to force us back into their embrace. We are a free people. For you or any of us to resist the invader and occupier is an ethical duty. For you to deceive them is not a sin at all. It is part of your duty to your country. On the other hand, your actions toward the women in your life are a grave fault and an error that may damn you. Your wonderful wife has been loyal to you to a fault. She should have rebuked you earlier. Isaac Smoot is taking instruction in the faith from me. What am I to make of that? The Biddle woman did the same. Now she is a congregant he
re. I am happy to see such good folk find the Lord in our Church, but I cannot approve the inspiration. Should I expect others? In terms of the natural law your actions are gravely disordered. If you do not desist from wrecking your family life I will be forced to take notice. I may refuse you the Eucharist…” The look on the Dutchman’s face left little doubt of his determination.
“I can’t help myself,” Devereux began. “This has all become too much for me… I must escape, must leave to be alone again with Hope. I will flee to Europe, to France.”
“When?”
“As soon as possible, I must not be here after the army captures Richmond. Lincoln has told me I can have six months leave. As soon as he approves, we will depart on one of our ships. What will you do? Can you remain here?”
“I am the pastor of souls in this city. I will stay until my people are safe. If I am then still at liberty, I will return to Europe. My community will have a place for me there in one of our schools. I was a teacher of philosophy before I came to America. I would not live here under the rule of a government held together by force…”
Claude was still for a moment. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I never wanted this,” he finally began. “I wished to remain with my regiment among my friends and neighbors. I bled for the privilege. The government would not allow it. Jefferson Davis would not allow it.” Having said this, he knelt for his friend’s attempt at bestowal of God’s blessing and then departed.
Devereux dreaded a return to Fort Fisher as he had dreaded little else. A deep sense of looming loss hung over him. He dreamt the old dream again. His father and grandfather came again and again to argue. They debated his fate and guilt. Patrick, his brother, came with them now, and once Joe White appeared to stand silently apart from the argument. In the dream Claude begged Patrick and Joe to speak for him but they would not. One night he woke screaming and sweating in his wife’s arms as she tried to quiet and comfort him.
At midnight on the 31st of December he danced with Hope in the ballroom in Willard’s Hotel. He kissed her in a way that promised more when they returned to Duke Street. They made a beautiful tableau, she in a grand ball gown and he in full dress uniform. Few would have guessed how hollow the marriage had become. There were many witnesses to this display; his brother Jake, Isaac Smoot, Amy Biddle and Wilson Ford, Frederick Braithwaite, his wife Elizabeth and Mary Whitman, Claude’s latest paramour. Her husband was absent on the military railroad’s business.
“Don’t fret, Isaac,” Jake said to Smoot. “All this will be simpler soon…”
In the time left to him before his return to the fleet, Claude walked the streets of Alexandria, rode in the country on the Lee estate at Arlington and frequented his mistresses. Maude, the wolfhound, became his constant companion. He was the only human, other than Hope, who attracted her loyalty. At home, she would come to him to rest her chin on his knee, waiting for his caress. He did not disappoint her.
On his walks around the town, he sometimes saw Booth. On one of these occasions he found himself unable to avoid speaking to the actor. Booth stood in the street outside the bank. Jimmy Fowle and Smoot were with him.
“Good morning, General,” Booth said. “I was just visiting your friends…”
“I didn’t know they were interested in the theater. Are you in a production in Washington?”
Booth frowned and looked at his companions and then back at Devereux. “Ah, I see. Nothing at the moment, I am just back from Montreal. Some of your friends there send you greetings.” At that he smiled broadly.
Devereux’s heart sank. Montreal was full to the brim with Confederate secret service agents.
The dog sensed his mood and unexpectedly growled at Booth who backed away from the large animal.
“Thank you,” Claude replied. “I’ll be on my way before she decides to see if you taste good.” With that he departed leaving them on the brick sidewalk.
Maude looked back at Booth apprehensively.
He decided that he would not renew his cautionary remarks to Hope. He had reached the conclusion that it would probably be impossible for him to escape the consequences of Union victory in the war. Too many people in Richmond and elsewhere must know of his mission. Nevertheless he would try to escape. It was in his nature to do that, but it was not necessary to trouble his wife further in the matter. He had caused her too much pain. He would not cause her more if he could avoid the necessity.
His sister-in-law, Victoria announced that she would not leave for Europe without Patrick’s mare. The look in her eye made it clear that there would be no persuading her of the frivolity of that demand. She brought this matter forward at a family dinner. His wife and mother watched him.
“All right, I will have the ship’s carpenter change the hold into a stall.”
“I want to bring the donkey as well.”
“The donkey?”
“The mare has been given this animal as a stall companion,” Hope said. “They are quite devoted…”
There were frowns around the table in anticipation of his reaction.
And, why not? Why should a Southern donkey not escape to Europe? “Certainly, certainly, I suppose the French douane will have no problem with this. If they do, there is always money…”
The women smiled at him, a rare occurrence in recent times.
— 12 January —
Claude was once again aboard USS Malvern as she led the way south for the armada that would make a second attempt to conquer Fort Fisher. There were 59 warships mounting 627 guns. There were 21 transports carrying 8,897 officers and men from the Army of the James. Included in the landing force were numerous artillery batteries. Among them were siege guns with which to breach the north “face” of the fortification. Two companies of combat engineers rounded out the force. Just to make sure that enough strength was available Grant had 4,000 more men standing by at Baltimore ready to embark as reinforcements. The soldiers were mostly from the northeastern United States. A brigade of black “US Colored Troops” was included to satisfy the demands of abolitionists in the US Congress who wanted to establish the patriotism and valor of their protégés.
Fort Fisher
The Confederate commander of the fort had the fortress gun crews of Confederate Marines as well as the 36th North Carolina Infantry Regiment as garrison. In all that amounted to 1,000 men. The odds on the ground would be 10 to 1 if reinforcements from Wilmington did not intervene. Major General Robert Hoke’s veteran Confederate division of 6,000 men was at Wilmington.
The bombardment began at first light on the 13th of January. The day was bright, sunny and cold. The ships anchored in three lines with five ironclads in front of the first line of wooden frigates. The huge muzzle loading cannon roared, throwing massive projectiles at the sand fort and the troops sheltered in underground shelters.
From time to time, the fire slackened and Rebels emerged from their shelters to fire at the ships.
USS New Ironsides, an ironclad, was struck. A lucky shot went through a gun port to tear the gun deck to pieces.
The five turreted “monitors” then fired their two long guns and rotated their turrets to face away from the fort while they loaded. They did not want a repetition of what had happened to New Ironsides.
USS Montauk
The new army commander, Major General Alfred Terry, began landing his men north of the big sand fort that morning. The landing was unopposed and soon soldiers were playing in the sand and guffawing at the sight of officers falling in the surf or stepping in underwater holes into which they momentarily disappeared. By noon there were three thousand men on the beach. Thousands of rations, hundreds of shovels, a forest of white tents, and a mountain of ammunition were also ashore. In the afternoon Terry rode a boat to the shore while seated in dignity and waded to the land through the shallows. The troops cheered at the sight of him. Unlike Ben Butler, his predecessor, Terry was well known to soldiers who had learned to like him and to appreciate his courtesy and calm in earlier days in
Virginia. Some soldiers discovered a farmer’s cows in the nearby trees and an impromptu steak cook out was soon underway in the landing area. By nightfall there were several batteries of artillery and 8,000 soldiers in the foothold on shore.
Claude watched from the deck of USS Vernon as a messenger from Terry came aboard to announce the general’s plans to Admiral Porter.
After reading the message Porter handed it to Devereux. In the interval between the two expeditions, Porter made enquiries about this volunteer officer. The news that this was a favorite of the president had somewhat but not altogether altered his attitude and behavior.
The message explained that Terry would march nearly all of his men across the peninsula and then turn south to approach Fort Fisher, once there he would entrench his force facing the landward sand wall with expectation of an assault once the army occupied the ground.
It was easy to see that if a substantial Confederate force attacked Terry’s beachhead from the north, the situation could be reversed.
Devereux could not know that General Braxton Bragg was now the Southern commander in the area and that rather than use Hoke’s division for such an attack he was preparing to evacuate Wilmington, a disastrous move that would mean the end for Fort Fisher.
Major General Chase Whiting, the previous Confederate commander in the area and a Northerner by birth tried desperately to persuade Bragg to attack but to no avail. In despair at this folly, Whiting commandeered a steamer and went downriver to Fort Fisher. When he arrived he told the fort commander, “Lamb, old fellow, you are to be sacrificed and I have come to share your fate.”
— 14 January —
At first light, Robert Hoke informed Braxton Bragg that patrols to the south of his main position had discovered that Terry had moved away from the landing site except for a small number of men left to defend the supplies.
Bragg came to see and at first decided to attack both parts of Terry’s army. The main group facing the fort’s wall was plainly vulnerable. He would be attacking them from behind.
Down the Sky: Volume Three of the “Strike The Tent” Trilogy Page 18
