The Way of All Soldiers (Gone For Soldiers)

by Jeffry S. Hepple

“As do I.” Stoneman stood up and shook Buford’s hand. “Before this war’s over the Union’s going to smarten up and realize how valuable light cavalry can be.”

  “I sure hope you’re right, General.”

  “Good luck to you, General.”

  Buford chuckled. “General. Wait ‘till Pea finds out. He’s never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

  “Have you had any word about him?”

  “Yes, sir. I received a telegram this morning from his aunt. They’re safe in New Jersey and Pea is out of bed on crutches already.”

  “Truly? I was under the impression that he was in very poor health.”

  “I thought he was at death’s door when we found him in that stinking prison, but he started recovering from the minute that he saw us.”

  Stoneman nodded. “Despair is a killer.”

  “Yes, sir. Just knowing that he had a fighting chance made him stronger. Of course, his aunt brought expert medical help. Those people know some things that our Army surgeons should learn.”

  “Perhaps Paul will be with you by the time the Army of Virginia is organized.”

  “I’ll start looking for him to show up, ready for duty in a month. Do you think the Army of Virginia is gonna be organized by then?”

  Stoneman hesitated. “I told you that there’s some difficulty choosing a commander.”

  “Yes, sir. But you didn’t explain. Isn’t General Frémont the ranking officer?”

  “President Lincoln has a low opinion of General Frémont and he’s appointed General Pope instead of Frémont. General Frémont’s very well connected politically and he’s put up a fight.”

  “What’s the President’s complaint about Frémont?”

  “When he was in Missouri, Frémont imposed martial law, confiscated private property of secessionists and emancipated the slaves. Lincoln sent Paul Van Buskirk’s Uncle Robert to Missouri to straighten it out. And Robert did. But Lincoln’s never trusted Frémont since.”

  “What’s your opinion of Frémont?”

  Stoneman shrugged. “In a word: unpredictable.”

  “Then I hope he’s not the commander of the Army of Virginia,” Buford said. “I’ve had about all the unpredictability I can stand.”

  July 14, 1862

  Washington, D.C.

  When Abraham Lincoln granted command of the Army of Virginia to General John Pope, General John C. Frémont, commander of the Mountain Department, resigned from the U.S. Army. Frémont had expected his political allies to come to his aid but no one did.

  Under General Pope, the Mountain Division became I Corps, commanded by General Franz Sigel, General Nathaniel P. Banks’s Department of the Shenandoah became II Corps, and General Irvin McDowell’s Department of the Rappahannock became III Corps.

  Today, a parade in Pope’s honor was being held and General John Buford was mounted on his horse in front of his brigade at the center of the formation. Immediately to Buford’s front, General Pope had just mounted the speaker’s platform.

  “Let us understand each other,” Pope shouted into a swivel-mounted megaphone. “I have come to you from the West, where we have always seen the backs of our enemies; from an army whose business it has been to seek the adversary, and to beat him when he was found; whose policy has been attack and not defense. In but one instance has the enemy been able to place our Western armies in defensive attitude.

  “I presume that I have been called here to pursue the same system and to lead you against the enemy. It is my purpose to do so, and that speedily. I am sure you long for an opportunity to win the distinction you are capable of achieving. That opportunity I shall endeavor to give you. Meantime I desire you to dismiss from your minds certain phrases which I am sorry to find so much in vogue amongst you. I hear constantly of ‘taking strong positions and holding them,’ of ‘lines of retreat,’ and of ‘bases of supplies.’ Let us discard such ideas. The strongest position a soldier should desire to occupy is one from which he can most easily advance against the enemy.

  “Let us study the probable lines of retreat of our opponents, and leave our own to take care of themselves. Let us look before us, and not behind. Success and glory are in the advance, disaster and shame lurk in the rear.

  “Let us act on this understanding, and it is safe to predict that your banners shall be inscribed with many a glorious deed and that your names will be dear to your countrymen forever.”

  With the preamble drumbeat, Buford raised his sword over his head. “Present…” His command was simultaneous with the Corps Commanders and the color guard. “…arms.” He brought the hilt of the sword down to his chest and watched Pope, who brought his hand up to salute as the first notes of the Star-Spangled Banner sounded in the morning air.

  Buford’s eyes wandered the reviewing stands behind Pope where gaggles of field grade officers and politicians with their well-dressed ladies were standing in respect to the National Anthem. In the center, almost directly behind Pope, he spotted the face of his wife, Pattie. Her right hand was over her heart, her chin was held high and her eyes were fixed on the flag being presented by the color guard. In the eight years they had been married they had spent less than three together. Seeing her like this, so near, yet so detached made him wonder at his choice of careers.

  When the National Anthem had ended, the long, boring speeches began. At one point Buford looked beyond the speaker and saw that Pattie was gone. A familiar emptiness flowed through him, but he shook it off as he always did.

  July 18, 1862

  Richmond, Virginia

  On the 15th of July, when General Jeb Stuart rode into Richmond with nearly two hundred captured Union soldiers, three hundred horses and mules and wagonloads of supplies, he was greeted by throngs of cheering admirers. As Stuart had predicted, his presence north of McClellan’s army had been observed and reported to the Washington press who had then raised the alarm of a threatened invasion. Scrambling for good news, the Southern papers invented stories of the brave and flamboyant General Stuart which had raised him to celebrity status equal to that of Stonewall Jackson. As Stuart had also predicted, Lee was not displeased with the positive publicity and, as promised, promoted Stuart to the rank of major general, upgrading his command to a cavalry division.

  Stuart waved the transfer papers in his hand at Johnny Van Buskirk. “You should have talked to me before applying for a transfer. I just recommended you for decoration and promoted you to lieutenant colonel. This makes me look like a fool.”

  Johnny laughed. “Listen to yourself, Beauty. Your only thought is how it affects you.”

  Stuart stammered for a moment, then wadded the transfer request into a ball and threw it toward the trashcan. “Your request is denied, Colonel. You will take command of Wilson’s regiment and we will not speak of this further.”

  “Should we speak of the recently departed Colonel Wilson, or of the thirty-three men of his regiment who died needlessly so that you could gain another headline in the Washington papers?”

  “This is war. People die in wars. When are you going to reconcile yourself to that fact?”

  Johnny bit back the angry response that he wanted to throw at Stuart and took a deep breath. “Have you noticed that we’re receiving almost no replacements, General? The last three men that were assigned to us were mounted on nags and one of the men couldn’t even stay in the saddle. None of them had even seen a rifle before. All three are now cooks and we’ve probably been eating their horses.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “We can’t afford to get into costly battles with the Yankees for the sake of your hunger for fame. The North has a larger population, more factories, more money, more everything. Their cavalry gets bigger, stronger and smarter every day, while we squander what little we have for your vanity.”

  “You have your orders, Colonel,” Stuart said angrily. “You’re dismissed.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Johnny opened the door of Stuart’s office and, in his haste to leave, coll
ided with Robert E. Lee. “Oh, sorry, sir.” He backed up to give the General room.

  “Ah, Colonel Van Buskirk,” Lee said. “I was just coming to speak to General Stuart about you. I suppose I could speak to you both at the same time.”

  Stuart was standing behind his desk. “Of course, General. Would you like us to come to your office?”

  “No, no. This will be fine.” Lee walked to one of the chairs and sat down. “Please be seated, gentlemen.”

  Stuart sat back down behind his desk and Johnny closed the door before taking the other chair next to Lee and across from Stuart.

  “I wanted to ask you if you could spare Colonel Van Buskirk, General Stuart,” Lee said. “My staff is woefully small and I have abused Major Wentworth until the poor man has become quite ill.”

  Stuart looked at Johnny suspiciously, but he saw clearly that Johnny was surprised by Lee’s request. “Colonel Van Buskirk would be sorely missed, General Lee. But, of course, if you really need him…”

  “Thank you, General Stuart,” Lee interrupted. “I do regret depriving you of the service of Colonel Van Buskirk, but it is necessary.” He got up. “Of course if Colonel Van Buskirk wishes to decline, that would be another matter.”

  “I serve at your pleasure, sir,” Johnny said, getting to his feet.

  “Thank you,” Lee replied. “Please come along then. We have much to do. Thank you, General Stuart.”

  “Yes, sir,” a bewildered Stuart replied.

  Johnny hurried to open the door for Lee, then followed him out.

  “Do you know Lieutenant John Mosby?” Lee asked as they followed the hallway toward his office.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you aware that he was captured last week?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “He’s being held at the Old Capitol Prison in Washington. I would like to have him exchanged immediately.” Lee opened the door to his outer office and waved his hand to send everyone back to their business as he walked through to open his private office door. “I don’t know who to contact. Major Wentworth managed those details.”

  “I can find out, sir.”

  “Good. I’m eager to speak to Lieutenant Mosby as soon as practicable.” He pointed to a closed door off the outer office. “That’s your office. I think you know the rest of my staff. Please come to my office if you need anything.”

  July 19, 1862

  Corinth, Mississippi

  Robert Van Buskirk put a wine bottle, two wine glasses and two cigars on Grant’s desk. “President Lincoln summoned Halleck to Washington to become General-in-Chief of all the Union armies.”

  Grant looked at the bottle, then at Robert. “Champagne?”

  “Non-alcoholic.”

  “I’ve already been informed about Halleck.” Grant took his knife from his pocket, chose a cigar and cut off the end. “Buell’s Army of the Ohio’s been separated from Halleck’s former command. I have the Army of the Tennessee and the Army of the Mississippi, or whatever it’s to be called now. Buell reports directly to Halleck.”

  Robert’s smile faded. “Guess we should save that bottle for another day.”

  “It’ll just get broken.” Grant lit his cigar and began opening the bottle. “What’s this I hear about Nancy leaving you?”

  “You should stop listening to gossip. She didn’t leave me, she just went home.” Robert pulled a chair closer to Grant’s desk and made a production of trimming and lighting his cigar. “She was bored here and wants to do something to contribute to the war effort.”

  “Is that all there is to it?”

  “Well, the truth is that we’ve discovered that we don’t have much in common when Anna’s not with us to hold up both sides of the conversation.”

  “You were both single too long before you were married.”

  “Oh, that’s a load of bull, Sam. You were twenty-six when you got married.”

  Grant poured the bubbly liquid into the two glasses. “Yeah, you’re right, Professor. What do I know?” He handed a glass to Robert, then raised his in a toast. “May we be happy and may our enemies know it.”

  Robert clinked his glass against Grant’s. “May God always hold you in the palm of His hand.”

  July 20, 1862

  Fort Monroe, Virginia

  Fort Monroe, an island-like peninsula at the northeast corner of Hampton Roads, had remained in Union hands since the beginning of the war and, among other things, currently served as a mail and prisoner exchange point.

  Confederate Colonel Johnny Van Buskirk traveled to Fort Monroe under a flag of truce with four recently captured Federal enlisted men in chains. Until now, Lincoln had refused to grant wartime rights to the Confederacy and no formal terms of exchange had been negotiated. The reality of overflowing prisons was, however, trumping Lincoln’s stubbornness, and informal prisoner exchanges had become common.

  “By agreement between Generals Robert E. Lee and General George McClellan, I’m here to exchange these four private soldiers for Lieutenant John Mosby.” Johnny held the exchange papers toward a gaggle of Union soldiers who were seated at desks throughout the room.

  “Keys?” a Federal Colonel asked, getting to his feet.

  Johnny gave him the written orders and shackle keys.

  The colonel removed the shackles from the soldiers, then nodded to a sergeant. “Fetch Lieutenant Mosby.” He turned back to Johnny. “You can wait over there.” He pointed to a bench by the windows.

  “Thank you.” Johnny walked to the window and looked out at Hampton Roads.

  When Virginia seceded, John Mosby had enlisted as a private in William “Grumble” Jones’s Washington Mounted Rifles, which had been in Jeb Stuart’s command during the Battle of Manassas. After that battle, Stuart had assigned Mosby to his scouts and sent the scouts forward during his now famous ride around McClellan. Mosby had been captured ten days ago by Union cavalry only a few miles away.

  “Here’s your man, Colonel,” a Union sergeant said. “We didn’t shackle him like you done our boys.”

  Johnny gave the sergeant a chilling look. “Your boys aren’t gentlemen and they needed shackles.” He shook Mosby’s hand. “Let’s get out of here before we get stupid from breathing the same air as this Yankee.”

  The Union colonel put his hand on the sergeant’s shoulder to restrain him. “Move along, Colonel, before we forget that you’re carrying a white flag.”

  “You get to feelin’ froggy, take a leap,” Mosby suggested.

  Johnny waited a moment to see if there would be an answer and when nothing else was said, walked to the door, opened it and held it for Mosby while looking at the Union soldiers. “I’d be glad to see any of you paper-pushers on the battlefield.” He followed Mosby out and let the door slam shut. “That way.” Johnny pointed toward the fort’s west entrance.

  “I see you’ve been promoted, sir. What’s the shoulder rope for?” Mosby asked as they walked out into the sunlight.

  “I’m General Lee’s new adjutant. You don’t look as if you’ve been mistreated,” Johnny replied.

  “I’ve been living and eating better than I have for a long time, sir,” Mosby said with a chuckle.

  Johnny pointed. “That’s our boat at the dock. We better get down there before you decide that you’d prefer to stay here.”

  Mosby shook his head. “The best food and softest bed can’t offset the suffering of losing a man’s freedom, sir.”

  “You did some time in prison as a youngster, did you not?”

  “I did indeed, sir. When I was nineteen I shot a notorious bully who had threatened me.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “No, sir. But I was prosecuted and found guilty of misdemeanor unlawful shooting, and sentenced to a year in jail plus a five hundred dollar fine.”

  “That seems harsh for a misdemeanor.”

  “I only served nine months.”

  “Was your sentence commuted or were you released early for good behavior?”

  “
Neither, sir. I was pardoned and my fine was refunded. During my confinement I began studying the law, but I surely hated being confined.”

  Johnny nodded.

  “I should add that, although I hated losing my freedom, the experience was good for me because I continued studying the law after I was released.”

  Johnny nodded again. “I read that you were a lawyer before you enlisted.”

  “Why were you reading about me?”

  “Just curious to learn why General Lee would put a Lieutenant at the top of the exchange list.”

  Mosby grinned. “And did you learn the reason?”

  Johnny shrugged. “No, but I think I can guess.”

  “I’d be very surprised if that was true, sir.”

  Johnny looked at him. “Well let’s start with what we know: Since the Yankee Navy took Hampton Roads, we’ve had no way to watch the Yankees’ shipping activities. And since you’ve been with us, you’ve been more spy than scout.”

  Mosby smiled. “Both those statements are true, sir.”

  “And now you’ve had ten days to observe the happenings in both Washington and Hampton,” Johnny said.

  Mosby laughed. “Glad you’re on our side or I’d be hanging from a Yankee gallows as a spy.”

  July 23, 1862

  Fort Monroe, Virginia

  Robert E. Lee was listening carefully to newly promoted Captain John Mosby while Johnny Van Buskirk made notes.

  “President Lincoln called in General John Pope from the west to command his new Army of Virginia and General Frémont resigned in protest,” Mosby was saying.

  “Do you know what units will serve in this new command?” Lee asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Mosby replied. “As of now: three corps under General Franz Sigel, General Nathaniel Banks and General Irvin McDowell, plus a cavalry brigade under John Buford. But when I was at Fort Monroe I saw thousands of troops under Ambrose Burnside coming from North Carolina to reinforce Pope.”

  “They’re going to try for Richmond again,” Johnny said.