by Unknown
I peered intently at them, “Caitlin my sister of course.”
Interlude
Caitlin cowered in the corner of the room as Mick ranted and raved. He had been throwing things around since he had arrived home on leave. The Union soldier had been this way since the letter came about his cousins. “The murdering Reb bastards. As soon as I get back to the front I am going to make it my business to find these Wildcats and I will rip the feckin hearts out of them.”
“Isn’t it war Mick darling? I mean soldiers get killed all the time.” She could never understand men fighting. Life was hard enough without putting yourself where men could kill you. As far as she could see war brought nothing but misery, hunger and death.
He almost thrust the paper into her face. “They hanged them! You don’t do that to soldiers and besides the Rangers aren’t soldiers. They are bandits and murderers. I’m going to kill every single one of them.”
Caitlin had to get downstairs to open the bar but she was wondering, as she went down the rickety stairs if she ought to reconsider her decision to marry Mick O’Callaghan in June. She didn’t like his temper. It reminded her too much of Black Bill. And he had been less loving since he had been sharing her bed. She thought that was a little ironic but then again Black Bill had been the same. They were sweet as anything until she succumbed and then a bastard. She also felt uncomfortable about his news. Perhaps Jack was fighting too and he might find himself the victim of these murderers men like Mosby and this Boswell. She clutched her crucifix and said a silent prayer for her brother, wherever he was.
Major Beauregard had made sure he had the finest and most flamboyant uniform he could get. After all, his future father in law, Ebenezer Winfield was paying for it. Neil’s uniform was more functional. Secretary of War Seddon had not seemed as keen as Ebenezer had made out but he had given him a commission as a major in the newly formed cavalry unit, the 1st Virginia Scouts. Arthur had hoped for a colonelcy. He resented having to take orders from a damned colonial but Secretary Seddon was adamant. Money had to have changed hands for him to have been given a majority.
Arthur and his servant would have to travel to Winchester where the regiment was being created. Andrew Neil had discovered, through a conversation with some officials that the regiment would be a hotch potch of other regiments which had too few to muster sufficient numbers and men sent from other regiments because of discipline issues. That side of it didn’t worry Arthur. He would use Neil to coerce them into working for him. The rest of the men employed by Major Beauregard would continue to work in Atlanta and build up his criminal empire. He was marrying for respectability but he made his money through gambling and prostitution. The old man was being very cagey and the weeding would not be until the summer. He wanted Arthur to prove himself. The Englishman smiled. He had outwitted far cleverer men than Winfield.
“Neil, make sure that the men know they are to keep on top of the business. This is an interruption only. Once I am married I will find some excuse to leave the service of the Confederacy. Hopefully old man Winfield will not survive the winter.”
Neil grinned, “He could have an accident sir? Then you would be free to marry.”
He shook his head, “No I am not sure of his will. I want his money and his land. It will be worth the short wait. And I want to take our own sweet time getting to this Winchester place. I do not relish the idea of sleeping in a tent. Find out, if you can, where this damned regiment is will you?”
Arthur was right in one respect; Ebenezer Winfield did not trust the slimy Englishman. His will left all of his money to a trust to keep his daughter comfortably cared for. He had hoped for a reliable man to marry her but all the decent ones were at war and she had fallen for the Englishman. He neither trusted nor liked the Englishman. He would wait to see how the wind blew once Arthur St John Beauregard fought for the south.
Chapter 7
When we arrived at Front Royal and paid our stabling bill it felt strange. From now on we would be soldiers paid to fight for the Confederacy. We would still need to provide our own horses but food and tents would be supplied. We were also acutely aware that discipline and regulations would play a much bigger part. If would have to be ‘lieutenant’ and not ‘Danny’; ‘sergeant’ and not ‘Jack’. The captain had told us how much we would be paid while we travelled north. “You privates will get $11 a month. Dago and Jed, $13. Harry and Jack, $17. “
The privates whistled and Dago looked ruefully at the stripes on my sleeves. “I reckon I will try for those. I could use an extra four bucks a month.” Dago had expensive tastes in women and booze.
Harry and I both felt a little uncomfortable at this new arrangement. Hitherto we had shared in the dangers and shared in the profits. All of that was now changing. None of us asked how much Danny and the captain were getting, we assumed much more. But it didn’t matter; we were still the men who worked for Captain Boswell and that would never change.
It was good to be back on my own horse. Copper was almost a mind reader when we rode in action. I could ask her to do anything and she would not let me down. I was also happy to have my own weapons close by. My Colts and my knives were almost part of me. The captain had said that we would be allowed to keep our own equipment but we might have to get our own ammunition or use the weapons of the rest of the regiment. None of us fancied that. The Navy Colts wouldn’t be a problem but I would have to husband my dwindling supply for the Army Colts I liked. Luckily we had acquired quite a quantity when we had been freelance and Harry and I had buried little stashes of it around Winchester and Front Royal. Of course we couldn’t just disappear and collect things like that now. We were subject to regulations and we didn’t want to be shot as deserters.
When we reached Winchester General Stuart was there with the Quartermaster. I was pleased that we were the first of the new men to arrive. The new colonel and the new major hadn’t even made an appearance. Stuart clasped Captain Boswell warmly by the hand. “I can see that you and your men are keen. I did try to get you a majority and we nearly had one but Secretary of War Seddon intervened. It seems he owed a favour and we have an Englishman who was in the Crimea.” He shrugged, “He may be satisfactory. We will have to see. Don’t worry. I intend to see Colonel Cartwright when he arrives. The colonel is a very experienced commander and you will like him. He has been fighting for this country since before you were born. You and your men are to be used as scouts. I don’t want your skills going to waste. You will need to train up the rest of your company when they arrive. You will need another lieutenant and you should have three or four sergeants.” He leaned in to speak to the captain. “I would get your men in place now, while you can. Once I leave….” He was making it clear that the captain would be soon on his own.
“I understand. Thank you general.”
“A Troop, 1st Virginia Scouts follow me.”
That was the first time we actually heard our name and it made us feel good. We were now part of the army. The tents were already neatly laid out but before we could enter them the captain stopped us. “I am going to make some promotions. I know some of you will be upset but I will do the best for all of you when I can. Danny, you will be the First Lieutenant, Harry, the Second Lieutenant. Jack, First Sergeant, Dago and Jed you will both be sergeants. Davy, David and Jimmy, you are promoted to corporal. This is enough for the time being but when we get more men then we will need to add. There are chances for all of you.”
Dago was beaming. “Well I got my pay rise!”
Harry looked embarrassed, “I think you should have got First Lieutenant, Jack.”
“No Harry, sorry, sir, I think you deserve it and I am happy being First Sergeant. Still, I think we will need more corporals.” I grinned, “Lieutenant, would you ask the captain if we could have three more corporals?”
Laughing, Harry said, “I agree with you but this sir and lieutenant lark will take some getting use to.”
I found that, as First Sergeant, I had a tent all to my
self. There were some benefits to being isolated from the rest of my friends. I organised my tent the way I liked it and then took a stroll around the camp to check up on the men, my men. What I noticed was that the tents got bigger with the rank. I had the same size tent as Dago and Jed but theirs was bigger than that shared by Jimmy and Davy and that, in turn was bigger than the one occupied by Wilkie and Jacob. When I found Danny, Harry and the captain’s tents, I found that they could stand up in theirs. This was a different army to the one I had been in before Christmas. I wandered over to the horse lines and took a handful of grain to Copper. At least my horse hadn’t changed but I feared that everything else with which I was familiar would change and not always for the better.
We were one part of a huge cavalry corps. We were woken by reveille. We did not even have our own bugler! We were woken by the nearby regiments in this huge gathering of cavalrymen. No-one had organised food, for Jed was now a sergeant and the men looked around for someone to make a decision. Danny held his hands up. “I guess this is my fault boys. Until we get more men and officers, apparently I am adjutant and I should have organised this. Sergeant Smith, organise breakfast. Sergeant Spinelli organise some sentries. “
Everyone looked around. Who were these sergeants? Dago held up his hand, “Hey morons! I am Sergeant Spinelli. Work out who Sergeant Smith is eh?”
Danny laughed, “First Sergeant and officers to the command tent!”
I followed Harry and Danny and we entered the spacious tent of the captain. He looked at us and spread his arms. “Sorry about that. We haven’t made a very good start have we?”
“Jack, can you organise the men: the sentries and the food. Find someone to look after the horses and someone who can be an armourer. Danny, make a rota for officers and liaise with Jack.”
“How about more corporals sir?”
“Yes Harry, er Lieutenant Grimes mentioned that. Have you anyone in mind?”
“As an armourer then Irish is your man. As for horses, it has to be Carlton. He would sleep with them if he could but I have no idea who to make cook. Jed was the best. Perhaps we ask him.”
“Right Jack, you organise that and have a word with Jed.” He looked solemnly at us all. “I don’t want this Colonel Cartwright to find any fault with us. We already have a poor reputation and half of the staff think we are little better than bandits and murderers. We need to be better than the rest. Jack make sure the men know how and when to salute. Keep the weapons clean and make sure the sentries are on the ball.”
Telling Cecil that he was promoted was one of the best moments of my life. I took Carlton and Cecil to one side. “The captain has asked me to promote you to corporal. You can choose a tent later. Cecil you will be the armourer. That means you fix any gun the men bring to you. We want every gun to work the first time and you are the man to do that. Carlton you will be responsible for the horses. You check them every night and every morning. I want you to assume that there may be problem. Cecil yours is the harder job I’m afraid. You might have no work and then again you might be inundated by broken pieces. But what you must both realise is that in any situation you are a leader. If any of the sergeants or officers is not there then you are in charge. In a battle or a skirmish you may have to make decisions without a sergeant or officer nearby. You can’t hesitate. Men’s lives may be at stake. You can refuse the promotion.” I gave them a moment. “I will not think any less of you if you refuse. This is a great responsibility.”
They both shook their heads. “No, First Sergeant Hogan, I want the job. I’ll check on the horses now!”
I knew that he was a good choice and I was pleased by his reaction. Cecil stood there and looked about ready to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you recommended me.”
“It was the captain…”
“No sarge, I know. You were the one who asked for me and I promise you I will not let you down. You have always been fair to me even when I was behaving like an idiot. I will keep my temper and be the best corporal in the regiment.”
I cocked my head to one side, “I never thought, for one moment, that you would ever let me down.”
It felt good to be busy again. I had many more duties than before but it filled the morning well. In the afternoon two more troops arrived but there was still neither a colonel nor a major. I think Captain Boswell liked it that way. He had independence for a little while longer. The other two troops were made up of the remnants of two small regiments. Battles, illnesses and age had meant that their numbers had dropped significantly but there were still a hundred in each troop. Our troop, Troop A was still the smallest by a long way. The numbers disparity was partly remedied when George McGill, General Stuart’s aide, brought over fifty men sent from various other regiments. They were paraded in front of the officers and sergeants and I could see why many of them were here. They had the look of malcontents and trouble makers. I later found out that some had fallen foul of bullying sergeants and senior officers but more than half had been in trouble on a number of occasions.
Billy Foster, who was the First Sergeant of B Troop, wandered over to where I was standing with Dago and Jed discussing the latrine digging detail. “Anyone know where I can find your First Sergeant?”
“You’ve found him.”
Billy was a middle aged man with thin grey hair and he looked surprised. “Kinda young aren’t you?”
I could have taken offence but I knew what he meant. I smiled. “I guess we are all a little young in this bunch.” I pointed to Jed and Dago.
Billy laughed, “I see what you mean. We heard that there were some of those bandits, the Wildcats, in the regiment. Have you come across them?”
I put my arm out to restrain Dago. “Actually sarge, we are the Wildcats, or we were and I wouldn’t believe all those stories you might have heard. We fought the war for the Confederacy and we did it behind the enemy lines. The Yankee papers are like all newspapers, they are filled with lies and half truths.”
He shook his head, “Hey I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause offence. Way we heard it you was all mean and nasty.” He looked at us. “You’re not what we expected.”
“One of these nights we’ll tell you what really happened but right now we have fifty men to allocate.”
“That’s why I came over. I know some of these boys. They were trouble and the old colonel got rid of them. There are some bad soldiers here. If you need any help then just ask.”
“I may do. Thanks for the offer and if any of the other sergeants or men is worried about the Wildcats then send them along to see us. We don’t mind telling them the way it was and not the way the Yankee press portrayed it.”
“I will. I have to say that you aren’t what I expected; one tip from an old First Sergeant. When you speak to them for the first time, don’t let anything minor slip by. Jump on the little things. It will make it easier in the long run.”
When he had gone I turned to Dago. “You can’t do a Cecil on us every time someone bad mouths the Wildcats. They won’t know any better until we either show them or tell them. We have a bad name and it is undeserved but we know we are good soldiers. We just have to prove it. Tell the men too.” I gestured with my thumb at the men who were our replacements. They were milling around their newly allocated tents. “These are the boys we are going to have to worry about. Best get them in some sort of order. The captain will want to speak with them.”
“Yes boss!” I heard the cheek in Dago’s voice but I ignored it and went for Captain Boswell.
“The new men are here. I have the sergeants getting them in some sort of order.”
“Thanks sergeant.”
“And sir? I just had the sergeant from Troop B. He reckons he knows some of these boys and they are bad ‘uns.”
“To be honest I expected it. We will just have to do things by the book. Oh and I have just found out who our colonel is. He is an old time soldier, Zebediah Cartwright. According to the general he was a great leader and taught at West Point for a
while. His two sons were killed at Antietam and he is alone now. I think he is coming here to get back at the Yanks for his sons. Tell the boys he is older than we might wish but he is a good man and a great leader. We’ll do him proud.”
The men were standing next to their horses. Our Wildcats were easy to spot; they had the best horses and their weapons and their uniforms looked cared for. Some of the fifty new ones looked like they had no uniform at all. The three officers and we three sergeants faced them while the corporals tried to chivvy them into some kind of order. It was not going well. As we watched the attempt at organising the men Captain Boswell turned to Danny. “Do we still have those spare kepis and slouch hats we used last year?”
“I think so. We stored them in the quartermaster’s stores.”
“When this is over take a couple of men and get all the old, spare equipment we have; even the old carbines we captured and then we will see if they can look like soldiers.” He smiled at us. “I am glad I have you five backing me up here. I think we will have our work cut out with some of these. Let’s do it.”
I strode forwards. I was more nervous than the captain. I had never given an order to so many men before. I stood as tall as I could and I was thankful for my size and a voice hardened by shouting Gales in Atlantic storms. “A Troop! Attention!” Some of them obeyed and I made a mental note of those troopers; they could be the men I worked on to get them on our side. The majority just lounged next to their horse’s head. Most of them had an insolent look about them and were ignoring everyone. One of them was openly grinning defiance at me. I marched over, speaking to all of them as I walked. “When I said attention I meant with a straight back and facing forwards.” The grinning man laughed out loud. I saw Cecil tense and I shook my head. I reached the man. “Do you have a problem standing to attention?” He was at least as big as me and I could see from his broken nose that he was a brawler.