"Jubal Foster, I am tired of waiting for you. I love you, and I know you love me, and I want you to show me right here, right now." She stared into my eyes, then raised herself on her toes and brought her lips to mine. Then she turned and led me back to the blanket. She sat down and gently pulled me down beside her. "Make love to me, Jubal," she whispered. "I've waited my whole life and I don't want to wait any longer."
I lowered my eyes. "Maybe that fella in town was right," I said, my voice cracking. "Maybe it would be better for you to have a whole man."
She reached up and placed her hands on my cheeks. "Stop it, Jubal. I'm in love with you. I always have been, and it's you I want, not one particular part of you; just you."
* * *
We lay beside each other, my one arm holding her, both of hers wrapped around my waist. We dozed, satiated with each other, and I wondered what I had done to deserve what she was offering me. She stirred and reached up and kissed my cheek.
"You know you have to marry me now," she whispered. "If you don't my father will come after you with a gun."
I pulled her closer. "He won't have to do that," I whispered back.
* * *
Chancellorsville, Virginia, 1863
We had spent four months on reconnaissance patrols trying to keep track of Lee's army and determine where Union forces could best attack him again. General Joseph Hooker had been placed in charge of the Army of the Potomac, while General Burnside, following his failure at Fredericksburg, had been banished to the Western Theater where he would not command troops involved in either the defense of Washington or the all-important defeat of Lee's forces.
Fearing an attack on Richmond, Lee had divided his forces, a fact we reported back to General Hooker's subordinates in early February. Convinced our information was inaccurate, we were sent out again and again to reconfirm it. Finally, in late March a captain from the newly established Bureau of Military Intelligence accompanied us and was shocked to discover that Lee had truly scattered his forces throughout Virginia, including 15,000 men under General James Longstreet, who had been sent to Norfolk to guard against a Southern push against Richmond. When brought the news, Hooker realized that he had 133,000 well-rested and fully provisioned troops, while Lee's army now numbered under 61,000 poorly supplied men—men who were often hungry and badly clothed. The army's intelligence bureau, using spies recruited among the Southern populace, along with information gathered from prisoners, deserters, slaves, and fleeing Southern refugees, also learned that Longstreet had been relegated to scouring the countryside seeking provisions from farmers and planters, who themselves were nearly destitute.
Once all that information had been gathered, Hooker decided on a move against Chancellorsville in Spotsylvania County, a gateway that would lead directly to Richmond, the seat of the Confederacy.
As we waited for orders to move on Chancellorsville, we continued our forays south, keeping track of Lee's scattered forces, carefully avoiding any engagements with Rebel troops that might give away our plan to attack.
Coming in one night we were greeted by Jemma and Alva with warm cups of coffee. Josiah had been urging them to leave camp and travel with any of several small detachments headed for Washington. Once there they could wait out the war in safety.
"I see you're still here," Abel said, as he accepted a cup from Jemma. "Josiah's right, ya know. You'd be a lot safer in Washington, and ya could even get paid work in a good household there."
"I wants ta stay wit y'all," Jemma said.
"Josiah said he'd come git ya when the war's over," Abel said. "An' I know he's a man keeps his word."
Jemma looked at me and I nodded agreement. "It would be safer for Alva," I said.
"Alva don' wanna leave Massah Abel. She say he saved her an' she gonna stay wit him."
"See, Abel, it's all yer fault," Johnny said. "These girls'd be sittin' pretty in Washington it weren't fer this mysterious hold ya got on 'em." Johnny waggled his fingers to emphasize Abel's powers over them. His clowning made Abel and several other men laugh.
"We'll be leaving for a battle soon," I said, trying to bring the subject back to their need to leave the war zone. "And it won't be safe for you to follow.
"I goes wit Josiah when de moves da hosp'l."
"But Josiah wants you and Alva to go to Washington," I argued.
Jemma just smiled at me. It was a beautiful smile and it told me that any further argument would be a wasted effort.
* * *
Our forces moved out on April 27, crossing the Rappahannock River, then the Rapidan River near Germanna and Ely's Fords, bringing our various corps together outside Chancellorsville on April 30.
Heavy fighting began the following day, and as we prepared to begin our assault Abel nudged me and pointed above our heads, where an aerial balloon floated across enemy lines. We had heard of the new balloon corps that had been formed to report on the size and dispersal of Rebel forces. Once viewing those forces through long telescopes while remaining out of firing range, the balloonists would drop messages to waiting couriers, who would ride back to Hooker's command post and relay the information.
We had been told by our officers that Hooker was employing the tactic to provide more accurate information that would allow our troops to initiate flanking attacks, thereby avoiding the direct frontal assaults that had ended in bloodbaths at Antietam and Fredericksburg.
When Lee surprised everyone by dividing his forces, Hooker ordered our corps to push through in an area known as the Wilderness, a large, nearly impenetrable region of scrub pine and thickets so dense it rendered our superior artillery useless. We were to keep the Rebs from establishing a foothold there, so we moved forward to try to push back the smaller Confederate force.
"Damn," Abel shouted across an opening in the dense brush, "I think we're gonna win ourselves a battle here, boys!"
As we charged ahead under light resistance, an officer rode up and ordered us to stop our advance and move to the rear.
I grabbed his stirrup when his horse drew near. "Why the hell are we retreating?" I demanded. "We finally got these Rebs on the run."
The officer yanked his foot and ripped the stirrup from my hand. "You saw what happened to us at Fredericksburg when we engaged in a frontal assault," he snapped. "General Hooker is going to make Lee bring a frontal assault against us and give him a taste of his own tactics. Now do what you've been told, sergeant, and get your men moving."
* * *
We took up defensive positions around Chancellorsville, an insignificant hamlet that was little more than a large mansion and a few scattered houses at the junction of Orange Turnpike and Orange Plank Road.
Our corps, some 15,000 strong, spent the morning digging defensive positions in preparation for the Rebel attack that General Hooker was trying to promote. To our right, General Oliver Howard commanded 11,000 additional troops guarding against any flanking attack the Rebs might make. Far to our left, the balance of our army, nearly 75,000 men, were prepared to slaughter any major assault by Confederate forces that came out of the dense Wilderness. According to our reports, all we needed now was an all-out attack by Lee's army and victory would be assured.
I had learned over the years of fighting that war involved periods of intense terror, followed by the horror of what we had done, and what had been done to us, followed again by a seemingly endless period of boredom while we waited for the terror to return. Now we were nervously enjoying the boredom.
"Maybe Lee'll be too smart ta attack us," Johnny said. "If he's been kickin' our butts by layin' back an' waitin' fer us, why in hell's name would he change it now?"
"I hope he does attack," Abel responded. "I think I'd like it a lot better staying right cheer behind this trench wall an' takin' potshots at the Rebs as they come at us, instead a runnin' up some hill inta their teeth like we done at Marye's Heights over ta Fredericksburg. That was a livin' hell."
"Either way there's going to be Southern boys trying to kill us,
" I said. "So make sure your weapons are cleaned and loaded and that you've got enough cartridges for your rifles and sidearms."
"Yes, Mother," Johnny said, and grinned at me. "You sure do like bein' a sergeant, don't ya, Jubal?"
"Just do it," I replied, ignoring the jibe.
Actually, I did like having the rank. Not because I particularly cared about telling people what to do, but because it gave me some small degree of control over what was happening to me and the men I was fighting alongside. According to my superior officers, my only response was to be "yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir," every time they issued an order. But in the heat of an attack it did give me the ability to order my men to take cover when Rebel fire was at its most withering, or to order my squad to end an assault when the slaughter of enemy forces threatened to get out of control. I did not regard myself as a butcher, and I certainly did not accept the idea of becoming cannon fodder at the whim of some general. The rank gave me some ability to control both.
* * *
There were about five hundred yards between our forces and General Howard's troops, and I decided to go down the line with Abel and see what their exact position was. The men were on edge and I did not want them firing on our own troops if they moved toward us in the dark.
To reach Howard's position we cut back well behind the lines and moved down to a hill overlooking his position.
Abel pointed down at the 11,000 troops that stretched out before us. "They ain't got any trenches dug or anythin' else," he said. "An' best I kin see is all they got is two artillery pieces pointed out at that there Orange Plank Road where any flankin' attack is likely ta come from. Does that make sense ta ya, Jubal?"
"No, it doesn't." I thought about it and shrugged. "Maybe Howard is trying to lure a flanking attack in. Maybe he's got men hidden farther out where we can't see them."
"I sure hope so," Abel said. "Cause them boys down there sure look like sittin' ducks ta me."
It was three o'clock when we returned to our unit and there was still no sign of a Rebel attack. Josiah came up with three other litter-bearers and squatted down beside us.
"Where's Jemma and Alva?" Abel asked.
"They up at the hospital helpin' the nurses get ready," he said. He reached out and handed Abel a small item tightly wrapped in bandaging material.
"Wha's this?" Abel asked.
"Alva sent it fer ya," Josiah said.
Abel unwrapped the small parcel and held up a tiny doll. "An' wha's this?" he asked.
A wide grin spread across Josiah's face. "It's a voodoo doll ta protect ya in battle." He reached into his shirt and pulled out a similar doll. "Jemma gave me this un t'other day."
Johnny began waggling his fingers again and let out a low, mournful wail. "You really spooky now, Abel," he teased. "But I was you, I'd still keep yer head down—an' yer fat ass."
"I ain't got a fat ass," Abel said, grinning back at him.
"Oh, yes ya do," Johnny snapped back. "Tha's why I always stay behind ya. I use yer fat ass fer cover."
The sound of gunfire ended the bantering. It was coming from Howard's position off to our right. It was sporadic at first, and then became more sustained, lasting for almost an hour. Our officers ordered us to hold our position. The attack on Howard's position was certain to be a flanking attack they were well prepared to meet. We were to concentrate on the attack that would come straight at us.
As we focused on the area in front of us, small elements of Howard's troops began to filter into our ranks. I grabbed a sergeant and asked him what had happened.
He raised his arms and let them fall helplessly to his sides. "We was jus' gettin' settled in fer dinner 'bout an hour ago. Even had our rifles stacked, figgerin' there weren't gonna be no fightin' today, it startin' ta get dark an all. Then all hell broke loose. Rebs from Stonewall Jackson's army came outta them woods screamin' like banshees, an' was all over us afore we could even git ta our guns. Some managed ta get away, some managed ta fall back an' set up a perimeter. But a whole passel of 'em got captured without firin' a shot—maybe three, four thousand—an' a whole bunch more got slaughtered. Now they orderin' us back over cheer."
I stared at him. "So you never dug in, and you didn't have any troops hidden farther away?"
He shook his head. "When we first got there I tol' my men ta start diggin' in, but an officer come along an' tol' us ta stop an' jus' keep our men ready ta move. Well, they're movin' now. Some ta the graveyard, some ta the hospital, an' a whole lot more ta a Reb prison."
* * *
No attack came that night and word came down the line that Stonewall Jackson had been wounded and that a renewed attack had been stalled while the Rebs assigned a new commander to take over his army. Still, our troops had little sleep that night, and when dawn broke we were laying behind our trench walls scouring the opposite tree line for any sign of Rebel movement.
The attack came at midmorning as forces under the command of General J.E.B. Stuart launched a massive assault all along the front. Thousands of Reb infantry came pouring out of the woods which were now smoking and burning from heavy Union artillery fire.
"Make your shots count!" I shouted as our men opened up on the advancing Rebs. I took careful aim myself, and knocked down a man about a hundred yards out, too far to know if he was young or old or in between. He just flew back and I knew from the way he landed, arms and legs flapping, that he was dead before he hit the ground. I drew in a breath, let it out slowly, and fired again, and another Reb crumpled to his knees.
Artillery fire opened up behind us, howitzer canisters of grapeshot bursting about ninety yards away. I saw one man fly into the air, his leg torn from his body and going off in another direction. Still the Rebs kept coming, screaming their frightening Rebel Yell like savages. I saw one of our men rear up, preparing to break ranks and run, and I moved up behind him and slammed him back into the ground. I leaned forward and hissed into his ear, "You run and I will shoot you down. You are not gonna panic this line."
He glanced back over his shoulder and I could see he was no more than eighteen, nineteen years old. "I'm all right, sergeant. I'm all right now," he said.
I left him and went back along the line of men calling out encouragement I did not feel myself, then dropping down and firing again and again and again.
We were ordered to fall back an hour later and we abandoned Chancellorsville to the Rebs and took up a defensive position encircling a river crossing known as United States Ford, our last remaining open line of retreat. We fought there throughout the next day, repelling one Rebel assault after another in the bloodiest battle any of us had yet seen, and when the day ended our troops fell exhausted where they stood.
I moved down the line looking for wounded who needed attention, calling in Josiah and the other litter-bearers whenever I found one. One man was curled into a ball, his head pressed into the ground, and I reached down and turned him over to check for wounds. It was the boy who had nearly broken ranks the previous day. He stared back at me blindly, a gaping whole in his throat where a minie ball had cut off his life.
He might still be alive if you'd let him run, I told myself, knowing it was something I could not have done, grateful I would never have to explain to his family that their boy was dead because I made him stay and fight.
In the predawn hours we retreated back across the Rappahannock River, exhausted, with the smell of another defeat filling our nostrils. Officers rode up and down the line telling us we had not been defeated, that Lee had lost 13,000 of his 52,000-man force—men who the South could not replace.
Johnny, his face covered with grime, stared at me. "Tha's right, ol' General Lee can't call up more men ta take their place cause he ain't got 'em ta call up." He grinned bitterly. "Not like us. We got all the boys we need ta throw inta this slaughterhouse."
* * *
The next morning, while we were awaiting word that a truce had been called so we could cross the river and retrieve our dead, Bobby Suggs stoppe
d by our camp and pulled Johnny aside. A few minutes later Johnny knelt down beside me and told me he wanted to go off with Suggs and some of his friends to "scrounge up" some extra provisions.
"If the Rebs can't find enough to feed their own men, what the hell do you expect to find?" I asked.
"They jus' ain't good scroungers like we are," Johnny said with a tired grin.
"Go on," I said. "But you hear the bugler blowing a ceasefire, it means we're going out to collect our dead, and I want you back to help us."
"I'll be back." Johnny winked at me. "I'll see if I kin git ya a bit of bacon, or somethin' ta make ya happier."
"Just get back when you hear the bugler," I said.
Josiah arrived at camp an hour later and came straight up to Abel and me. "Abel, ya gots ta get ta the field hospital," he said. "We got hit by a stray artillery roun', an' Alva gone an' got herself wounded."
I watched Abel's face turn pale. "How bad?" he asked, grabbing Josiah's shirt. "How bad is she hurt?"
"She ain't bad, jus' a flesh wound in her leg, but she in a lotta pain an' she callin' fer her Massah Abel."
Abel let out a long, relieved breath. He looked at me, his eyes pleading.
"You better go," I said. "And you tell Jemma this means she has to take Alva to Washington as soon as she's able to travel."
"I'll tell her," Abel said, and glanced at Josiah. "But she don' even listen ta him, an' he's promisin' ta marry her."
I smiled at Josiah, feeling a sudden release from the battle we had fought, feeling human again. "You sure you want to marry that woman?" I asked. "She is sure a handful of female."
Josiah grinned back at me. "She sure is, an' tha's jus' why I wants her."
Chapter Nineteen
Jerusalem's Landing, Vermont, 1865
When Johnny Came Marching Home Page 19