Freedom (Gone For Soldiers)

by Jeffry S. Hepple

  “He’s due back on the 25th. I expect that we’ll hear from Hood before then.”

  July 25, 1864

  Collier’s Mill, Georgia

  Robert shook hands with his nephew. “Good to have you back. Are Tom and Jane on their way home to Texas?”

  “No, sir,” Quincy replied. “They’re in Richmond trying to arrange the exchange of Dr. Mary Edwards Walker. She was Mother’s friend at Castle Thunder.”

  Robert nodded. “Yes. I remember.”

  “So.” Quincy gestured toward the surrounding landscape. “Fill me in. Where are we, why are we here and where are we going next?”

  “This,” Robert said, pointing at the sluggish little stream, “is Peachtree Creek. We’ve possessed it since the 20th when we took it from John Bell Hood.”

  “The 20th? When did Hood replace Johnston?”

  “He assumed Johnston’s command on the 18th. Then, only two days later, he launched an all-out frontal attack on Thomas’s fortifications here. What Hood didn’t know was that Cump had sent Schofield and McPherson to threaten Atlanta from the east. When Hood discovered that, he had to fall back. His casualties were almost five thousand and ours were about fifteen hundred.”

  “Is that when McPherson was killed?”

  “Yes. During the fighting on the east. He was your friend, wasn’t he?”

  “I knew him at West Point, but I think he was Hood’s roommate.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know that, Uncle Robert.”

  “Why should I?”

  “McPherson was first in his class. I thought you always kept track of the West Point scholars.”

  “I did once. When I thought it was important. Lately I’ve discovered that it really doesn’t matter. Some of the worst students have become the best officers. Take your old nemesis Armstrong Custer, for example. He was dead last in his class and he’s proven to be a fine general.”

  Quincy chuckled and shook his head. “Custer’s not my nemesis. You’re thinking of Pea. And it’s more the other way around. Pea never missed an opportunity to insult or assault Custer.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “I think it was mainly because Buford disliked dandies in uniform and Pea idolized Buford.”

  “Custer’s a mild dandy compared to Jeb Stuart.”

  “Custer was far too flamboyant for Buford,” Quincy said with a grin.

  “Did you know that Pea and Custer are both division commanders in Sheridan’s cavalry now?”

  “No. But I wouldn’t worry about it, Uncle Robert. They were boys when the war started. They’ve aged a hundred years since then.”

  “Sad but true,” Robert said.

  “Who’s replacing McPherson?”

  “Howard.”

  “Uh-oh Howard?”

  Robert made a face. “By now he should have lived down that nickname.”

  Quincy shrugged. “How did Hooker react to Howard’s promotion?”

  “He offered his resignation, as you might have expected. His resignation was accepted and Slocum replaced him.”

  “Is Slocum here?”

  “No. He’s still in Vicksburg. Williams is commanding Twentieth Corps until Slocum gets here.”

  “I’ll bet Blair was upset to have been passed over,” Quincy said.

  “Blair and Logan both wrote to Stanton and Lincoln complaining that Cump was giving preference to West Pointers. Stanton wired Cump and asked if that was true. Cump answered that it was indeed true and that he viewed Logan and Blair as volunteers who looked for personal fame and glory to benefit their political ambition, and not as professional soldiers. Stanton didn’t answer.”

  Quincy laughed. “So, what’s next?”

  “We’ll keep hammering until we take Atlanta.”

  July 27, 1864

  Richmond, Virginia

  Tom took Jane’s arm. “I want you to be strong. He’s lost his right leg and his right shoulder’s badly crippled. If you go to pieces – well you can’t, you just can’t. He’s been here trying to get his commission back and they turned him down.”

  Jane took a deep breath, lifted her chin and then nodded. “Bring him in.”

  “You promise not to cry?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  Tom went out into the living room and closed the bedroom door behind him. “I want you to be strong. She might go all to pieces when she sees you.”

  “I understand,” Johnny said. “I’m used to people gasping and staring.”

  Tom opened the door and stepped back to let Johnny walk in on his crutches.

  “Oh look how thin you are,” Jane said. She hurried to Johnny, held his face between her hands and kissed him on the lips.

  “You look well, Mother,” Johnny said.

  Jane gestured toward the loveseat. “Come and sit with me. I want to hear everything.” She walked ahead of him, sat down and patted the cushion. “Are Urilla and little Jefferson with you?”

  “No, they’re not.” Johnny moved closer to the loveseat, turned and lowered himself to sit next to his mother. “I came to Richmond hoping to get my commission back. They said that my handicaps were too extensive and turned me down.”

  Tom pulled the desk chair over to them and sat down. “Maybe next year, after you’ve had more time to recuperate.”

  Johnny smiled. “We all know that there won’t be a Confederacy next year. But I haven’t given up entirely on the idea of rejoining the army before it’s all over.”

  “Isn’t your father-in-law a colonel in the Home Guard?” Tom suggested.

  “Yes.” Johnny bobbed his head. “If all else fails, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll join the Home Guard.” He took Jane’s hand. “So tell me about your visit to Castle Thunder. Any luck in negotiating a trade for Dr. Walker?”

  “We made some progress,” Jane said. “We have an appointment with the prison administration next week.” She took a deep breath. “I understand that Urilla’s father’s plantation is fairly close. Do you think it might be possible for us to see her and the baby?”

  “Of course,” Johnny said. “I’ll send Colonel Murray a wire and tell him to expect you tomorrow.”

  “You won’t be going with us?” Jane asked.

  Johnny shook his head. “Urilla’s learned of a doctor in Canada who makes artificial legs. I’m going up there to get fitted for one. Then I’m going to New York to see a surgeon who may be able to repair my shoulder.”

  Jane started to argue with him but closed her mouth when Tom put his hand on her knee.

  “It’s Johnny’s life,” Tom said.

  Jane nodded. “I promised not to cry but – get out of here. Both of you.”

  July 28, 1864

  Ezra Church, Georgia

  Sherman and Robert Van Buskirk were riding side by side. “Did you see the orders I wrote for Stoneman?” Sherman asked.

  Robert shook his head. “I don’t remember. Why?”

  “A couple of days ago he asked permission to go to Macon and rescue our prisoners of war being held there, and then to push on to Andersonville.”

  “Andersonville,” Robert repeated. “When I was trying to find my sister I read a report about Andersonville. They’re holding as many as twenty-five thousand Union prisoners in a muddy pen with no shelter, no potable water, and nearly no food.”

  Sherman nodded. “I held back Garrard’s division and gave Stoneman permission. I hope I didn’t make the same mistake that Grant made when he sent Sheridan after Stuart.”

  “It wasn’t as simple as that, Cump. Sheridan and Meade were at each other’s throats so…” He ducked as a cannonball ripped the air between them and struck the horse of the orderly who was riding behind them.

  Sherman stood in his stirrups and pointed toward a cloud of gun smoke in the distance. “That gun’s enfilading this road,” he shouted over the screams of the dying horse. “We’d better get out of here.” He pointed downhill toward the valley and gave his horse a kick.

/>   Robert rode out behind him and caught up when they were on the lower ground. “We need to see what’s happening.” He pointed to a nearby hill. “That’s Morgan Smith’s guidon.”

  “We’ll have to walk,” Sherman replied. “That’s too steep for the horses. Can you make it on your gimpy leg?”

  “I think so.” Robert dismounted and tied his reins to a small tree.

  Sherman shaded his eyes. “Wait here. Howard and Logan are over by that house. Let me get a situation report from them first.”

  “Okay.” Robert took a cigar from his coat pocket and sat down with his back against the tree.

  Sherman was back in a short time. “They say there’s an entrenched battery with infantry support at their front, beyond this hill.”

  Robert stood up. “Smith’s position’s still the best to see the whole picture.”

  Sherman dismounted and tied his horse next to Robert’s. “Are you sure you’re up to that climb?”

  “I already told you that. Let’s go.” He struck out toward the hill and didn’t look back until he arrived at the crest where Morgan Smith’s troops were using logs, sod, rocks and fence-rails to build a defensive line. “Told you I could make it,” Robert puffed as Sherman stopped beside him.

  Sherman put his hand to his chest and shook his head.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Out of breath,” Sherman gasped.

  Robert pointed to a scar of freshly turned earth in the field below. “Gun emplacement.”

  Sherman nodded. “What’s that church? I don’t remember seeing it on the map.”

  “Ezra Church,” Smith said as he joined them. “That’s the Poor House next to it.”

  “There’s a lot of activity behind that battery,” Robert said, “but it’s screened by the trees.”

  Smith nodded. “I’ve sent a regiment around the right flank to determine the enemy’s strength and position.”

  “Watch out for Davis’s division,” Sherman warned. “He’s coming up from Turner’s Ferry.”

  “Generals Logan and Blair are over that way,” Smith said.

  Sherman nodded. “I already told them about Davis.”

  “Shouldn’t he be here by now?” Robert asked.

  “Davis?” Sherman looked up at the sun. “Yes he should. Do you think we should go check on him?”

  “Yes,” Robert said. “It looks like Hood’s going to strike at our right flank to keep us from extending it. If his timing’s right, Davis could be in a perfect position to come up behind Hood.”

  Sherman took a deep breath. “Well, going down’s got to be easier than it was climbing up.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Robert grumbled. “You’ve got two good legs.”

  Sherman started down the steep grade. “What is it with you Van Buskirks and leg wounds? Is there even one of you who doesn’t limp?”

  “Other than me, Quincy’s the only other Van Buskirk with a limp.”

  “Johnny.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course. Poor Johnny.”

  ~

  At 11:00 AM, Hood struck the right of the Union line. The fighting continued until about 3:00 PM when Hood withdrew from the field. His casualties after the battle numbered over three thousand. Sherman’s were slightly more than five hundred.

  Convinced that Hood must have weakened his lines of defense inside Atlanta, Sherman sent repeated orders to Schofield and Thomas to make an attempt to break through. Both reported that the parapets of Atlanta were very strong and fully manned.

  The worst news of the day came from the operations south of Atlanta where McCook and Stoneman’s cavalries had failed to cut the railroad line and General Stoneman was captured.

  July 29, 1864

  Petersburg, Virginia

  Burnside was pacing. “We spent all this time training the black troops for this, and now General Meade won’t let me use them.”

  “If you’re thinking about asking me to overrule Meade, think again,” Grant said. “I’ve always thought your tunnel was a harebrained idea. I only permitted it to go forward out of respect for you.”

  “But it could work, General. With the right troops.”

  “Don’t press me on this, General Burnside,” Grant said, raising his voice. “If you want Meade to reconsider, fine. Go talk to Meade. But say one more word to me about this and I’ll cancel the whole operation. Is that abundantly clear?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  Paul Van Buskirk escorted Burnside out, then came back in and closed the door. “You were pretty rough on him, sir.”

  Grant swiped his hand at Paul. “Don’t start.”

  “I wish Uncle Robert was here,” Paul grumbled.

  “You wanna know what I wish?” Grant asked. “I wish Burnside’s tunnel would prematurely detonate and put an end to all the discussion. It was supposed to be a diversion to keep the men from getting bored, not a real military operation. I must have been soft in the head to let it get this far.”

  “It could work,” Paul said.

  Grant gave him an evil look. “Then you sign the order that permits Burnside to proceed as he planned.”

  “How could I?” Paul grumbled. “I don’t even know what Burnside’s plan is.”

  “Exactly. And neither do I. Neither does Meade, for that matter. The only reason Meade got involved was to keep the colored troops from being the first wave. His logic was that it had too many political repercussions if things went wrong. People might say that we sacrificed the colored soldiers because we didn’t care if they died. I happen to agree with him.”

  “So do I, sir, as far as it goes. But Burnside’s point was that he’s trained the colored troops and now he has to use men that have no idea what they’re supposed to do.”

  “How hard can it be? The explosives in the tunnel blow up the fort, then our men storm the walls and capture all the Rebs that weren’t killed by the blast. Simple as that.”

  “When is this going to happen?” Paul asked.

  Grant shrugged. “Sometime tonight.”

  “Could you be a bit more specific, please? I’d like to be awake and at a safe distance from Burnside’s tunnel when the explosion occurs.”

  “I don’t remember the time. Just before dawn would be the most logical.”

  ~

  When Burnside arrived back at his quarters he called his division commanders together, explained that Meade insisted that the assault would be undertaken by white troops and asked for volunteers. When no volunteers came forward, Burnside wrote their names on slips of paper, put them in his hat and drew the name of Brigadier General James H. Ledlie, the commander of his 1st Division.

  July 30, 1864

  Petersburg, Virginia

  Burnside’s plan was to detonate the explosives in the tunnel at 3:30 AM. The fuse was lit in a timely fashion but there was no explosion. At 4:00 AM, two volunteers crawled in and discovered that the fuse had burned out at a splice. The fuse was relit and the explosion went off about forty minutes later tossing bodies, cannons and tons of dirt into the air. The resulting crater was almost two hundred feet long, a hundred feet wide and thirty feet deep.

  Ten minutes after the dust settled, the 1st Division moved forward without General Ledlie, who was passed out drunk in his quarters. The officers and noncoms on duty, who had no clear idea of what to do, simply ordered the men forward. When the troops at last reached the site of the explosion, many of the men, who’d been told nothing in advance, took up firing positions inside the crater.

  During that same time, Confederate General William Mahone gathered all available troops to form around the crater, encircling the Union soldiers, and killing them like fish in a barrel.

  After hearing of the slaughter, Burnside sent Ferrero’s division of US Colored Troops to reinforce the 1st Division. However, by the time that Ferrero’s men were on the field, Confederate General Bushrod Johnson had gathered both troops and artillery at the edges of the crater.

  The battle raged hand-to-hand fo
r several hours until the Confederates were finally able to sweep all of the Union troops from within their lines. In the end, there were almost four thousand Federal casualties to about fifteen hundred Confederates.

  The following day Meade brought charges against Generals Burnside, Ledlie and Ferrero, among others.

  August 13, 1864

  Orchard Hill Plantation, Virginia

  Jane kissed Urilla on the cheek. “Dr. Mary Edwards Walker was exchanged yesterday, so we just wanted to see you once more before we started back to Texas.”

  “And we wanted to find out if you’d heard from Johnny,” Tom added.

  “I had a letter from him saying that he’d arrived in Canada, but nothing since,” Urilla said.

  “If things turn sour here, or if for any reason…” Tom shrugged.

  “We’d love to have you come to Texas,” Jane finished for him.

  Tom nodded. “We had a big ranch before Texas became a state. After the Mexican War, the Federal government took it from us and gave it to the Comanches. Then, when Texas seceded from the Union, our lawyers got the land put back in our name. It’s a beautiful place. Perfect for a new start.”

  “I’ll mention that to Johnny,” Urilla said.

  Jane knelt to hug Jefferson, then stood up and wiped away a tear. “We had better go before I make a fool of myself.”

  Tom patted Jefferson on the head, took Jane’s arm and led her toward the waiting coach.

  “Good-bye.” Jefferson raised his hand.

  August 20, 1864

  Before Atlanta, Georgia

  On the 18th of August, Major General Quincy Van Buskirk had sent Brigadier General Judson Kilpatrick to raid Confederate supply lines. Kilpatrick struck the Atlanta and West Point Railroad on the first evening, then the Jonesborough supply depot on the Macon and Western Railroad during the following day.