Crossing (28 page)

Yancy knew Jackson thoroughly believed that the fewer people that knew the movements of his men, the fewer chances the enemy had to learn them.

Jackson continued, “General Lee has assigned us to Harpers Ferry.”

The cadets exchanged puzzled looks.

“Yes, the same Harpers Ferry that John Brown took,” Jackson said somberly. “We all witnessed his execution. The reason he took Harpers Ferry is that it is both a strategic and tactical target. Tactical because it’s a United States arsenal. The arsenal, with its ordnance manufacture, consists in a complex of government buildings, including an armory, an arsenal, and an enginehouse. And it’s a strategic target because a main stem of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad runs right through the town. In fact, it has double tracks, running east-west and west-east. Tons and tons of coal from the Appalachian mines in the Midwest run through that line to the East. And there’s a bridge across the Potomac at Harpers Ferry that runs through Maryland on its way to Baltimore and Washington. And that means supplies going to the Federal army.”

Owens, Stevens, and Satterfield all looked at Yancy. He seemed to have been elected the speaker for them, since he was in some ways closer to Colonel Jackson because he had worked for the Jacksons. “Sir, if I may ask, what will be the 1
^st
Brigade’s responsibility there? What is our mission?”

Jackson didn’t grin, but his habitually stern expression lightened to one of amusement. “We’re going to kidnap a railroad.”

Colonel Thomas Jackson, commanding officer of the Confederate troops stationed at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, lodged a formal complaint with the president of the B & O Railroad, John W. Garrett of Baltimore. The trains disturbed his men at night, and Colonel Jackson demanded that they come through Harpers Ferry at about noon. Mr. John W. Garrett was hardly in a position to to argue with the Confederate officer who held the major railroad bridge over the Potomac. The loaded trains began running westeast from 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.

But then there were the empties returning east-west at night, and again Colonel Jackson complained and demanded that the dual tracks be scheduled so that the trains ran only around the noon hour. Again he was accommodated, and for two hours a day Harpers Ferry was the busiest railroad hub in America.

At noon on May 23, less than a month after he and his brigade had arrived in Harpers Ferry, Jackson ordered his troops to seal off each end of the thirty-two-mile-long sector that he held. The trains were trapped. By the time the final tally was done, Colonel Jackson had kidnapped fifty-six locomotives and more than three hundred cars.

Another hostage was kidnapped during this raid—a nondescript, rather small reddish mare with soft brown eyes and a coltish gait. Colonel Jackson determined to give her as a gift to Anna, but he grew so fond of her that he kept her for his own mount, conscientously paying the quartermaster for her value. Little Sorrel she was called, and somehow Colonel Jackson sensed she would be with him to the very end of the road.

C
olonel Thomas Jackson’s “kidnapping” of a railroad resounded throughout the South, and he enjoyed some good publicity. However, a few days after this famous exploit was completed, Jackson was abruptly replaced. Brigadier General Joseph E. Johnston arrived at Harpers Ferry to take command. Jackson quietly stepped aside. General Johnston did give him command over the 1
^st
Virginia Brigade that he had formed and had so carefully and ceaselessly trained.

In the middle of June, Federal troops began amassing on the Maryland side of the river, a force of about eighteen thousand under United States General Robert Patterson, a rather elderly and slow-moving, cautious officer. Still, General Johnston felt threatened that the superior force might outflank his 6,500 troops, so he withdrew to Winchester, about thirty miles southwest of Harpers Ferry. Jackson and his 1
^st
Brigade were dispatched to Martinsburg, about twenty miles north. Colonel Jeb Stuart and his cavalry were ordered to observe the Federals and immediately give word if they showed any signs of crossing the Potomac.

In his position, Jackson saw nothing of the enemy and no activity was reported to him. But one thing did happen that reduced the difficulty of being relieved of his command … and of his boredom in Martinsburg. On June 17, he received his commission as brigadier general in the army of the Confederate States of America.

As it happened, Chuckins Satterfield was in Jackson’s camp tent transcribing some of Jackson’s dictation when the courier from Richmond arrived with the orders for Jackson’s promotion. He witnessed the courier deliver the papers and swear Jackson in. After the courier left, Chuckins jumped to attention and said, “Sir! May I be the first to congratulate you, sir, on your commission, General Jackson, sir!”

“You may. Thank you,” he answered succinctly. “Sit down, Sergeant Satterfield, and continue your work.”

“Yes, sir!” Chuckins sat back down to his dreary paperwork.

Surreptitiously he watched the brand-new general, but Jackson showed no outward signs of excitement or elation at his promotion. He sat calmly at his desk, his pen endlessly scratching across paper.

Finally Chuckins could stand it no longer. “Sir? General Jackson? Would it be all right if I took a short break to have a cup of coffee, sir?”

Jackson didn’t look up; his pen scratched and scritched. “Dismissed.”

Chuckins ran out, grabbed the first soldier he saw, and told the news.

Soon everyone in the 1
^st
Brigade had heard that they were now commanded by a brigadier general. And they were proud. Though Jackson had none of the glad-handing, backslapping ways of many powerful men, he carried with him an unmistakable air of authority, of sure and certain knowledge and understanding, and of honor and integrity. To a man and to the utmost they respected him and trusted him. It may even be said that they loved him.

When Jackson heard Colonel Jeb Stuart was riding into the camp, just outside of Martinsburg, with the usual drama, he came hurrying out of his tent to greet his friend.

Stuart galloped full speed through the camp, coming to a stop by abruptly reining in his magnificent mount, who skidded to a stop, threw his head up, reared and pawed the air, and came to a furious stamping halt. Jeb Stuart jumped off, throwing the reins to one of his escorts. As usual, he was greeted by the soldier’s whoops and calls.

Stuart stopped before Jackson, came to a parade attention, and then saluted beautifully. “May I congratulate you, General Jackson, on your well-deserved promotion. It is an honor to serve under you, sir.”

Jackson returned his salute and said quietly, “You serve with me, Colonel Stuart. We serve God and the Confederacy.”

They went into Jackson’s tent where they stayed for about an hour. Then Colonel Stuart and his escorts left, as dashing and daring as they had arrived.

Jackson then called in Yancy and Peyton. “You two men go to all the commanders of the regiments and tell them we’ll be marching within the hour. Light field packs. Sergeant Stevens, tell General Pendleton to get the guns ready to move into Martinsburg.”

They saluted and ran off to alert the command that they were moving to battle, the first fighting that they had seen.

Tethered by his tent was Midnight, and when Yancy ran to saddle him up, he saw that a private from Lexington named Henry Birdwell was visiting Midnight, stroking his nose and feeding him some dried corn.

When he saw Yancy, he snapped to attention and saluted.

“At ease, Birdie,” Yancy said, returning a careless salute.

Henry Birdwell had joined Captain Reese Gilmer’s Raphine Company, of the 33
^rd
Virginia Regiment, the unit that Yancy had trained in Richmond. Now they were part of the 1
^st
Brigade.

Captain Reese Gilmer was the ultimate Southern gentleman. He owned a cotton plantation, about thirty slaves, and his family could be traced back to the Mayflower. He was a good soldier and a good leader, and he had managed to recruit about one hundred men from his small central village of Raphine and the farms and plantations beyond. Henry Birdwell had been employed as a stable boy at Raphine Plantation, and he had immediately signed up for Reese Gilmer’s company.

Henry Birdwell was one year older than Yancy, but he seemed much younger, with his open face, mild brown eyes, and short brown hair with a pronounced cowlick. He loved horses, though his family had always been too poor to buy saddle horses. He especially loved Midnight, for the high-bred stallion responded to him with a friendliness and glad whinny that was rare, except for Yancy and his family.

“Go get ready, Birdie,” Yancy told him. “We’re going to march out soon.”

Birdwell blinked in the bright morning sunlight. “Are we going to fight, Sergeant Tremayne?”

“General Jackson doesn’t confide in the likes of me,” Yancy replied lightly. “All I know is that we’re marching out. Here, you want to help me saddle him up?”

“Yes, sir.” Quickly the private gave Midnight’s back a brush-down then laid one of Yancy’s fine soft Indian blankets on his back.

As they were saddling Midnight, Yancy asked, “Why are you here, Birdie? Why are you fighting?”

“They called us. And I wanted to fight for Captain Reese and General Jackson,” he answered simply. “We all knew General Jackson in Lexington. We all wanted to fight with him.”

Yancy nodded. “I know what you mean.”

Birdie continued, “I still want to fight, but … I sure hope the war’s over soon, like the newspapers say. I’ve got a girlfriend, Ellen Mae Simpkins. She’s a maid at Raphine Plantation. When I get home we’re going to get married.”

“That’s good, Birdie,” Yancy said quietly. “I know you’ll be happy. Now, go on. Go get ready to march.”

He saluted. “Yes, sir!” he said snappily and turned and ran off like a boy on his way to his favorite fishing hole.

Within an hour, the brigade was ready to march. General Jackson rode forward and, without a word, led the way out of camp. They pushed hard all morning long. It was late in the afternoon before Jackson ordered the brigade to halt. He called all his aides and commanding officers together.