The Way of All Soldiers (Gone For Soldiers)

by Jeffry S. Hepple

  Buford seemed equally surprised. “Well, sir, he’s just a boy.”

  “I’m twenty-seven,” Paul chuckled. “That’s hardly a boy.”

  “Too young to be a general,” Buford said.

  Stoneman laughed. “Then it’s not me that’s been holding Pea back. After all, Jeb Stuart, Fitz Lee and Averell are Pea’s contemporaries.”

  Buford made a face. “You know what? I never thought about that.”

  “You two work out what happens if Averell proves himself,” Stoneman said. “All I care about is getting the corps organized and keeping my job.”

  February 26, 1863

  Mesilla, New Mexico

  “Soldiers coming, Abe,” Farah shouted.

  Abe was in the smallest corral, rope training a young mare. He tied off the rope to the center-post, picked up his rifle and climbed over the corral fence. “Uh-oh. This could be trouble. They’re wearing gray and butternut, but they don’t look like regular Confederate troops to me.”

  “What do we do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do, except hope that they don’t mean us any harm.”

  The officer leading the troops raised his hand to halt the detachment, then rode closer to Abe and Farah. “Good lookin’ horses.” Behind him, the men were dismounting.

  “Thank you,” Abe replied. “They’re for sale.”

  “Not any more. They’re now the property of the Confederate States of America.” Some of the soldiers shouldered rifles while others held the reins of the riflemen’s horses.

  Abe started to raise the muzzle of his rifle, but a minie ball struck him down.

  Farah screamed and dropped to her knees beside Abe as men rushed forward to capture her. She put up a fight, but it was fruitless and she was soon bound and gagged.

  “Should we take the buck too, Captain?” one of the soldiers asked.

  “He ain’t worth nothin’ wounded,” the officer answered. “But get his rifle.”

  “Should I finish him?”

  “Don’t matter.” He turned in the saddle to look at the herd. “Cut out the best and let the others go. We can’t handle that many.”

  February 27, 1863

  Fredericksburg, Virginia

  General William W. Averell shook General Paul Van Buskirk’s hand. “Are you my replacement, Pea?”

  “Only if you lose another hundred and fifty prisoners and get more mail from Fitz,” Paul said with a chuckle.

  “Fitz thought he was being funny,” Averell grumbled. “I’m not laughing.”

  “You should be,” Paul said. “All we have to do is find Fitz, whip him and deliver his coffee. Then I can go back to Buford’s division and you can stop worrying about Stoneman or Hooker replacing you.”

  March 17, 1863

  Culpeper Court House, Virginia

  General Jeb Stuart, his artillery chief Major John Pelham, and Robert E. Lee’s adjutant, Colonel Johnny Van Buskirk, had all been attending a court-martial. When the court recessed, just before noon, Stuart was informed that Fitzhugh Lee’s brigade was engaged in a battle with Union General Averell’s cavalry near Kelly’s Ford. “Let’s ride over there and watch,” Stuart suggested. He signaled for their horses.

  “Is that the same Averell from West Point?” Johnny asked. “Fitz’s friend?”

  “Yes,” Stuart said. “Fitz has asked him politely to leave Virginia, but Averell seems to have refused.”

  The three officers mounted and rode out toward the Rappahannock.

  ~

  West of Kelly’s Ford on the Rappahannock River

  General Fitzhugh Lee was on a hill with his two artillery pieces when Jeb Stuart, John Van Buskirk and John Pelham arrived at the battlefield. “We kept them from crossing all morning,” Lee said, “but then Pea, with a platoon of Rhode Island Cavalry, forced his way across and scattered our sharpshooters. It gave Bill Averell enough of a foothold to start crossing, but it took him over two hours.”

  “My brother’s with the Rhode Island Cavalry?” Johnny asked in surprise.

  Lee nodded. “He’s a brigadier and the First Rhode Island Cavalry Regiment’s in his command. They’re good and armed with carbines.”

  “What’s their objective?” Stuart asked.

  “I’m guessing that it’s Brandy Station on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad,” Lee replied.

  Stuart nodded. “You’re probably correct. And the situation?”

  “Pea’s brigade is there, on our right, in that woodlot.” Lee pointed. “There’s another brigade in the center, and two regiments there on our left, behind that stone fence. I’m going to send our Third and Fifth Regiments behind the sharpshooters along the stone fence to find a gap. The rest will advance on line but I’ll double it on the right.”

  “Why doubled it on the right?” Stuart asked.

  “Because that’s Pea’s brigade.” Lee hesitated. “I can’t let him get loose.”

  Stuart shook his head. “Loose?”

  Lee broke eye contact. “Pea led a charge on the Second Virginia and hurt them so badly that they fled. When he rode back to their lines, the Yankees cheered him and jeered us.”

  The other three gaped at Lee in disbelief.

  Stuart was the first one to recover from the shock. “We cannot let that stand. No unit in my command has ever before run from a fight.”

  Lee looked at him helplessly and said nothing.

  Stuart took a breath and adjusted his hat. “I’ll lead your right, General. When the men see me on the field, they’ll regain their confidence. Colonel Van Buskirk will ride in the center with you. Colonel Pelham will advance with the sharpshooters.”

  ~

  When General Averell positioned his forces, he had ordered each unit to hold their positions and had publicly chastised Paul for charging the 2nd Virginia. Paul had accepted the criticism without comment, but thought that it was motivated by Averell’s desire to keep any credit for success for himself, rather than for tactical reasons.

  He watched as Jeb Stuart took the field opposite, recognized his brother in the center with Fitz Lee, and Colonel John Pelham on the right with the sharpshooters and two dismounted cavalry regiments.

  The Union artillery opened up with devastating accuracy. Pelham, on foot, reached the stone fence, ran along it to a gate and signaled the others to follow. Moments later a Union shell burst above him and struck him down along with all the troops around him. When Pelham fell, the entire Confederate left collapsed and began to run back toward their lines. The center, which was taking a terrific beating from Union carbines and artillery, faltered. To avoid another panic, Fitz Lee ordered a withdrawal.

  Stuart, who was leading the attack against the Union left, had seen Pelham fall and Lee withdraw, but he continued to lead the double line of mounted cavalry forward at a walk.

  Paul knew that Stuart would not stop and, defying Averell’s orders, mounted a charge.

  Stuart saw Paul’s brigade mount and raised his sword to order a counter-charge but the line behind him was beginning to break. Enraged, Stuart bellowed at the men, but when Paul’s cavalry opened fire with their superior weapons, the Confederate cavalry ran. Humiliated, Stuart fired his pistol until he was out of ammunition, then he charged, alone with his sword ahead of him.

  Paul looked over his shoulder and saw that Averell was still holding the rest of his troops back on line, and called off the charge leaving Stuart alone on the field.

  ~

  “We could have destroyed Fitzhugh Lee’s entire cavalry and taken him and Jeb Stuart prisoner,” Paul shouted.

  “You disobeyed a direct order,” Averell shouted back.

  “Then file charges,” Paul countered. “I’d love the opportunity to debate your decisions in front of a court-martial board.”

  “Your decision was reckless.”

  “We outnumbered them almost three to one,” Paul argued. “We have better horses and better weapons. You’re letting the myth of Jeb Stuart’s invincibility warp your judgment.”<
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  Averell glared at him, but didn’t answer.

  “At least give Fitz his coffee,” Paul said after an uncomfortable silence.

  “What?” Averell looked puzzled.

  “Send somebody for a sack of coffee and I’ll deliver it with a note from you,” Paul replied.

  Averell chuckled. “I’ll have a messenger deliver it. There are too many up there who’d shoot you, white flag or not. And I don’t really blame them.”

  March 19, 1863

  El Paso del Norte, Mexico

  The docks were empty, as were the barges that were moored nearby. The man in the shack came out to greet Abe Van Buskirk. “Hola, puedo ayudarle?”

  “Do you speak English?” Abe asked.

  “A little.”

  “I need to get to New Orleans as fast as possible.”

  “No.” The man shook his head.

  “You have a steamboat.” Abe pointed. “I can pay.”

  The man shook his head again.

  Abe tried to hide his frustration. “They told me at the cantina that you sometimes help runaway slaves.”

  “I help them run away, not the other way.”

  Abe looked out at the muddy river for a moment, then back at the man. “Confederate cavalry stole my horses and kidnapped my woman. They intend to sell her in New Orleans. If I get there fast enough I may be able to buy her.”

  The man pointed to the sling that was supporting Abe’s left arm. “They do that?”

  “Yes.”

  The man looked thoughtful for a moment. “I take you. Tomorrow.”

  March 20, 1863

  Fredericksburg, Virginia

  General John Buford looked up as General Paul Van Buskirk came in. “What happened?”

  “Hooker’s mad as a hornet.” Paul sat down in the chair across from Buford.

  “Why? What did he say?”

  “He said I was a disgrace to the uniform and should be cashiered.”

  “For disobeying Averell’s orders and leading the charges that won the battle?”

  “No. For not killing Jeb Stuart when I had the opportunity.”

  “Did you have the opportunity?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what did you tell Hooker?”

  “I told him that I would have captured Stuart if I could have, but I knew that he wouldn’t be taken alive, so I let him go.”

  “Guess I better go talk to Stoneman to find out if you’re in my command or a civilian.”

  “Hooker said it was up to you.”

  “To me?”

  “Yes. He told me to get out and when I asked him who I was to report to, he said to you, if you’d have me.”

  “Oh, hell. Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? You had me worried for a minute.”

  “There’s something else that Hooker let slip.”

  “Now what?” Buford asked in alarm.

  “You’re the new commander of the 1st Division, Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re now an equal with General Stoneman.”

  “No.”

  “General Hooker’s still looking for an excuse to remove General Stoneman. Maybe it’s you.”

  “What? Did he tell you that?”

  “Not exactly.” Paul hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t say this because I could be wrong, but I think he may have been drunk.”

  “Jesus wept. Hinman told me that Hooker’s a drunk, but I didn’t pay any attention to him. He calls headquarters the Bar and Brothel.”

  “Why didn’t you believe Hinman?”

  “In January, when Hooker appointed Dan Butterfield as his Chief of Staff , he also promoted Butterfield to Major General and back-dated his date of rank to November so that he’d outrank Hinman.”

  Paul chuckled. “I guess that explains why General Butterfield’s so widely disliked.”

  April 1, 1863

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  Rear Admiral David Farragut shook hands with Abraham Van Buskirk. “It’s been a long time, Abe.”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t remember me,” Abe said.

  “How could I forget you? The summers I spent at Van Buskirk Point when I was a boy were best. I think of those happy days often.” He motioned toward a chair. “Please have a seat, Abe, and tell me how I can help you.”

  Abe sat down. “You know about Farah Segura, I gather.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. General Banks is using all his influence to try to locate her.”

  Abe nodded. “He already has. Yesterday a slave trader reported that she’d been sold to a planter from Atlanta.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I was wondering if you could help me reach General Grant,” Abe said.

  “Yes. Very easily. But Grant’s up around Vicksburg, Mississippi and nowhere near Atlanta.”

  “I know. But Robert’s with him and I want to join the colored troops.”

  “You don’t need Robert to do that.”

  “Before I left New Jersey, Robert offered me a position as sergeant major in the colored troops and I was rude when I declined. I’d like to see if the position’s still available and apologize. I now have a better understanding of this war than I once did.”

  Farragut nodded. “Okay. Give me a few days to coordinate with David Porter. He’s in command of the fleet at Vicksburg.”

  April 15, 1863

  Milliken’s Bend, Louisiana

  The military post at Milliken’s Bend was fifteen miles northwest of Vicksburg. Until recently, it had served as the main staging area for Grant’s Vicksburg Campaign, and it still contained important supply depots and the main field hospital for Union forces.

  Post Commander Colonel Hermann Lieb looked up from the letter he was reading. “General Van Buskirk says that you speak French.” Lieb was a Swiss immigrant who had been educated in France and he had a distinct French accent.

  “Badly, sir,” Sergeant Major Abraham Van Buskirk replied. “When I was a boy I was reasonably fluent, but I’ve had little opportunity to speak French in recent years.”

  “You will have the opportunity here,” Lieb said. “You will be Brigade Sergeant Major of the 9th Louisiana Regiment of African Descent.”

  Abe chuckled. “Forgive me, sir.”

  “I know. It is a silly name. We call it the African Brigade here which may be equally silly. Most of the boys in the 9th are American-born, but many are of French Creole descent and Cajun French is their only language.”

  “I heard Louisiana French when I was in New Orleans, sir. It’s very far from the Parisian French that I was taught.”

  “I had trouble at first, but in a few days you will understand it.”

  “Who is the commanding officer of the 9th, sir?”

  “I am. Which means that you are, since I have no time for all my duties.”

  “I may not be qualified, sir.”

  Lieb waved the letter he was reading. “If General Grant, Van Buskirk and Sherman say you are, it would be treasonous to contradict.”

  Abe smiled. “Yes, sir.”

  Lieb put the letter down. “Let me tell you a story, Sergeant Major. I was a lawyer in Illinois when the war broke out. Feeling it my patriotic duty, I enlisted for ninety days as a private in Company B of the 8th Illinois Infantry. The company boys elected me captain, so I stayed beyond the ninety days. The next year I was promoted to major. Then, after taking part in the battles of Fort Donelson, Shiloh and the siege of Corinth, General Grant made me a colonel.” He smiled. “I am a lawyer by training, but by applying common sense to the task of being a soldier, I have managed well. You will too.” He tapped his temple with his index finger. “This up here is what matters most. Use it and you too will do well.”

  April 27-30, 1863

  Fredericksburg, Virginia

  On April 27th and 28th, the Army of the Potomac crossed the Rappahannock and Rapidan rivers, reaching the Chancellorsville Crossroads on April 30th. General Joseph Hooker establi
shed his headquarters in the mansion of Frances Chancellor where he held a council of war. Hooker’s plan was to concentrate V, XI, and XII Corps here and to attack Robert E. Lee’s army from the west while General Stoneman made deep raids against Lee’s supply lines. At the same time, two divisions of II Corps would cross and join V Corps to push the Confederates away from the river, while I and VI Corps would cross the Rappahannock below Fredericksburg and close on the Confederate right flank.

  Robert E. Lee was aware of Hooker’s presence but not his intentions and he sent Jeb Stuart to gather intelligence.

  Lee’s Army was spread all over Virginia and North Carolina. George Picket and John Bell Hood’s forces were more than a week away from Lee’s headquarters at Fredericksburg, foraging and requisitioning provisions from North Carolina and Virginia farmers. Fifteen thousand of Longstreet’s Corps were at Norfolk to defend Richmond against a threat from nearby Union forces.

  Jeb Stuart was blocked by Stoneman until after dawn on the 29th when Sedgwick’s forces began to cross the pontoon bridges south of Fredericksburg. Since then, Stuart had ridden around the Union forces and was now bringing back the intelligence that Lee had requested. “Hooker has, this evening, brought Sickles III Corps forward, sir,” Stuart said. “That brings his total force at Chancellorsville to around seventy thousand.”

  Lee studied Stuart’s map notations, then nodded. “What do those people expect us to do?”

  “Attack or retreat,” Longstreet replied.

  “So we must do something else,” Lee said.

  Longstreet looked around the room to see if anyone else could think of an alternative to attacking or retreating. “Okay, General. I’ll bite.”

  Lee pointed out Marye’s Heights on the map, where his army had successfully repelled Burnside’s army. “I think we can hold the Heights with a single brigade. Do you agree, General Barksdale?”

  “Yes, sir,” William Barksdale replied. “It’s a very strong position.”