Without the kind of reconnaissance that Robert Van Buskirk had provided at Fort Henry, Foote was reluctant to attack, but he at last gave in to Grant’s pressure and at about 3:00 PM opened fire. The Confederate gunners, many of whom had escaped from Fort Henry, waited until the Union gunboats were within four hundred yards, then opened fire with devastating accuracy. The wheelhouse of USS St. Louis was destroyed in the first barrage and Foote was injured by flying debris. Without a wheelhouse, the ironclad drifted aimlessly downriver, out of control and out of the battle. Soon afterward, the USS Louisville suffered disabling damage and USS Pittsburg began taking on water.
Although the remaining Union gunboats still controlled the Cumberland River, Grant knew that any success at Donelson would now have to be carried by the army, and he wired Halleck that he might have to resort to a siege.
This morning, after giving strict orders not to engage the enemy, he had gone to see how badly Foote was wounded and got the unexpected dunking in the river that he’d just described to Anna and Nancy. Now he was racing toward the sound of fierce small arms fire over an icy road on another horse he’d never before ridden.
Grant reached Wallace’s headquarters at around 1:00 PM to find his army in disarray and his commanders arguing. “What’s going on here?” he asked as the angry voices fell to silence.
“This army wants a head,” McClernand replied.
“Yes,” Grant said. “It would seem so.” He pointed. “Gentlemen, the position on the right must be retaken.” He looked for an aide and beckoned. “My compliments to Flag Officer Foote. He is to begin firing demonstration salvos to encourage our troops and to demoralize the Confederates. I care not what targets he chooses. It doesn’t matter, so long as he makes noise. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” The aide mounted his horse and rode out.
Grant walked to one of the Confederate prisoners and asked for his knapsack. The man gave it to him without argument. Grant looked inside. “How many days’ rations is this?”
“Three,” the man replied.
Grant turned back to his commanders. “Three days’ rations tell us that these men are breaking out with the intention of abandoning the fort. They’re not attacking us to drive us away.” He looked at Smith. “Who’s in command of the enemy forces to our right, Charlie? Do we know that?”
Smith shrugged. “It was General John Floyd, but he’s withdrawn his troops to the trenches at Fort Donelson.”
“Well, we’re not prepared for this unexpected cold, so a siege is now out of the question,” Grant said. “We must take those trenches and the fort by storm as soon as we can.”
“I will,” Smith replied.
“How?” Grant asked.
Smith looked for his brigade commanders. “Colonel Lauman’s brigade will lead the attack, with Colonel Tuttle’s Second Iowa Infantry in front. Colonel Cook’s brigade will feint an attack to draw fire away from Lauman’s brigade, then he’ll fall back in support.”
“Very well,” Grant said. “Your objective will be to seize and hold the earthworks. General Wallace will be on your left and he’ll coordinate his attack to be simultaneous with yours”
“Yes, sir,” Smith said.
“All I want is to regain what we lost before dark, Charlie,” Grant said. “We’ll allow the men to build small fires in the trenches, tough out another night and storm the fort in the morning.”
February 16, 1862
Hickman Creek, Tennessee
The sun was just turning the clouds to a lighter gray when Grant looked up from the note he’d just read. “Why is it General Buckner who’s asking for terms of surrender? He’s not a senior commander. Are both Generals Floyd and Pillow dead?”
“General Pillow apparently escaped across the Cumberland in a small boat last night, sir,” the aide replied. “General Floyd left this morning on a steamer bound for Nashville with two regiments of Virginia infantry. Forrest’s cavalry kept us from preventing that, and he’s following the steamer by land.”
“Very well.” Grant reread the note from Buckner, then wrote his reply:
Sir:
Yours of this date proposing Armistice, and appointment of Commissioners, to settle terms of Capitulation is just received. No terms except unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted.
I propose to move immediately upon your works.
I am Sir: very respectfully
Your obt. sevt.
U.S. Grant
Brig. Gen
“See that it’s delivered immediately. No interventions or attachments from other commanders. I said unconditional surrender and I mean unconditional surrender.”
“Yes, sir.”
Grant turned in his chair toward Anna and Nancy who were sitting together near the fire. “If you’re up to it, ladies, I’d suggest that you begin by searching downriver. Talk to everyone you can and be sure to make it clear that the Union is now in control of these forts. If some family’s taken Robert in to care for him, they might be worried about Confederate reprisals. Tell everyone you speak to that we won’t allow that.”
Anna stood up and stretched. “How long does it take before a dead body floats to the surface?”
“I don’t know,” Grant replied. “But the people downriver will be able to tell you that. I’ll find you when I’ve seen to things here.”
“That’s very kind of you to offer, but unnecessary, General,” Anna said. “You have a war to win.”
“That task would be a whole lot easier with Robert Van Buskirk to advise me.”
“We’ll find him,” Anna said. “One way or the other. We’ll find him.”
February 21, 1862
The Cumberland River, Tennessee
Anna reined in the horses. “Excuse me,” she shouted at a man who was struggling with some tangled fishing nets.
“What is it?” he answered.
“We’re looking for a Union soldier, or news of him. He’s been missing for nearly three weeks, since about the second. After the Battle of Fort Henry.” Anna had said the same thing so many times now that it sounded rehearsed in her own ears.
“Union you say?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Anna replied. “The Union is in control of this area and they have promised protection for anyone who’s aided Federal troops.”
“What’s his name, this soldier yer lookin’ for?”
“Van Buskirk. Robert.”
The man gestured with his head. “He’s over to the wider Duncan’s.”
Anna glanced at Nancy who had gasped and now had her hands held firmly over her mouth. “Where does the widow Duncan live?” Anna asked the man.
“Just keep a-goin’ and you’ll see a red barn. That’s her place. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” Anna flicked the reins. “Don’t get your hopes up, Nancy.”
“Too late,” Nancy replied.
“If he’d been here all along, he’d have gotten a message out by now, somehow,” Anna said, almost to herself.
“These people are kind of clannish,” Nancy replied.
“Still…”
“Stop it. He’s alive and we’ve found him.” Nancy pointed. “That must be the red barn.”
“Looks red to me. It might not be him.”
“It has to be him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, but it does.”
Anna turned onto a rough road that led around the barn to a small cabin. “Do you want to wait in the wagon while I go see?”
“No. I want to go with you.”
As Anna reined in the horses in front of the cabin, the door opened and a pretty young woman with a shotgun in her hands stepped out.
“Are you Mrs. Duncan?” Anna asked.
The woman nodded.
“I’m Anna Van Buskirk. I’m looking for my brother, Robert Van Buskirk. This is my sister-in-law, Nancy Van Buskirk. Robert’s wife.”
The woman lowered the shotgun and gestured toward the house with a ti
p of her head. “He’s inside.”
Anna exchanged a look with Nancy and set the brake.
Nancy jumped down and walked toward the house, stopping at arm’s length from the younger woman. “Can I see my husband?”
The woman stood aside.
Nancy went in and saw Robert sitting in a chair in front of a fireplace. His left leg was splinted, bandaged, and propped up on a crate. A little boy of about two was on his lap. He stared at Nancy for a moment, put the child down and stood up, balancing on his good right leg. “Nancy? Dear God, Nancy. Is it really you?”
She ran to him, put her arms around him and then staggered to keep him from falling. “Sit back down.” She helped him sit and then lifted his leg back onto the crate.
Anna had come in but the young woman was still standing outside the open door. “Hello, Robert. How have you been?” Anna asked.
Robert looked from her to Nancy and laughed. “What the hell are you two doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Anna said. She had her arms folded and was watching him.
Robert looked confused. “I don’t understand. Did Grant send for you? Why didn’t he send an ambulance? Is he all right?”
“General Grant doesn’t know you’re here,” Anna said.
“What?” Robert looked toward the open door. “I’ve sent several messages to him. And to each of you.”
“Neither General Grant nor either of us has received any messages,” Anna said, tossing a distrustful glance toward Mrs. Duncan.
Mrs. Duncan came into the cabin and closed the door.
“You didn’t send my messages, Rachel?” Robert asked in astonishment.
“Of course she didn’t,” Nancy said. “She wanted to keep you for herself.”
“Can you travel, Robert?” Anna interrupted before the woman could respond.
“Yes.” Robert turned to look at Anna. “I don’t have any money. Will you please pay Mrs. Duncan for her kindness?”
“I don’t want no money,” the woman replied. She picked up her child and balanced him on her hip.
“I insist,” Robert said.
“In my pocketbook.” Anna pointed toward the wagon outside. “I’ll be right back.” She started for the door.
“Pay the little bitch with my money,” Nancy growled, scowling at Mrs. Duncan.
“She doesn’t deserve that,” Robert said. “Rachel saved my life.”
“He’s right,” Anna said. “Let it go, Nancy.” She walked out the front door.
“Nothin’ happened,” Mrs. Duncan said to Nancy. “I ain’t some tramp.”
“Oh sure,” Nancy replied.
“I just wanted to let him have some little time with us to see if maybe he’d want to stay,” Mrs. Duncan insisted. “My boy needs a father, and you ain’t give Robert no kids.” She looked at the child, then at Robert. “They liked each other right off.”
Anna came back into the cabin and handed Mrs. Duncan a small purse, then she walked over to Robert. “Can you stand up?”
“Yes,” he said, struggling to his feet. He put his right arm over Nancy’s shoulders and his left over Anna’s. “Thank you, Rachel. I’m very sorry to be leaving on such a sour note but – well. I’m sorry.” He looked sadly at the little boy. “Bye-bye, Tommie. I’ll miss you.”
The child buried his face against his mother’s shoulder.
February 22, 1862
Dover, Tennessee
Anna was sitting at a table in the Dover Inn’s small, very cold and very empty dining room, reading a newspaper as Nancy joined her.
“Have you been crying?” Nancy asked. Her breath clouded as she spoke.
Anna gave her the paper.
“Jefferson Davis inaugurated as president of the Confederate States of America? That made you cry?”
“No.” Anna pointed at the bottom of the page. “Willie Lincoln died.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Who?”
“The President’s little boy. William Wallace Lincoln. He was eleven.”
“Oh no. That cute little kid that the President was always playing with on the White House lawn? The older one?”
Anna nodded. “Mary Lincoln’s going to go completely to pieces.”
“What do you care? The old cow got you fired.”
“I wouldn’t wish the death of a child on my worst enemy.”
“No,” Nancy agreed after a moment. “No, I guess not.”
Anna took a deep breath. “How’s the patient?”
“Fine.” She giggled. “And judging by his enthusiasm in bed, I think Mrs. Duncan must have been telling the truth.”
Anna made a face. “I don’t want to know about that.”
“That woman set the broken bone in his leg all by herself, with no help from anyone,” Nancy said. “I couldn’t have done that. I doubt that most doctors could.”
“You’ve gone from hating her to loving her overnight?”
“Loving her would be a stretch, but I’m not ready to kill her this morning.” She shivered. “Why is it so damned cold in here?”
Anna shrugged. “There’s no fireplace. Did you ask Robert if he’d come home with us?”
Nancy nodded. “He says that he can’t. He wants us to take him to Grant’s headquarters.”
“I sent Grant a telegram last night. If he wants Robert he can send someone for him.”
Nancy pointed out the window. “Speak of the devil. It’s Unconditional Surrender Grant.”
Anna walked to the door and opened it. “Second floor. The last room toward the river.” Grant waved and Anna returned to the table. “You could stay here with Robert, you know.”
“Would you mind if I did?”
“I’d miss you terribly, but you should be with your husband,” Anna said.
“I never really knew what he was facing until we got off the boat and I saw the battlefield and the forts and all the dead horses and wounded men.”
“Yes. And all the corpses floating in the river.”
Nancy shuddered. “I’ll be seeing those in my nightmares for the rest of my life.”
Anna patted Nancy’s hand. “You had me worried there for a while.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “I was afraid that God was watching me and that if I made a mistake, He would punish me by taking Robert from me.”
Anna sat back in her chair. “You? The famous atheist and hater of all things Godly?”
“I’m a fake. At this juncture in my life, I look back and see that the only anchors to reality are you, Quincy and Robert. Everything else is artificial.”
“You’re being too rough on yourself.”
“Really? What about my latest volunteering to drive an ambulance on battlefields? I talked about it for a while; then I did nothing. Do you know what, Anna? If you hadn’t dragged me out of the Willard to search for Robert I wouldn’t have done a thing, except maybe buy a black mourning dress.” She looked around. “Is there any service in this place?”
Anna shook her head. “The owners must be Confederate sympathizers. There was no one in here or in the office this morning. I broke the lock and came in to see if I could make some coffee. I couldn’t figure the stove out, though.”
“Where did you get the paper?”
“There’s a bundle of them on the porch in front of the office.”
“What’s so complicated about the stove?”
“I couldn’t see anyplace to start a fire.”
“Oh. I’ll bet the firebox is outside like the kitchen stoves at the Willard.”
Anna chuckled. “This is Dover, Tennessee, not Washington, D.C., Nancy.”
“And that’s the Cumberland River. It’s connected to the Ohio River in Kentucky and the Ohio is connected to the Mississippi and the Mississippi is connected to the world.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ah-ha. That’s why taking these forts was so important. They’re the key to encircling the south. Like General Scott’s Anaconda.”
“I’m afraid that General Scott’s Anacond
a was more of an old man’s dream than a military plan,” Anna said. “There are a lot of other forts between here and the Mississippi, and it’s going to be a bloody fight to take each of them.”
They looked up as a young man in the uniform of an Army Lieutenant came in.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said in a cheery voice. “The generals sent me to fetch some coffee.”
“The staff seems to have gone south with the remnants of the Confederate Army,” Anna said.
“Hmm. Is that the kitchen?” He pointed.
“Yes,” Anna replied. “There’s coffee and a grinder in there, but the stove is some kind of new invention.”
“Guess I’d better take a look. Two crabby old generals can make a bad day worse.” He pushed through the swinging door.
Nancy giggled. “I wonder who he thinks we are.”
“Street trollops, if I look anything like you.”
Nancy looked down are her badly soiled dress, then she examined Anna. “At least I combed my hair.”
“I washed my hair last night in cold water but the soap burned my eyes so badly that I didn’t get it rinsed well. It’s a rat’s nest this morning. I couldn’t pull my comb through it.”
“Maybe that young officer will figure out the stove so we can heat some water.”
“He’s a nice looking boy.”
“Shame on you, cradle robber,” Nancy teased.
“Guilty as charged, whenever the opportunity arises.”
Nancy looked out the window, then back at Anna. “Did you see the expression on Robert’s face when he said good-bye to that little boy?”
The Way of All Soldiers (Gone For Soldiers) Page 8
