"Four days at least, sir, if I cleared the line all the way to the Port Deposit on the Susquehanna. Then fast packet to the Anacostia Naval Yard."
"It will already be decided by then," Grant replied, gaze fixed on the map. "Let's review the situation in Washington. What forces does Heintzelman have?"
"The garrison in the city is approximately twenty-five thousand. Mostly heavy artillery regiments, several good units. Also some small naval and marine detachments."
"Reinforcements?"
Haupt turned the pages on his own oversized notebook and found the information.
"Three thousand men have been dispatched from Fortress Monroe. They should be there by now. Halleck ordered that operations in front of Charleston be scaled back, half the men there, nearly ten thousand to be transported up as well. If need be, the operation in front of Charleston can be abandoned and the rest of the force brought up as well."
Elihu cleared his throat and looked over at Grant.
"Concerning Halleck."
Sherman walked around behind Grant, who sat unperturbed, silently puffing away.
Everyone knew of the deep tension that ran between Grant and Sherman on one side, and Halleck on the other. The year before, Halleck had worked vigorously to remove Grant from command of the Army of the Tennessee, blaming him for the first day's debacle at Shiloh.
"Go on."
"He has been removed from command, sir. The president will have accepted his resignation as of today; in fact the resignation was effective the moment you arrived here in Cairo."
Sherman grinned and slapped his thigh. "About damn time, I say."
Elihu reached into his breast pocket and produced an envelope bearing the letterhead of the White House.
"This, sir, is authorization by the president. As stated in the previous telegram, you are in command of all forces of the United States; Halleck's position is now yours, and, sir, you will answer directly to the president of the United States."
"Not through Secretary Stanton?" Elihu shook his head.
Herman looked over at Elihu with open surprise. Something big, profound must have happened between Lincoln and Stanton for the president to have cut Stanton out of the direct chain of command.
Grant said nothing; it was obvious that Elihu would brief him privately, later.
"Attached as well," Elihu continued, "is a statement from the secretary of the navy. Admiral Farragut will now have overall command of all naval forces, but when it comes to coordination and support of troop movements, he will defer to your orders, sir."
Grant took the envelope but did not open it. Haupt was deeply impressed by the fact that not a flicker of a smile, not the slightest gesture of self-gratification showed. Instead he looked over at Admiral Porter and nodded.
"John, I'm sorry there wasn't something in this for you," Grant said. "God knows you deserve it. We never would have had Vicksburg without you."
John Porter extended his hand.
"That's reward enough, sir, to hear that from you."
There was a long moment of silence, interrupted only by the ticking of a station clock on the wall and the shrieking train whistles out in the yard. Grant gazed at the map of the country and Haupt watched him. This man had just been given the responsibility of running the entire war. All power to do so was now focused in this room. He was not given to flights of fanciful imagination, but he found himself wondering for a second if perhaps someday a painting might be commissioned of this moment, a pensive Grant leaning over the map of the country, thinking upon what blood still needed to be shed, what destruction wrought, to bring it together again, if indeed it could be brought together again.
The second cigar burned down, a third was lit. Haupt got up, poured himself a cup of coffee that was now cold, pulling back the window shade for a moment to look out at the rain lashing down, flashes of lightning illuminating the dark river below.
"I am bringing up three corps from Vicksburg," Grant said, breaking the silence at last.
"McPherson is already coming up." He paused, looking up at Sherman. "Ord's Thirteenth Corps will follow, then Burnside's Ninth Corps along with the men he detached to Kentucky. I also want Banks's Nineteenth Corps from Port Hudson and New Orleans."
"Isn't that stripping the Mississippi down to nothing?" Elihu asked. Even Sherman seemed surprised by the announcement.
"The issue will be decided in front of Washington and Richmond, not on the banks of the Mississippi. Besides, General Sherman here will continue to play havoc with them and I'm also leaving part of your brother Cadwallader's Sixteenth Corps with him.''
Elihu smiled.
"I'd like to see my brother again," Elihu replied.
Sherman looked over at Grant with outright dismay.
"Sir, I really think I could better serve going with you," he protested. "Let me loose on Bobbie Lee and we'll show those Easterners how to fight."
Grant shook his head emphatically.
"No, Bill, you're staying in the West. Besides, this is what you wanted, a chance at independent command. You'll have a tough job. You've got to keep what we've taken, then drive what's left of the rebs out of the region with only a third of what we had before."
"Sir," and there was almost a note of pleading in his voice, which surprised Haupt.
A look from Grant silenced him.
"Hear me out, Bill. You're taking command of the Army of the Tennessee."
"What's left of it. I'll have only my own corps, Cadwallader's, and some detached units to cover five hundred miles of river."
"I want someone out west I know I can count on, who can command independently. Ord with the Thirteenth is brand-new to corps command. McPherson is superb as a second in command, but frankly I trust you more in an independent role, and that means command of forces in the West."
He fell silent again, puffing on his cigar, studying the map, and then stirred.
"Where we have failed from the beginning is in concentration. Combined, we outnumber them on all fronts, but we have piddled away our numbers. How many are garrisoning St. Louis right now, Memphis, Louisville, wandering blindly on the coast of Texas, in Florida, even in front of Charleston?"
Haupt smiled and was prepared to go into his notebook, but then realized that the question was a rhetorical one; the hard numbers could be discussed later.
"I want pressure; I want it where it will hurt them the most, at the same time to prevent Lee from being reinforced even as I prepare to meet him. Bill, that's why I'm leaving you out here. Your job will be to keep the pressure on the rebels in the West and never allow them to shift any resources to the eastern theater. We can go over the details later, before I head east."
"What about old Rosecrans and Chattanooga?" Sherman asked pointedly. Grant smiled, knowing what Bill was trying to lead him toward, and shook his head.
"Later. Your mission at first will be to mop up what's left near Vicksburg; then we'll talk about Rosecrans and eastern Tennessee."
Grant looked back at Haupt.
"I want to move the troops coming up from Vicksburg eastward from here. McPherson's First Division is, as you know, disembarking now. That's just a symbolic gesture for the moment The real effort will start in another week and they already have their orders to move."
Haupt stood and leaned over the table, moving his notebook to where he could read from it
'To where?" Haupt asked.
Grant pointed at the map.
"Harrisburg," and Haupt smiled. It was where he assumed Grant would want to move, and Haupt had been planning accordingly.
"I assumed, sir, that you would be bringing at least two corps up, and I have developed the following plan."
He quickly flipped through several pages.
"We'll need close on to a hundred trains to move the men and primary equipment for one corps, including artillery, limbers, some ambulances. Horses, except for officers' mounts, will have to be left behind, or moved up later, they take up too much space, and the fora
ge support for the animals makes it difficult, slowing us down. Anyway we can requisition horses in Pennsylvania as needed. Pennsylvanians are angry and will do almost anything to get even with Lee for invading their state.
"I'm planning on convoys of ten trains to move in a block, the line cleared as they go, each convoy spaced three hours apart, to give time for westbound traffic to at least move a stage back up the line. We still have to keep some traffic moving west. Additional equipment is being pre-placed along the line to clear any breakdowns or blockages. The convoys will move from here to Springfield, then to Indianapolis, to Columbus, then Pittsburgh, then to Harris-burg, detouring north through Williamsport, Pennsylvania, since we cannot guarantee safety of the line skirting the Cumberland Valley. We'll have to transfer trains at a couple of points where lines don't join; that will be difficult but I'm setting equipment in place now. I've also factored in an additional locomotive with empty cars for each convoy of ten in case of breakage.
"Men will be issued three days' cold rations, barrels of water set in each car; civilian organizations are being solicited at each depot where trains will be refueled and watered, to try and provide hot food for the men, but there is no guarantee of that. Transit to Harrisburg should take three days."
"Security?" Sherman asked.
"At every major switching and bridge, state militia will be turned out to guard, also at points of transfer. Since the lines are federalized, orders have been posted that any attempts to block or delay trains by civilians will be dealt with as a capital crime."
He hesitated for a few seconds, then continued.
"I can promise completed delivery of your First Corps to Harrisburg in ten days."
"And the rest?"
'Ten days per corps after that. If the Nineteenth goes by sea to Philadelphia, that will make their movement rather easy. The bigger problem of course will be horses, mules, wagons, forage for the animals, but as I said, it's easier to find those in the East than to try and move them all the way from Vicksburg and New Orleans to Harrisburg."
Grant gave a quick nod of agreement.
"Logistical support, supplies?"
"I'm pulling mat together even as we speak. Full stockpiles of ammunition, rations, medical and auxiliary equipment are being brought in from across the Union. At the same time, what is left of the Army of the Potomac is being refitted, twenty batteries of artillery, forty thousand rifles, all necessary ammunition."
"What's left of it?" Sherman asked, the slightest hint of disdain in his voice.
Haupt could not help but bristle. The prejudice held by the western armies for the East was well-known. The Army of the Potomac was, however, his army, the one he had supported for nearly two years, and though he would not say it out loud, neither of these men had yet to face up to Bobbie Lee.
"Approximately thirty-five thousand men," Haupt replied, "counting those men that General Sickles took to New York. The bulk of them come from Sickles's Third Corps, Sykes's Fifth, and Howard's Eleventh."
"Point of concentration?" Grant asked.
"Still scattered, sir, from Harrisburg, which Sickles was holding clear down to the Chesapeake; some men are still drifting in. Every bridge over the Susquehanna from Harrisburg to the Chesapeake has been dropped, and the river is in flood; so, scattered or not, once on the north side of the river, they're safe from Lee."
"An army isn't supposed to be safe," Sherman sniffed. "It's supposed to be out there fighting."
"Sir," Haupt said quietly, forcing control, "they put up one hell of a fight. I know, I saw some of it. They lost, to be certain, but they most certainly chewed a hole into Lee as well."
Sherman bristled but Grant extended a calming hand.
"Gentlemen, we are all on the same side. Bill, we got whipped more than once ourselves, so let's not judge yet"
Sherman said nothing, shifting his unlit cigar in his mouth.
Grant looked back at Haupt.
"So you can move my corps to Harrisburg in how long?"
'Thirty days tops, for everything. I can prioritize the infantry, have all of them there within fifteen days, but it will take at least fifteen days, realistically more likely thirty to forty-five additional days, to bring up the necessary support to wage offensive operations."
"I want this done right."
Grant looked back at the map.
"There will be more, Haupt, a lot more."
"Sir, combined with the Army of the Potomac, that should give you the numerical edge."
"I don't just want the numerical edge," Grant replied, and for the first time his voice was sharp, a touch of anger to it.
"Bill, you said it two years ago, that it would take a quarter of a million men, just in the West, to crush this rebellion. That General Haupt is the edge we've always had but have never used, our numbers and our industry. By God, from day one we could have crushed this thing, at a fraction of the cost in blood, if only we had concentrated.
"General Lee is a brilliant tactician, but it seems that we have all become focused on what Lee is doing, and not on what we should be doing."
He placed a sharp emphasis on the word we, a note of anger and rebuke. Elihu, who had been sitting quiet while tactics and logistics were discussed, looked up at Grant and smiled.
"I have but one goal before me," Grant continued, "and that is the task set for me by the president of the United States."
He looked back down at the map of the Union. 'To defeat General Lee and to end this war, and with God's help we will get this job done once and for all."
Chapter Two
Headquarters Army of Northern Virginia, Rockville, MD
July 16,1863
Gen. Jeb Stuart pulled off his poncho, water streaming on to the floor. Mud was clinging to his boots as he stomped them on the entry way rug.
"God, what a mess out there," he sighed. Looking up he saw the disapproving glance of his commander at his choice of words. "Sorry, sir."
Gen. Robert E. Lee motioned for Stuart to come to the table. Gen. James "Pete" Longstreet was by Lee's side, sipping from a cup of coffee; on the other side of Lee stood Gen. John Bell Hood, newly promoted to command of the reorganized Second Corps. The room was dimly lit-half a dozen candles around the table-the small house at the edge of Rockville abandoned at the approach of Confederate forces and now serving as Lee's headquarters. Jed Hotchkiss, chief cartographer for the Army of Northern Virginia, stood behind Lee, his map of the area spread out on the table.
Lee, sighing, rubbed his eyes. He was tired, having been up all day riding slowly, weaving his way through the bogged-down ranks of his exhausted army, which had been slogging for six weary days to mate less than sixty miles. His uniform was soaked clean through, change of clothes lost somewhere back on the road, the headquarters wagon stuck in the mud.
Col. Walter Taylor, Lee's aide, offered Stuart a cup of coffee, which the general took eagerly, blowing on the edge of the tin cup and then sipping.
"Your report, General Stuart," Lee asked, putting his glasses back on to look up at his young cavalier.
"As ordered, sir, I rode a circuit of their outer fortifications and started back here as soon as it got dark. It was a difficult ride, sir. The Yankees have destroyed every bridge, mill dams are blown, one of my men drowned trying to ford a stream. Dozens of horses are crippled-broken legs, mostly-had to destroy them."
"Did you get any prisoners?" Lee asked.
"Yes, sir. Six men. Three from the First Maine Heavy Artillery, two from the First New York, and one officer, a captain, shoulder straps indicate staff, but he's as tight as a clam, won't say a word. The enlisted men were well fed, arrogant, said they hope we attack."
"Their strength?"
"Still not sure, sir. It was impossible to try and develop the situation, to trigger an open skirmish outside their fortifications. No regimental flags were shown."
"Smart on their part," Lee said, "keep us guessing."
"We did pick up a lot of newspapers in a post
office at Beltsville, Washington papers mostly, printed this morning, a Harper's Weekly reporting on our victory at Union Mills and a New York Tribune from four days ago. One of the Washington papers said there's nearly thirty thousand Yankees garrisoning the city."
"Sounds about right," Longstreet said quietly.
"It also said that Lincoln's ordering up reinforcements from as far away as Charleston."
He has to, Lee thought to himself. He knows I have to come here, and now all other fronts are secondary.
"The fortifications?" Hotchkiss asked.
Stuart nodded to the army cartographer.
"Your maps are excellent sir. Just as you indicated. They're damn …, excuse me, sir, they are massive. Ditching ten feet deep, abatis, earthen walls twenty feet high in places. The fortresses are all within mutual support of each other, and connected by communication trenches. One of the heavy-artillery prisoners said they've got thirty-pounders, even some eight-inch guns, Columbiads, heavy mortars, and hundred-pound rifled Parrott guns in them. It was hard to see through the rain. Fields of fire are well laid out, each fortress covered on flanks by its neighbors. There are no weaknesses anywhere along that line, sir. They most likely have good interior roads as well and can shift to meet any threat."
As he spoke, Stuart traced out on Hotchkiss's map the perimeter of fortifications guarding the landward approach to Washington.
"Well manned?" Lee asked.
"Again, sir, hard to tell in the rain. I pushed skirmishers forward at three points and they were met with brisk firing, no lack of ammunition; they were firing heavy guns at my skirmish line from half a mile out."
Lee nodded. Of course they would. The stockpile of equipment in the capital would be unaffected by what happened to the Army of the Potomac, and their gunners would be eager to get some shots in, their first chance for real shooting since the war started.
"I placed a brigade to cover the Rockville Road, another on the Seventh Street Road, and ordered two more brigades down to cut the Blandenburg Road, the railroad to Baltimore, and anchor our line down to Uniontown. By tomorrow morning the city will be completely cut off."
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