Grant Comes East - Civil War 02

by Newt Gingrich; William Forstchen

  "For the morale of the men, even though four of the corps are to be disbanded, they will retain their old corps badges. Regiments are to be consolidated into new regiments from their home states and will retain their colors. I know these men, and those badges and their flags are sources of pride that must be honored by us."

  The men gathered around him nodded with approval.

  "I want the best damn rations down here now. None of this hardtack and salt pork while we are in camp. I want good, clean field kitchens; I want fresh food; I don't care how we get it, but I want it. The men are to have fresh bread daily, all they can eat, fresh meat on the hoof; by God we have the transportation here with the railroads and rivers, and I want it. Nothing is to be spared.

  "One out of every ten men from each regiment is to be granted two weeks' furlough. Three weeks for our regiments from the Midwest. The enlisted men of each regiment will select among themselves who receives these furloughs. For every recruit they bring back from home their company will be given a cash bonus of fifty dollars, the men of the company to spend it as they see fit."

  "Where are we going to get that kind of money, sir?" one of the staff asked.

  "Don't worry about it. I have friends in the right places. If we bring in five to ten thousand that way, it will be worth it. The new recruits will be men from hometowns standing alongside their neighbors and kin in the next fight, not the riffraff to be found by the draft boards. It will play well with the veterans, who will look after them and teach them the traditions of the Army of the Potomac.

  "I want a liquor ration to be given every Saturday night as well. Half a gill of rum or whiskey per man."

  "The temperance crowd will scream over that one," someone chuckled.

  'To hell with the temperance crowd. These men have been through hell and deserve a touch of liquor. To be certain, it might cause a few problems, but it will bind them to us the stronger.

  "I've got more orders as well, regarding sutlers, equipment, outfitting of select regiments with breech-loading rifles, new uniforms, shoes, drill, reviews. We have thirty days to build this army back into a fighting force, and by God we will do it."

  No one spoke.

  "Fine, then. Staff meeting at eight in the morning."

  His tone carried a note of dismissal.

  "General Sickles." It was Sykes. "Did you see the latest dispatches from Baltimore?"

  "Not since I left Philadelphia just after noon."

  "It's reported that Lee is abandoning his position in front of Washington."

  "What?"

  "Civilian reports only. President Davis is confirmed as being with him. Baltimore and Annapolis are in a panic. It appears that Lee is marching north."

  Dan grinned.

  "Good! Damn good! My one fear was that he would slink off before we could give him the treatment he deserved."

  "Also, General Grant came through here late yesterday and took a courier boat to Washington. There's been no report on him since."

  Sickles’s features darkened.

  "Who was with him?"

  "General Haupt and Congressman Washburne." "Who saw him?"

  "Just the guard detail down at the wharf." "Did he ask former'

  "No sir, not a word. He got off the train and was on the boat and gone within five minutes." Dan nodded.

  With luck, Grant would be ordered to stay in Washington. More than one of his friends would be pulling strings for that even now. If not, it would mean he would return through here. That was worth knowing, and of course Dan would make sure he was unfortunately unavailable when Grant came through. The last thing he needed now was for that man to be interfering in his own plans.

  Everything would fall into place in due course, of that he was certain.

  Washington, D.C.

  July 20,1863 8:00 P.M.

  Come in, Elihu," Lincoln said, waving for the congressman to sit down in the seat across from his desk.

  Elihu, moving slowly, obviously beaten down with exhaustion, exhaled noisily as he took the seat. Lincoln smiled, stocking feet up on his desk.

  "Did you see him off?"

  "Yes. Both he and Haupt are on their way. Same courier boat that brought us here."

  "And the meeting with Stanton before he left?"

  'Tense, to say the least It's obvious Edwin wasn't pleased with how you outmaneuvered him."

  Lincoln chuckled softly and shook his head.

  "Edwin means well, most of the time. It's just that Grant is not part of his circle. He felt a need to control him."

  " 'Means well most of the time'? I do think that Edwin believes he is running the war by himself. He'll try to somehow knock Grant off his tracks."

  "One of the advantages of being a city under siege," Lincoln replied. "Communications between us and Harrisburg will be difficult for now. Grant can do as he wishes with my authority behind him."

  Lincoln sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

  "I would have thought that by now we would all see the situation clearly and bury our differences. In the next eight weeks we will either win this war or lose it Gettysburg and Union Mills focused that clearly for me. The crisis has come. We're like the two farmers who hitched two sets of mules to a wagon pointing in opposite directions and then fell into arguing about it for the rest of the day. We've got to get them all pointed in the same direction, with only one driver on top.

  "Grant sees that. In the East he will point everything at Lee, and Haupt will give him the means to do it In the West we stand in place on the Mississippi, just hold what we have for the moment Any thoughts of taking Mobile, Charleston, Texas, and Florida are to be abandoned, the men shipped here. The second big effort will be with Rosecrans on Chattanooga and then Atlanta. Once Sherman has consolidated our hold on Vicksburg, he will join Rosecrans and take command. That will be it No other campaigns this summer and fall. Every available man here, to face Lee and no one else. If we lose some gains elsewhere, that will be in the short run.

  "Grant understands this new kind of war, Elihu. It's frightful. War is now a machine, a steam-powered juggernaut God save us, in a way, the old image of war did have its appeal, even though boys wound up dying, often in droves. Grant can guide this juggernaut, pushed by a thousand factories and locomotives. It's ghastly, but if in the end it saves this republic, and perhaps scares everyone so badly that we will never see a war here again, then the sacrifices will be worth it"

  Lincoln sat back, precariously balanced with feet up on the table so that his chair almost tipped over. He pulled a small paring knife out of his pocket, opened it and went to work on his fingernails.

  "And yet the political games still play out," he sighed.

  "It's always been that way, sir. We're no different from the Romans, the Greeks. Remember Alcibiades? Even though the city-states knew they were collapsing under the weight of their wars, still Athens worked at cross-purposes with itself and squandered its best generals. We're no different"

  "I hoped we could be. I believe we can be," Lincoln said softly. "A fair part of the world, at this moment wishes us to fail. They are praying even now for it, because we represent something different. A belief that the common man is the equal of any king, of any despot of any fanatic claiming mat God is behind him. If we fail now, if we let this continent sink into divided nations that ultimately will fight yet again and divide yet again, then the dream of our forefathers will be for naught."

  He shook his head and chuckled self-consciously.

  "Sorry for the speech, Elihu."

  "I rather like them at times, Mr. President. When they come from the heart they remind me of why I first got into politics."

  Lincoln chuckled.

  "I wonder at times how many out there believe that idealism did drive some of us to this path. To hear our opponents and the press behind them, one would think that we did it simply to grasp for power and money. I'll be hanged, Elihu, but if I wanted that, I'd have stayed in my practice and charged the railroad companies exor
bitant fees."

  "It's always that way, sir. When they can't fight you on principles, the only recourse is to smear you or to kill you."

  Lincoln said nothing for a moment, slowly nodding his head.

  "Do you think Grant will measure up to the job?" Lincoln asked.

  "Yes, I do believe he will. His record already indicates that As you asked, I observed him closely the last week. There was no puffing up the way so many would have, like McClellan or Hooker. He took his responsibilities calmly, without pomp or fanfare. You saw that touch of his private's uniform. It wasn't posturing; it's just the man is so simple in that sense that he believes that is how he should dress and behave. I like that."

  "So do I."

  Lincoln smiled and nodded to his stocking feet on the tabletop.

  "Mrs. Lincoln is always telling me that George Washington never would have put his bare feet up on a table, but Elihu, I think he did."

  Elihu laughed softly in reply.

  "Well, sir, when it comes to George Washington, honestly I can't see him in stocking feet Andy Jackson, of course, but not Washington."

  Lincoln smiled.

  "Grant's staff, the generals under him, they worship the man," Elihu continued, "but he will tolerate no open displays. As you said, he sees this war as a grim, filthy business. And the quickest way to resolve it is to apply every ounce of strength we have into one terrible blow at the key point. We talked a lot about that He says that war has changed forever. It is now an entire nation, its industry, its strength, applied to the battlefield. He grasps that our strength might not be in terms of certain generals, such as Lee, but rather in an unrelenting combination of manpower and industry. That he sees as the key to victory."

  "You like him, don't you?"

  "Yes, I do. I remember him from before the war. Poor man, washed up from what had happened to him. We talked several times; he was gentle, quiet, soft-spoken; hard to believe he had been trained as a soldier. I think he was haunted by what he saw in Mexico, and frankly I liked that, in spite of his turning to the bottle as an answer.

  "He hates war. He hates the waste and the blood. Someone told me that in one of his first battles in Mexico, a close friend, standing by his side, was decapitated. It has given him nightmares ever since."

  Lincoln said nothing.

  "There is no talk of glory in this man the way we heard with McClellan, Hooker, Pope, and too many others."

  "Will he see it through and not lose his nerve?'

  "Sir. The question is more will you see it through?"

  Lincoln looked at him quizzically.

  "Many of the papers up north are howling. The riot in New York was a near run thing, as were the riots in Cincinnati and Philadelphia. If we lose one more fight like Union Mills, you might be facing a collapse, the Democrats in Congress will call for a meeting with Davis, who, as you know, is this night not a dozen miles from here. If You refuse, they might seek to impeach you, and I fear that more than one member of your Cabinet would go along with it"

  Lincoln shook his head.

  "Thank God for the Founding Fathers," he said softly. "Sir?'

  "In their wisdom they gave the executive four years in office. Until that term expires, I will hold the course. I swore an oath before God to defend our Constitution and I shall do it Congress can howl, they can scream. I don't care what they say now. Congress might be swayed by the passions of the moment but I will not be. If my Cabinet turns against this course, I will fire them. If need be, I will stand alone. As long as Grant can field an army, I will support him and I will hold this course. If the people, in their wisdom, or because of the fears and lies of the demagogues, should vote me out, then so be it but until then, I will plow the furrow I am in."

  Elihu smiled.

  "Then Grant is your man."

  Baltimore, Maryland

  July 20, 1863 11:30pm

  The knock on the door was in code—three taps, three times. Sitting in the semidarkness with George Kane, one of the city's former commissioners of police, ex-mayor George Brown looked up nervously. He moved to blow out the coal oil lamp on the table between them, but Kane shook his head.

  "Do that and they'll come barging in." "What if it's Federals?" Kane forced a smile.

  "Then it's back to prison. Go answer the door." Brown stood up, his wife standing at the top of the stairs looking down at him, eyes wide. "Stay up there," he hissed.

  He went to the door, checked to see that the chain latch was hooked in place, undid the bolt and cracked it open. "The Honorable George Brown?" The man standing on the steps was wrapped in a dark cloak, broad-brimmed hat pulled down low over his eyes. He smelled of horse sweat

  "Who is asking for him?" Brown asked.

  "A friend."

  "How can I be certain?"

  "Mr. Brown, I don't know any of the damn silly passwords, but I beg you, let me in." "I'm armed," Brown said.

  "You should be, on a night like this; now please let me in."

  He hesitated, the man in the doorway looking around nervously. A patrol marched with shouldered rifles, passed on a side street, a crowd of several dozen behind them, shouting, obviously drunk.

  "Damn it, sir, don't leave me standing out here."

  The stranger opened the top button of his cloak and Brown caught a glimpse of a uniform collar. It was light-colored, not the dark blue of a Union jacket, which looked black at night.

  Brown unhooked the chain and opened the door wider. The lone man slipped in, Brown latching the door shut behind him.

  "This way," Brown announced and pointed to the parlor. Kane was on his feet, hand in one pocket of his trousers. "Who is it?" Kane asked.

  The man stood in the doorway and looked around cautiously.

  "Sir, I will have to ask who you are first"

  "This is a friend of mine," Brown interjected, "and you are a guest in my house. So please, no more tomfoolery, identify yourself."

  "Sir, I am Lieutenant Kirby of General Stuart's staff and with the First Maryland Cavalry, Confederate States of America. I grew up here in Baltimore; my father worked on Mr. Howard's newspaper as a typesetter. If you wish for verification, I know where Mr. Howard is and will find him, but I would prefer not to be back out on the street"

  Kirby unbuttoned his cloak, revealing a stained jacket of the Confederate army, and reached into his breast pocket

  Kane stiffened slightly at the move. Kirby slowed and drew out a sealed envelope, with several matches welded to the paper in the wax seal so that it could be destroyed quickly.

  "Sir, this is a letter of introduction from General Stuart. It is not addressed to you for obvious reasons, but I was instructed to place it in your hands."

  Brown took the envelope, broke the seal, and read the contents. It was the standard sort of letter, asking for the kind reception of the bearer, some general platitudes, nothing more. Brown looked carefully at the signature.

  "I regret to say I do not know General Stuart's hand," Brown said cautiously.

  "We didn't expect you to, sir."

  "How did you get here?" Kane asked

  "I was part of a troop sent forward to gather information about the defenses of this city. The men are all Marylanders and we know this place well. My orders were that, given the opportunity, I was to try and slip into the city and establish contact with you."

  "In uniform?" Brown asked, a bit incredulous.

  "He's no fool," Kane interjected "If captured, he's a soldier and cannot be hanged as a spy. Most likely your cover was that you were just sneaking through to visit a dying mother or auntie. Is. that it?"

  Kirby grinned boyishly and nodded

  "And your passage in here?"

  "Sir, I don't mink I should tell you my exact path. But as a boy I used to come out of the city to hunt and fish, so I know my way about It didn't get dicey until the last ten blocks or so. Loyal League patrols are out in force, raising a ruckus, many of them drunk. I bluffed my way past one group; it cost me the bottle of whi
skey I had in my pocket I fear though there could be violence before much longer; they seem frightened."

  "They are frightened, Lieutenant Kirby, and perhaps you can enlighten us as to why. We were visited by the guard this afternoon and ordered to stay inside after dark under threat of arrest If more than two of us are seen together, we will be arrested as well for conspiracy to incite rioting."

  'The real message is a verbal one, Mr. Brown. I am ordered first of all to find out whatever you and your friends can share with me about the current state of military affairs in Baltimore. Size of the garrison, state of readiness, and armaments. The political situation as well. And finally to ask if you would be willing to place yourself at the disposal of our forces for a service, which as of yet cannot be discussed"

  Brown finally started to warm to him. The young lieutenant looked and sounded sincere; his enthusiasm for this shadowy work was clearly evident

  "What news, first?" Kane asked, warming up as well.

  "We're coming," Kirby said with a grin. "I can't tell you exactly how or when, but the army is on the march, heading straight to Baltimore. By this time tomorrow this city will be free of the Yankee tyranny."

  Brown and Kane looked at each other and broke into grins. Brown, with a flourish, opened a sideboard and produced a thick-cut glass decanter and three heavy tumblers. Pouring three shots of brandy, he passed them around and silently held his glass aloft

  To hell with the ban on saying it" Kane snapped, "here's to the glorious Confederacy."

  Brown looked over at Kirby. If this was indeed some sort of elaborate trap, to get the two of them to utter a so-called traitorous oath, Kane had just done it Kirby simply grinned

  To the glorious Confederacy," the lieutenant said drained the glass, then was hit an instant later by a spasm of coughing.

  To the glorious Confederacy" Brown whispered still not quite sure if he could believe what was happening. A little more than two years ago he had been dragged out and arrested his right to habeas corpus denied incarcerated without charges in Fort McHenry, and then transported like a common slave, to Fort Warren up in Boston. There he had languished for over a year before finally being released last fall. Never an apology, never a comment about what he had been charged with, just sent home with a stern warning that if he ever uttered a word against the Union, it would be back to prison, and this time they would throw away the keys.