The Confederate Union War

by Alan Sewell

  “I was hoping to use Stuart in Illinois,” replied Lee. “I wanted to send him on a long-stop between Grant’s lines and Chicago.”

  “I understand it’s an imposition,” replied McClellan. “And of course it’s your decision. But I would suggest that it’s at least as important for us to disarm the Rebels by demolishing their weapons manufactories as it is to defeat them in the field. Jeb’s the only cavalry commander I trust to carry out this raid and then get his men back to our lines. And even without Jeb you will still have Stoneballs Jackson to command your mobile forces in the West.”

  “Yes,” replied Lee, “That is the case. I would be ungenerous to demand all of our mobile forces. I will assign Captain Stuart to your command.”

  “Thank you, General Lee, you are most gracious.”

  “What’s next?” asked Davis.

  “The time phasing of the plan concerns me,” said Stanton. “Winters are hard in northern Illinois. If we’re going to make a late season push toward Chicago we have to get there before winter closes in on us. We can’t be stuck outside the city when the blizzards come. The season is short for the landing in Boston too. Hurricanes are rampant in the early summer and the nor’easters arrive in late October. Those storms will put our shipping at risk. We shouldn’t land an army in Boston unless we’re certain that we can supply it. Do we really have enough time to capture Boston and Chicago before winter forces us to suspend our operations? Would it be better to wait until next May to commence these operations?”

  All looked at McClellan.

  “We must commence the offensives now,” argued McClellan. “That is our best guarantee of success. Delaying will allow the Insurgents to improve their position more than we can improve ours.

  “They have about two hundred thousand men in the field at this moment. In six months they may have four hundred thousand. In a year they may have a million.

  “They are defending Boston and Portland with a few dozen untrained artillerists in the harbor forts and nothing at all on the mainland. In a year they’ll have Boston and Portland defended with underwater torpedoes and heavy artillery manned by trained gunners emplaced on the mainland and protected by thousands of men in fortifications.

  “They have fortified the bluffs of the Mississippi. They haven’t fortified the Wabash or the Illinois. Let’s not give them time to think of doing it.

  “They have got the British to guarantee their access to the sea by way of Montreal. A year from now they may be able to persuade the British to guarantee their possession of the New England ports.

  “They have been able to raise an army to contest our forces on land, but they have acquired only a handful of ships and loyal crews to contest us by sea. They will soon think to construct a formidable navy to defend their ports or carry on warfare against us on the high seas with commerce raiders and privateers.

  “They’ve manned their front lines at the contested points in Illinois and Pennsylvania but they haven’t yet built up a strategic reserve that could take the offensive against us.

  “They have made some nuisance raids from Kansas and Iowa to tie down our Missouri militias guarding the western frontier, but they haven’t yet raided across the Ohio River into Kentucky and Virginia, nor have they tried to advance into Maryland and Delaware.

  “They are clever. Let’s not give them time to contemplate ways to make the war more difficult than it already is. Let’s keep them on the defensive and devoting their full attention to reacting to our operations and not to contemplating operations against us.”

  Davis held up his hand to stop McClellan who was prepared to bring up many more perils of delaying the offensive. “I think you’ve convinced us beyond any reasonable doubt of the necessity for taking the offensive in October. Does anybody still object to the October commencement?”

  This time there was silence.

  “What say you, General Lee? Did your reconnaissance to Indiana and Illinois cause you any misgivings about your assigned role in executing the plan?”

  “No, sir,” replied Lee. “My reconnaissance has satisfied me that the Wabash River will be ideal for a breakthrough. It is fordable but scarcely defended. The railroads approaching the front are sufficient to concentrate the one hundred and twenty regiments allocated to the breakthrough phase of the campaign. The terrain is flat and therefore suitable for my men to cut across Grant’s rear and surround his army before he is aware that a major attack is underway.”

  “Well, that leaves us with the question of reinforcement and resupply,” said Davis. He addressed Secretary of the Navy Buchanan. “Frank, it’s up to you to charter all the ships we need to move Mac’s National Army into the New England ports. Charter what you need in New Orleans to keep Lee’s supplies moving up the Mississippi River. Mr. Stanton is a lawyer. He’ll know how to charter the ships through civilian agencies so that the Rebels don’t get wind that this is a military operation.”

  “And so that we don’t run the price of the charters up,” added Stanton.

  Davis addressed Stanton. “It will also be your job to keep the railroads moving. Railroad men can be stubborn. Make sure they understand the importance of this operation. And tell them to keep quiet about it.”

  “Of course,” said Stanton. “I’m an old railroad lawyer. I’ll sue them if they don’t comply.” The others laughed, but Davis had the impression that it wasn’t in Mr. Stanton’s nature to joke about using his authority to accomplish what had to be accomplished and worry about the legal niceties later on. That could be a useful trait during time of war.

  9

  Charleston, South Carolina, September 11, 1861

  “Damn that Jefferson Davis!” William Yancey said to his friend Robert Rhett, publisher of the influential Southern Rights paper, The Charleston Mercury. “He can’t do anything right. I handed him the presidency of the Southern Republic on a silver platter at the Charleston Convention and he spit on the plate! Then I run the Free States out of the Union, and he goes to start a war to bring them back in! What the hell ever got into him?”

  Yancey held up the latest edition of The Charleston Mercury. He pointed to the headline: Davis Rejects Peace Offer. Says Confederate Union is Indivisible.

  “Stephen Douglas sunk his hooks into him before he passed away,” answered Rhett, sitting on the small part of his office sofa that wasn’t piled high with copies of old newspapers. “So did Buchanan, McClellan, Stanton, Andy Johnson, Alexander Stephens, and Robert E. Lee. They’re all Unionists first and Southerners second.”

  “He sure didn’t have room for any of us at the table, did he?” added Yancey, lounging in the chair under the open window. “Not a single Southern Rights man in the Cabinet. Not a one! He tried to shut me up by sending me out of the country on that wild goose chase as Minister Plenipotentiary to Great Britain.”

  “I remember you telling me about that,” said Rhett. “Didn’t he cook up some cock-and-bull about wanting you to go to Britain…something to do with the Brits brokering a deal for Spain to sell us Cuba in return for our letting the Europeans set themselves up in Mexico.”

  “What a load of bull that turned out to be! I’m sure Douglas invented that one up all by himself. Davis isn’t devious enough to concoct those kinds of schemes.” Yancey grimaced as he remembered Douglas’ chicanery.

  Rhett rolled his eyes. “Nobody in either party could ever match Douglas in the art of scheming! I don’t think even old Abe Lincoln, damn his scurrilous soul, is half as devious.”

  “No,” said Yancey, in reluctant agreement. “Mr. Lincoln is crazy, but he’s honest about what he believes in. Jefferson Davis is like that too. I can’t say as I find fault with him personally, but he’s trying to kill our hopes for a Southern Republic just as dead as old Abe would have if he’d been elected President of the old United States. We could have seceded from Old Abe’s government. We can’t get out from under Jefferson Davis.”

  “It does seem that Davis thinks more of the Yankees than he does of u
s,” said Rhett. “I can remember reprinting his speeches during those summers when he vacationed in Massachusetts and Maine. He loved it up there. He went on and on praising the Yankees as being so smart and prosperous. I think he wants to win this war, get those people back in here with us, and and then reconstitute the Union along Douglas’ principle of Popular Sovereignty. I guess he figures that he’ll be able to keep a lid on the Abolitionists and we’ll be able to take our Negroes into the Territories.”

  “He’s wrong about that,” retorted Yancey. “The Abolitionists will never recognize our right to take our Negroes with us into the territories. They stole Kansas right out from under us, didn’t they? If they can steal a territory right next to the Slave State of Missouri, you know damn well they’re going to beat us out of Colorado, Utah, and Nevada. Fat chance of us ever getting California either.” Yancey’s face grew red. “And the hell of it is, Horace Greeley was ready to broker a peace that gave us all of those territories! I consider it treason that Davis rejected the offer.”

  Rhett leaned back and threw his feet over the coffee table, also cluttered with yellowed newspapers. “I suppose you’re right about Davis being crazy for wanting to fight to force the Yankees back in with us, when we could have had all the land we wanted and then some just for the asking.”

  “Like you said, he’s a Unionist first and a Southerner second,” agreed Yancey. He got up and poured himself another whiskey. He was not a man whose nature craved strong drink, but he was afflicted with painful internal maladies that only alcohol could numb.

  I am dying. I have only a short time left to complete my life’s work of creating an independent Southern Republic. If I fail in this, then I have failed myself and my people.

  Yancey swigged his whiskey then poured another to sip slowly. It did ease the throbbing pain in his kidneys. It jogged his memory to another topic that bothered him.

  “I’m afraid we’re getting some home-grown Abolitionists who might become as obnoxious as the Yankee breed. Crazy Alexander Stephens is running around foaming off at the mouth about a National Slave Code. ‘Slavery with a human face’ he calls it. He has the nerve to propose that the Federal Government should tell us how to run our Niggers!”

  Rhett gritted his teeth. “That’s another thing I never thought I’d never hear from a Southern man. I wouldn’t have believed it possible until I saw the speech with my own eyes. I almost threw up while I was setting the type print it --- especially his words about ‘liberalizing the conditions of Negro servitude.’”

  Yancey winced at the words “liberalizing the conditions of Negro servitude.” He took another swig of whiskey to calm himself. “The slave codes are exclusively the business of the states. Whenever this ‘Nigger Rights’ agitation is brought up to the national level it gets out of hand. Look at Dred Scott. The Abolitionists took that one all the way to the Supreme Court. Stephens has bitten off more than he can chew with this ‘national slave code’ business.”

  “I imagine he’s trying to strengthen slavery by making it more palatable in the Free States,” postulated Rhett. Rhett poured himself a shot of whiskey and stirred it. “He’s cyphering that he can cut the ground out from under the Abolitionists. I think he might even be right. Slaves should have the right to marry and to protect their families from being sold apart.”

  “I don’t know,” replied Yancey. “I think it will cause us more problems. I never like to break my Nigger families up, but there are times when you don’t have any other choice. But the main point is that this is a question for the state governments. The national government has no business inserting itself into the issue.”

  “Yes, that’s so,” replied Rhett. “The national government is inserting itself into all kinds of things it shouldn’t be.” He stood up and looked out the window into the streets. Soldiers wearing the blue of the National Army were everywhere. “What is a National Army doing in Charleston, South Carolina? We have oversubscribed our militia quotas on every call up. Why isn’t the South Carolina Militia good enough for Davis?”

  “That worries me too,” said Yancey in a hushed voice. “The army is supposed to be composed of state militias. The founders knew that a standing army is dangerous. It is prone to becoming loyal to the person of the President and not to the states. In that matter I don’t care whether the President is Davis or Lincoln. Your neighbor can be as much a tyrant as your enemy.”

  Rhett looked out into the harbor. The dockyard was being prepared to begin construction on Atlantic and Poseidon, two seagoing battle cruisers of the modern armored-hull design.

  “I also don’t understand why we need these warships. Most of the old U.S. Navy in New York and Norfolk stayed loyal to us. The Rebels can’t have more than a handful of ships and most of those are decommissioned in dry-dock in Boston and Philadelphia. We don’t need any more ships to deal with them. So who is Davis planning to use them against?”

  “They’re insurance, I suppose,” said Yancey. “Davis wants to let Britain and France know that we can fight them on the high seas if they intervene on behalf of the Rebels. Lord, I hope it doesn’t come to that. The last thing we need is another war.”

  Rhett turned away from the window and paced back into the middle of the office.

  “I’m glad we’ve got the work building them here in Charleston. But we’re going to be paying taxes for the rest of our lives to pay for this war. Half of this war is being financed by bonds underwritten by the New York bankers. They’re taking their seven percent commission off the top and it has to be paid in gold! They’re getting filthy rich while our Southern boys are doing the fighting. Now Davis is planning to issue paper currency. We’ll be forced to take worthless paper money for our trade while the Yankee bondholders have to be paid their interest in gold. Davis is going to conquer the Yankees and then they’ll end up owning us!”

  Yancey guzzled his whiskey to calm his building anger. “Where in the name of hell is the damn Congress! Why aren’t they putting the reins on Davis! We’re about to go over a cliff and they’re sitting on their rear ends doing nothing.”

  “Too many northern men are there, I guess. Before he died Douglas made sure to pack the Congress with men of his own kind. We’ve got phantom senators and congressmen from Indiana, Illinois, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and New York. We have a vice president from Ohio! We might as well have Congressmen representing the moon.”

  “This is not our country any more, no more than it would have been if Mr. Lincoln had been elected.” Yancey uttered the words “Mr. Lincoln” almost fondly, instead of spitting them out with his usual venom. He shuddered with a twinge of anguish while remembering the Douglas / Davis Compact that had saved the Democratic Party from defeat by Mr. Lincoln’s Republicans.

  Mr. Lincoln is the enemy of every Southern man, but oh, how we needed him in the White House! Had he been elected President in 1860 we would have seceded into a Southern Republic. We would have steered our own course free and clear of the Yankees. I wanted a Southern Confederacy, a Confederacy where slaves are subservient to their masters, where states are governed by our plantation aristocracy, and where the national government serves the interests of the states. But, no, Douglas and Davis had to collaborate to murder the Southern Republic before it was born. They have given me a Confederate Union that is going to end up more Yankee-fied than the old United States!

  Yancey gulped another whiskey and this one wasn’t to dull his physical pain.

  10

  Cleveland Ohio, September 20, 1861

  President Lincoln greeted his Joint Cabinet and Congressional Executive Committee as they filed into the parlor of the Hargreaves Mansion. Mrs. Lincoln had taken care, with her own hands, of making sure the Committee meetings were properly catered with food and drink. She, too, greeted the members and asked for their comfort.

  Old bachelor Senator Charles Sumner clasped her hands in his. “Thank you, My Dear, for seeing to our comfort, as you always do!”

  “Yes, a hearty ‘
Thank You’ to our hostess!” said the equally dour Senator Ben Wade.

  “You are very welcome, Sirs,” replied Mrs. Lincoln with a twinkle in her eye.

  Mr. Lincoln smiled to himself. How those old Abolitionists love my Mary! And she, a Southern Belle, from a slave-owning family! They may think of me as an Illinois backwoods ‘sucker’, but she has won their affection by proving herself charming and as up to date on events as they are.

  When all were served and seated Mr. Lincoln opened the meeting.

  “Thank you, members of the Cabinet and Congress for coming here on such short notice. Before we get to today’s urgent topic of discussion, I would like to thank the Congressmen and Senators for your swift ratification of the Commercial Treaty that the Secretary of State has so ably negotiated with the Joint Assembly of East and West Canada. I also congratulate Congress on its prompt passage of the Legal Tender Act. That Act, along with the Canadian Treaty, bids fair to restore the circulation of our nation’s financial life’s blood.”

  The men nodded in affirmation.

  “I’ve asked you here because developments of an urgent military nature were brought to my attention yesterday afternoon by Alan Pinkerton, whose detective agency we have contracted to inform us of events in the Confederation Union.” He held up a binder.

  “The Secretary of War and I have decided that the information is substantial enough to warrant the convening of this emergency meeting. Ben, John, and I will be leaving this afternoon to attend the Free State Rally in Columbus tomorrow. The rally is too important for us to miss. We wanted to make sure the rest of you are apprised of this information so that you will be prepared for any anything that may develop between tomorrow and our return on Friday.”