Anna nodded. “General Rosecrans accused him of failing to send reinforcements because he was drunk. Is that possible? Could he have been drunk?”
Robert shook his head. “Ord swears that he was with Grant the whole time and that neither of them, or anyone else nearby, heard the battle going on. Ord’s theory is that they were in what’s called an acoustic shadow where the wind’s just right so that you can’t hear nearby gunfire.”
“Did you talk to him? Ord, or whoever?” Nancy asked.
“Major General Edward Ord,” Robert clarified. “And no, I didn’t talk to him. I read what he said in the paper. But it was buried in the back section and the accusation of drunkenness was on the front page.”
“Why does that keep happening to Grant if there’s no truth to it?” Anna asked.
Robert shook his head. “I don’t know. But I can attest to the fact that he hasn’t had a drink in my presence and I’ve spent many a day with him.”
“More than you have with me,” Nancy added. “Why does he need you more than I do?”
Robert rolled his eyes. “I just can’t win, can I?”
“Well, maybe you can make it up to me,” Nancy suggested, looking toward the bedroom.
“Oh please,” Anna groaned. “Can’t you wait until after dinner at least?”
“Room service?” Nancy suggested hopefully.
“No,” Anna said. “We’ll go downstairs to the dining room or out someplace. You’ll have Robert from late November until after the court-martial.”
~
Robert got up and walked to the window to look out. “This is beginning to look like a real city.”
“Come back to bed and talk to me,” Nancy complained.
“Can I open the window?”
“Are you mad? It’s freezing out there and we’re both stark naked.”
He walked back and sat on the edge of the bed. “Let’s get dressed and go out.”
“Where? It’s after midnight.”
“I don’t know. Someplace will be open. Let’s just wander around.”
She sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and groaned. “My spirit is willing.” She flopped back on the bed. “But my muscles feel like I ran ten miles.”
He got up and lifted her feet back onto the bed, then covered her with the sheet and blanket. “I’m going to go out to the living room and read or something.”
“You better put some clothes on unless you want to shock your sister. She usually doesn’t go to bed until two.”
Robert gathered his clothes. “If I resigned from the Army they couldn’t force me to appear at Fitz John Porter’s court-martial.”
“I don’t know why you’re being called anyway. You weren’t there at the time of the battle.”
“Nobody’s told me anything,” he said, beginning to get dressed. “They just sent me a subpoena.”
“How well do you know him?”
“Not that well. He’s a distant cousin, but I’ve never met his family. The only time I ever served with him was in Mexico, and then only at the Battle of Chapultepec.”
“Did you see him do anything heroic or cowardly in that battle?”
“I don’t remember seeing him at all. I only know that he was in the battle because his name was on the wounded list.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Nancy suggested. “Maybe they’ve confused you with Pea. He was there at Bull Run.”
“Maybe. I’ll see if I can get somebody at the War Department to talk to me tomorrow. I really don’t want to be part of the trial.”
“Wait a minute. Why am I helping you find a way to get you out of it when the trial will keep you here with me?”
He walked to the bed and bent down to kiss her. “Go to sleep and maybe when you wake up in the morning you’ll have the answer to that question.”
She clung to his neck. “Come back to bed.”
“I just got dressed and now you want me to undress again?”
“I don’t care as long as you don’t have spurs on.”
He gently extracted himself from her grip. “Go to sleep.”
“I love you, Robert.”
“I love you too.” He walked to the door, slipped out quietly and closed the door gently.
“Why are you sneaking around?” Anna asked. She was sitting on the couch with a book in her lap.
“I thought you might be asleep out here.”
She looked at the clock. “If I went to sleep now I’d wake up at four in the morning and then I’d be dead tired by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What are you reading?”
“Les Misérables by Victor Hugo.”
“Isn’t that in French?”
“Yes. Do you want something to read?”
“Do you have anything in English?”
“Fiction or nonfiction?”
“Fiction. As if I don’t get enough from the newspapers.”
“Have you read Moby Dick?”
“Yes.”
“Great Expectations?”
“Read it.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Look through the bookshelves in my bedroom.”
Robert left the room and came back a minute later.
“That was fast,” Anna said. “What did you choose?”
“On Liberty by John Stuart Mill.” He showed her the book.
“It’s not what you think,” Anna giggled.
“What do I think?” Robert sat down across from her and opened the book.
“You think it’s political but it’s about the freedom of individuals from what Mill calls the tyranny of the majority.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He says that people should be able to do anything they like as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else.”
“Who gets to decide what’s harmful?”
She shrugged.
“Is this yours or Nancy’s?”
“Nancy’s. Why?”
“It sounds like her way of thinking.”
“You mean when she had female lovers.”
“We’ve never discussed that.”
“You should if it bothers you.”
“I don’t think it bothers me any more than her male lovers.”
“Does that bother you?”
He put the book down. “Not so much anymore, but it did when we were young. I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember, but I didn’t always approve of her behavior.”
“You should read that.” She pointed at the book. “And then you should talk to her.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s bothering you, Robert?”
“Everything. I miss Dad, Uncle Thomas, Aunt Nan, Mother, and I’m going to really miss Christmas at the Home Place.”
Anna closed her book. “Do you know what I miss the most?”
“What?”
“The simplicity of yesterday – before we had all these damnable machines. It seems as if there’s some new invention every day that complicates our lives. There are factories sprouting up everywhere. The sky and the snow are gray from coal dust. You can’t escape the smell of burning coal.”
“They have guns now that can fire an explosive shell that weighs as much as a horse for three miles. We have rifles that fire twenty-five rounds a minute. Last month, an arms salesman demonstrated what he called a Gatling gun that fires over two hundred rounds a minute.” He shook his head. “We killed twenty-five thousand Americans at Shiloh. How many more will we be able to kill in the next big battle next year?”
Anna shuddered. “You topped me in the depressing changes contest.”
“Sorry.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know how you can see the things that you see on battlefields without going mad. Some of the things I saw when we were looking for you are like scars on my memory.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think the worst thing I’ve ever seen was Abe walking down the hill in front of dozens of hostile black faces. I wasn’t
prepared for that. I always thought of myself as being colorblind. But I’ve been lying to myself and Abe knows it.”
Anna nodded. “I never actually thought about the backlash when I was so vocal about freeing the slaves. It never even dawned on me to ask myself what we were going to do with millions of people who had no training to do anything beyond picking cotton. We should have been using all these years to find ways to educate and employ the slaves.”
“Grant just placed a chaplain from the Twenty-Seventh Ohio Infantry in charge of the refugee slaves. They’ll be put to work bringing in the crops on abandoned plantations for no pay. I’m not sure how that differs from what they just ran away from.”
Anna shook her head. “I know all about that issue. The problem is that there’s simply no money to pay them.”
“Is Lincoln ever going to let them join the Army? Not the phony colored troops where they serve as laborers, but the real army?”
“I can’t discuss that with you, Robert.”
He shrugged. “It hardly matters. When it happens, the white troops won’t trust the colored troops and the colored won’t trust the white. It’s a problem that’ll take two hundred years to solve.”
“Could you come to the White House with me tomorrow?” Anna asked.
“Why?”
“To talk to President Lincoln. He’s starved for information.”
“He’s got a thousand people feeding him information.”
“All of them have an agenda. He needs to hear what the soldiers in the field are saying from someone that isn’t trying to convince him of something.”
“I can’t guarantee that I don’t have an agenda, Anna. After talking to Abe I’d have a hard time not urging him to permit free colored men to join the army at whatever rank a white man might be given.”
“I don’t understand what you said about rank.”
“Abe told me that he wanted a commission. My reaction was to dismiss it as ridiculous. But later, when I thought about it, I realized that he’s smarter and better educated than many of the officers that I know. And, thanks to Uncle Thomas, he’s very familiar with weapons and military terminology.”
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t discuss that with the President. When I said that his advisors had agendas, I should have said hidden agendas. He’ll be happy to talk to someone that speaks out frankly, just as he does.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
Anna nodded. “He’s a truly great man. But you avoided my question. Will you meet with him?”
“I suppose so, but I have to go to the War Department first to see why I’ve been subpoenaed for the Porter court-martial.”
“You’re on the board,” Anna replied.
“What?”
“You’re on the court-martial board.”
“No.”
“I saw your name on it.”
“Can you get me off?”
“On what grounds?” she asked.
“He’s our cousin.”
Anna laughed. “So’s half of New England. That won’t work.”
“How about I don’t want to?” he grumbled. “Will that work?”
“Come on, Robert,” Anna reasoned. “It’s not like you to try to shirk.”
“Shirk,” he repeated loudly.
Anna shushed him with a finger to her lips and pointed at the closed bedroom door where Nancy was sleeping. “They need senior officers who weren’t involved in the battle of Bull Run or any planning of the Eastern campaigns. Most of those have active commands in the West.”
“I have an active command in the West.”
“You’re officially on Grant’s staff, Robert.”
“If that’s so, it’s an oversight.”
She shrugged. “You’re on your own, little brother.”
October 6, 1862
Culpeper Courthouse, Virginia
The sun was beginning to set as Colonel Johnny Van Buskirk rode into General James Longstreet’s camp. “Where’s General Longstreet, Corporal?”
The man pointed. “His headquarters is in that farm house, sir.”
“Is General Hood with you here?”
“Yes, sir. But I ain’t seen him.”
“How about General Van Buskirk?”
“No, sir. I ain’t seen none of the Texans since we made camp, but they was marchin’ with us so I know they’re here. They might be on the picket lines down on the river.”
“Thank you, Corporal.” Johnny turned his horse into the cornfield and followed a row of dry stalks toward the farm house. He hadn’t slept more than an hour or two at a time since Antietam. Lee had crossed the Potomac and rested his army on the Virginia side for two days, but during that time, Johnny had repeatedly ridden to Richmond and back in an attempt to reestablish communications between Lee and the capital. Since then he had been on the move almost continuously as Lee continued along the Shenandoah Valley.
After Antietam, Lee had expected McClellan to pursue his advantage, but instead, McClellan remained on the Maryland side of the river gathering reinforcements. Three days ago, Lee became convinced that the political pressure on McClellan was going to force him to attack and in anticipation, he had sent Longstreet’s corps to Culpeper Courthouse to establish a line between McClellan and Richmond.
A sentry in front of the farm house came forward and saluted Johnny. “Your horse looks plumb tuckered out, sir. Can I have one of the boys rub him down and give him a bag of some good Virginia oats?”
“I’d be very obliged, Private.” Johnny swung off the horse and groaned. “I could use a rub down myself.”
“I don’t think you’d like our horse liniment, sir,” the private said, taking the reins from Johnny. “But there’s a cathouse up the road a piece that might could do ya some good.”
“I’m probably going to have to pass on that, Private. But thanks for the tip. Is anyone in there with General Longstreet?”
“No, sir. General Armistead just left.”
“Thank you.” Johnny walked to the door and knocked.
“Come on in,” Longstreet called.
Johnny pushed the door open, then remembered his boots were muddy and tried to wipe them on the sill.
“Don’t worry about that,” Longstreet said. “No rugs in here.”
Johnny went in, closed the door and saluted.
Longstreet waved his cigar at him. “Sit here by the fire and take them wet boots off.”
Johnny accepted the offered chair and held a message pouch toward the general.
“What is it this time?” Longstreet took the pouch, opened it and removed a single page. “Let’s see. Hey now, here’s somethin’.” He looked at Johnny. “Have we broken into the Union telegraph system?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“This is a copy of a message from Lincoln to McClellan.”
Johnny nodded. “General Lee told me to bring it to you, General. He didn’t give me any background.”
“Cross the Potomac and give battle to the enemy, or drive him South. Your army must now move while the roads are good.” Longstreet tossed the message into the fire. “That’s plain enough. Wish President Davis would write clear, succinct orders like that.”
Johnny’s chin hit his chest and he woke with a start. “What did you say, sir?”
“I said get them boots off and climb into my bunk for a bit,” Longstreet replied. “McClellan’s gonna find a hundred excuses why he can’t obey that order. He won’t be comin’ tonight. Get some rest.”
“I should decline your offer, sir. But I don’t have the energy.” Johnny began removing his boots.
“I never expected McClellan to be such a poor general,” Longstreet said. “He’s really surprised me.”
“My Aunt Anna says that he’s planning to run for president against Lincoln, next election.”
“Really? Well she’d be the one who’d know. I only met her once. Handsome woman, but too full of piss and vinegar for my taste.”
“Yes,
sir. She’s quite something special.”
“Ever hear from your Uncle Robert?”
“Occasionally.”
“I’m glad he’s in the West with Grant. That’s two friends I won’t have to kill.” He looked at Johnny expecting an answer, then smiled. “You sleep while you can, Boy, ‘cause Honest Abe’s gonna get fed up with Little Mac soon and when he does, he might just accidentally find himself a real general.”
October 15, 1862
Waco, Texas
Jane walked into the living room and shrieked in terror, then caught her breath and put her hand to her head. “Jesus, Jack. You scared the devil out of me.”
“I’m sorry, Jane.” Jack was sitting on the couch with a letter in his hand. “I shouldn’t have accepted when Consuelo offered to let me in.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re welcome here any time.” She pointed at the letter. “Bad news?”
“Kinda.” He got up and handed her the letter, then sat back down.
Jane squinted at it. “I can’t read without my spectacles. What’s it say?” She sat down beside him.
He took the letter back. “Abe and Ginger had some trouble from slave catchers. Did you know about that?”
“Yes. I completely forgot to tell you about that mess. I think you were still in California when it happened. Samuel was shot in a confrontation with slavers. He’s since moved to Holland. Abe and Ginger have fortified their place.”
“Abe’s sold his land at Van Buskirk Point. Robert’s going to give him Mother’s ranchero in Mesilla.” A tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away angrily.
Jane took his hand in hers and put her head on his shoulder. “I know. Everything we knew as kids is going or gone.”
“I think it’s time for me to take my proper place as head of this family,” Jack said.
Jane sat up and looked into his face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I should be in New Jersey. Do you want to come with me? This isn’t home.”
Jane let go of his hand. “This is my home. And it’s Tom’s home, and Johnny and Pea’s home.”
“Okay.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. It could be your home too. Stay here. Please. Stay with me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t like Texas or Texans.”
The Way of All Soldiers (Gone For Soldiers) Page 25