The Way of All Soldiers (Gone For Soldiers)

by Jeffry S. Hepple

  “Okay,” Paul conceded.

  “Where was McClellan when you delivered your report?” Buford asked after a minute.

  “In his office across from the War Department. Why?”

  “I was just wondering if he was with his troops.”

  “He’s with us in spirit,” Paul said sarcastically. “Via telegraph.”

  “What’s your opinion of attacking Stuart?”

  “I think we could beat him, but the price we’d have to pay could take us out of the upcoming battle.” He gestured toward the mountain. “Without a cavalry, how’s Pope going to know what’s out there?”

  Buford sighed. “Yeah, I know you’re right, but I sure would like to give Stuart a bloody nose.”

  “He’s still three times bigger.”

  “Yeah, but we’re way better now. We can outride, outshoot and outthink him. I’d like a chance to show that to the world.”

  “You may get your chance in the next few days. My advice is to wait.”

  September 9, 1862

  Frederick, Maryland

  Headquarters Army of Northern Virginia

  Special Orders No 191.

  I. The citizens of Fredericktown being unwilling while overrun by members of this army, to open their stores, in order to give them confidence, and to secure to officers and men purchasing supplies for benefit of this command, all officers and men of this army are strictly prohibited from visiting Fredericktown except on business, in which cases they will bear evidence of this in writing from division commanders. The provost-marshal in Fredericktown will see that his guard rigidly enforces this order.

  II. Major Taylor will proceed to Leesburg, Virginia, and arrange for transportation of the sick and those unable to walk to Winchester, securing the transportation of the country for this purpose. The route between this and Culpepper Court-House east of the mountains being unsafe will no longer be traveled. Those on the way to this army already across the river will move up promptly; all others will proceed to Winchester collectively and under command of officers, at which point, being the general depot of this army, its movements will be known and instructions given by commanding officer regulating further movements.

  III. The army will resume its march tomorrow, taking the Hagerstown road. General Jackson’s command will form the advance, and, after passing Middletown, with such portion as he may select, take the route toward Sharpsburg, cross the Potomac at the most convenient point, and by Friday morning take possession of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, capture such of them as may be at Martinsburg, and intercept such as may attempt to escape from Harpers Ferry.

  IV. General Longstreet’s command will pursue the same road as far as Boonsborough, where it will halt, with reserve, supply, and baggage trains of the army.

  V. General McLaws, with his own division and that of General R. H. Anderson, will follow General Longstreet. On reaching Middletown will take the route to Harpers Ferry, and by Friday morning possess himself of the Maryland Heights and endeavor to capture the enemy at Harpers Ferry and vicinity.

  VI. General Walker, with his division, after accomplishing the object in which he is now engaged, will cross the Potomac at Cheek's Ford, ascend its right bank to Lovettsville, take possession of Loudoun Heights, if practicable, by Friday morning, Key’s Ford on his left, and the road between the end of the mountain and the Potomac on his right. He will, as far as practicable, cooperate with General McLaws and Jackson, and intercept retreat of the enemy.

  VII. General D. H. Hill’s division will form the rear guard of the army, pursuing the road taken by the main body. The reserve artillery, ordnance, and supply trains, &c., will precede General Hill.

  VIII. General Stuart will detach a squadron of cavalry to accompany the commands of Generals Longstreet, Jackson, and McLaws, and, with the main body of the cavalry, will cover the route of the army, bringing up all stragglers that may have been left behind.

  IX. The commands of Generals Jackson, McLaws, and Walker, after accomplishing the objects for which they have been detached, will join the main body of the army at Boonsborough or Hagerstown.

  X. Each regiment on the march will habitually carry its axes in the regimental ordnance-wagons, for use of the men at their encampments, to procure wood &c.

  By command of General R. E. Lee

  R. H. Chilton, Assistant Adjutant General

  September 13, 1862

  Best Farm, Maryland

  During the previous night, the 27th Indiana Volunteers of the Union XII Corps had pushed Confederate General D.H. Hill’s headquarters off the high ground toward Frederick and then occupied his position.

  At about 10:00 AM, Corporal Barton W. Mitchell found Sergeant John M. Bloss in his tent cleaning his muddy boots. “Hey Sarge, you need to take a look at this,” Mitchell said, brandishing a piece of dirty, wrinkled paper.

  “What is it?” Bloss asked.

  “It’s special orders from Robert E. Lee to his generals.” He looked at the paper. “Special Orders number a hundred and ninety-one.”

  “Let’s see it.” Bloss held out his hand.

  Mitchell gave it to him. “I was gonna save it for shit paper, but then I noticed the name Robert E. Lee on the bottom.”

  Sergeant Bloss skimmed it and looked at the signature block. “Where did you find this?”

  “Down there in the grass where we stacked arms last night. It was in a envelope marked ‘confidential’ and wrapped around three cigars.”

  “Where’s the cigars?”

  “I didn’t bring ‘em.”

  “You should of.” Bloss folded the paper carefully and put it in his jumper pocket. “If you’d of shared one of them cigars with me I’d of took you with me to show the old man. Since you didn’t, I’m gonna keep all the glory to myself.” He began putting on his still muddy boots.

  “Don’t care,” Mitchell grumbled sullenly.

  Bloss grinned at him. “I was just foolin’ with ya, Mitchell. Soon as I get my boots on, you show me exactly where you found it. Then we’ll take it to the old man together.”

  ~

  Captain Peter Kopp, Commander of Company C, 27th Indiana Volunteers, read the document. “Where did you find this, Sergeant?”

  Sergeant Bloss pointed to Mitchell. “Corporal Mitchell found it in the grass on the back slope, sir. I checked it out. From the way the grass is flattened out, it looks like a good sized field tent was there and tore down in a hurry. Could of been the command tent for the Reb General, sir.”

  “And this was just laying there in the grass?” the Captain asked.

  Mitchell looked down at his feet. “It was in a envelope wrapped around two cigars, sir.” He glanced at Sergeant Bloss to see if he would challenge the number of cigars, but Bloss remained at attention.

  “You better go get the envelope and cigars,” Captain Kopp said. He saw the look on Mitchell’s face. “This could be a hoax or a trap,” he said, waving the paper. “The brand of cigar and any lettering on the envelope might be helpful to determine the authenticity. I’ll give you two of my own cigars in exchange.”

  “Did I say two, sir?” Mitchell asked. “I meant three. The paper were wrapped around three cigars.”

  ~

  Colonel Silas Colgrove, commander of the 27th Indiana Volunteers Regiment, looked up from the paper in his hand. “How did you come into possession of this, Captain Kopp?”

  “One of my men found it near a spot where a Confederate command tent had been, sir. It was in this envelope, wrapped around these three cigars,” Kopp replied, handing the envelope and cigars to the Colonel.

  “That would be General D.H. Hill, Stonewall Jackson’s brother-in-law.” Colgrove sniffed one of the cigars. “I’ll take this to Corps and see what they make of it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kopp saluted and went back to his company.

  Colgrove looked over his shoulder. “Lieutenant Van Buskirk?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Take a squad with you and deliver this to
General Williams.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ~

  General Alpheus S. Williams, in command of XII Corps, gaped at Lieutenant David Van Buskirk. “My God. How tall are you, Lieutenant?”

  “I’m not quite six feet eleven, sir,” Van Buskirk replied.

  Williams chuckled. “You must be the biggest man in the whole army.”

  “That’s possible, sir.”

  Still chuckling, Williams read the special order and handed it to an aide. “Is this the signature of R. H. Chilton?”

  “Yes, sir,” the aide replied. “And I can confirm that he’s Lee’s assistant adjutant general.”

  “Make a copy of that, then encode and send it to Generals McClellan and Halleck,” Williams said. “Send the original with the envelope and cigars to the Secretary of War with a platoon of cavalry to guard the dispatch rider.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Williams looked up at Van Buskirk. “You’re to take the copy to the War Department by a different route.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ~

  General George B. McClellan, the commander of the Army of the Potomac, was at a citizens’ meeting in Frederick when he was handed the decoded telegram with the text of Special Order 191. After reading it, he threw up his hands in excitement. “Now I know what to do.”

  An aide stepped closer. “Sir, you’re being observed,” the aide whispered. He looked meaningfully at the assembled civilians.

  McClellan nodded and lowered his voice. “Here’s a paper with which, if I cannot whip Bobby Lee, I will be willing to go home.”

  ~

  Near Leesburg, Lieutenant Van Buskirk’s detail was attacked by a detachment of Stuart’s cavalry. After a fierce fight, in which all the Union soldiers were wounded, Van Buskirk chewed up and swallowed the copy of Lee’s special order.

  September 13, 1862

  Hagerstown, Maryland

  Johnny Van Buskirk knocked on the closed door, then pushed it open a crack. “I’m sorry to disturb you, General Lee, but General Stuart is here with what he thinks may be important information.”

  Lee had been sleeping in his rocking chair and took the blanket off his legs. “Yes. Give me a moment and then send him in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Johnny closed the door. “He was asleep and needs a moment. I don’t think he’s had a full night’s sleep in the whole time I’ve known him.”

  Stuart nodded. “I wouldn’t bother him if it wasn’t important.”

  “I know you wouldn’t, General.”

  “Please come in, General Stuart,” Lee called.

  Johnny opened the door, stepped back to let Stuart in and then closed the door.

  Stuart saluted and waited for Lee to answer. “My deepest apologies for disturbing you, sir.”

  Lee was seated behind a desk. “Think nothing of it. Colonel Van Buskirk says you have important information.”

  “The truth is that I’m not sure if it’s important, sir. I was approached a short time ago by a farmer from Frederick Town who saw McClellan receive a message that excited him.”

  “Who was excited, General Stuart? The farmer or General McClellan?”

  “General McClellan was, sir. He said something like: ‘I know what to do now’ and then something about the message being the key to whipping Bobby Lee.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Not quite, sir. One of my squadrons captured a squad of grenadiers from the 27th Indiana, who were headed toward Washington carrying a dispatch.”

  “What was in the dispatch?”

  “The officer ate it before we could stop him, sir. He refused to tell us what it was, but one of the enlisted men said it was a Confederate order. He didn’t know anything else.” Stuart hesitated for a moment. “The 27th Indiana Volunteers captured General D.H. Hill’s position last night after dark, sir. It’s possible that something important was left behind.”

  Lee stroked his beard. “It may be that our plans have been compromised.” He got up and walked to his ever-present map. “Our forces are very scattered at the moment. As a precaution we must consolidate them as soon as is practicable.” He gestured toward the door. “Would you please call Colonel Van Buskirk for me, General?”

  “Yes, sir.” Stuart opened the door. “Johnny. He needs you.” He went back into the room and waited.

  “Yes, sir?” Johnny asked as he came in and closed the door.

  “Please tell General Longstreet to march his two divisions to Boonsboro and be prepared to defend South Mountain.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “General Stuart, please patrol all the main mountain passes to give us warning if General McClellan chooses to attack. He is by nature a cautious man and thus not likely to divide his army, but he will instead concentrate his forces on one objective. That might give us an opportunity to defeat him, if you can give us fair warning.”

  “I’ll do it, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Lee said.

  Stuart and Johnny walked out together.

  “We captured a cousin of yours,” Stuart said.

  “What’s his name?” Johnny asked.

  “David. From Monroe County Indiana.”

  Johnny nodded. “About seven feet tall and four hundred pounds?”

  “That’s him,” Stuart said.

  “You should turn him loose. He breaks down horses faster than a whole troop of cavalry.”

  “He’s out my hands already. I just thought you might want to tell his family.”

  “Thank you, General. Good night.”

  “Good night, Johnny.”

  September 14, 1862

  New Market, Maryland

  General John Buford was crouched, drawing a map in the dirt. “This is South Mountain.” He drew a line, then pointed to the west. “It’s a continuation of the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia that separates the Hagerstown and Cumberland Valleys from eastern Maryland.” He looked up at his regimental commanders. “As most of you already know, a corporal in Twelve Corps found Lee’s special orders that detail his troop movements. Having that gives us the opportunity to attack Lee’s units when they’re separated and moving.” He poked his stick into the dirt on the opposite side of the line that represented South Mountain. “One Confederate division’s now here at Boonsboro. There are two divisions here above Harpers Ferry and two others are with Lee at Hagerstown. To get to any of them we’ll have to go through one of three natural gaps in the mountain.” He jabbed the stick at the three points. “They’ll be defended, but because we’ve got their orders we might have the advantage of surprise.”

  “We just captured a troop of Stuart’s cavalry,” Paul said. “One of them was a blow-hard who bragged that Lee knows that we have the special orders.”

  Buford shrugged. “That may not help Lee very much if we’re quick enough.”

  Someone groaned.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Buford said. “Our army’s notoriously slow. But maybe this time we can make a difference.” He drew three arrows in the dirt, all aimed at South Mountain. “General McClellan’s split our army into three wings to take the passes. Burnside and Hooker will be the right wing. They’ll close on Turner’s Gap and Fox’s Gap here in the north.” He drew two lines across South Mountain. “Franklin and Couch will be the left wing. They’ll hit Crampton’s Gap in the south.” He made another cross-hatch. “Sumner’s center wing’s gonna be held in reserve. We’ll split our brigade in two. I’ll take half south and Colonel Van Buskirk will take the other half north. If we push the skirmishers back, maybe the infantry will get bold and hurry.”

  “When did that corporal find the orders?” Colonel Ronald Collins asked.

  “Yesterday,” Buford replied. “And the answer to your next question is that I don’t know why General McClellan didn’t have us lined up and ready to go at dawn this morning. But like I just said to Colonel Van Buskirk, it may not matter if we’re quick enough now.” He looked around at the dubious faces. “Hey, Boys, this might give us a little edg
e. Let’s go punish Marse Lee for his mistake, if we can.”

  September 14, 1862

  Hagerstown, Maryland

  Johnny Van Buskirk delivered the dispatch to Lee, then waited.

  “It would seem that those people have broken through, or soon will break through the South Mountain passes.”

  “I was under the impression that General Longstreet had arrived in time to plug the gaps, sir,” Johnny said.

  “He arrived in time to prevent a total rout, but all-in-all, the day has gone against us. Tomorrow this army will go by Sharpsburg to cross the river and return to Virginia.”

  “Forgive me for being so bold, sir, but General Jackson seems quite sure that his assault on Harpers Ferry will be successful.”

  “I did not see any such report,” Lee replied.

  “May I?” Johnny pointed to the stack of dispatches on Lee’s desk.

  “Please.” Lee waved his hand.

  Johnny thumbed through the messages, then picked one. “Here it is, sir. It begins: ‘Through God’s blessing’.” He offered the dispatch to Lee.

  Lee waved him off. “What’s the operative portion that leads you to believe that General Jackson is assured of success?”

  “‘Through God’s blessing we have been successful thus far, and I look to Him for complete success to-morrow.”

  “Yes, I recall reading that. It seems to me more like a prayer for success than a promise of one.”

  “Begging your pardon, sir, but General Jackson will impose the name of God at any opportunity. I think he is only being pious and giving God credit for the victory that he expects tomorrow.”

  “May I see that, please?”

  Johnny gave it to him.

  Lee read it twice and then nodded. “I think you may be right.” He nodded again and showed a hint of a smile. “Yes, I do. Capturing the garrison at Harpers Ferry, with all its arms and supplies, not to mention artillery, might well be enough to convince the French or English to join us.”