Grant Comes East - Civil War 02 (42 page)

"Sir, but of course. However, you being new to the East, sir, I daresay that there are unique aspects to the Army of the Potomac that will take time to fully understand."

"It is but one component of the armies of our republic. It will be run like any other army, will fight like I expect every army to fight, will answer my commands, and will see this war through to its proper conclusion."

Sickles said nothing, the smile frozen on his face.

"You, sir, have direct field command; that was the decision of the secretary of war and President Lincoln. I hope, sir, that you fully understand that responsibility and live up to the obligation of your command and the obligation to lead your men properly."

Sickles's features darkened.

"Sir. I fought with those men through the Peninsula and every campaign since right to Union Mills," his words coming out forced, through clenched teeth. "I think, sir, I do not need to be lectured on my obligation to my men."

Grant sat back in his chair, the silence in the tent chilling.

"I don't think General Grant meant any offense to you personally," Elihu interrupted.

"I should hope not I know my men and they know me. If I had been listened to at Chancellorsville, at Gettysburg on the second day, at Union Mills, we would not be in the fix we now find ourselves in."

"I will not dispute your suggested decisions in those battles, General Sickles," Grant replied. "I am just stating that in the future you will coordinate your actions with my direct orders. If we understand that, sir, I know we will work together well."

"Fine then, sir," Sickles responded, voice still strained, "I understand what you are saying. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"Regarding the Nineteenth Corps."

"Sir?" Now his features shifted in an instant to open-faced innocence. "Is there a problem with their shipment to Philadelphia?"

"No. It is just that they will be detailed to this army here in Harrisburg."

"Sir. Is that prudent? I am outnumbered and Lee's army is little more than thirty miles away while you are here, a hundred miles from the front"

"You have the mile-wide Susquehanna between you and him, that river patrolled by gunboats. I doubt seriously if General Lee will make any demonstration against you, and the men you have, who as you said are all veterans, would certainly be more than a match if he tried to force a crossing. I am confident you can hold with the numbers you have."

Sickles's features were again frozen, as if he was calculating his chances of winning the argument.

"I understand, General," he said quietly.

"Fine then, I hope you may join my staff and me for dinner tonight."

"Yes, thank you, sir."

Sickles stood up to leave.

"And, General Sickles, one more thing," Grant said casually, as if he was about to address a minor issue. "Yes?"

"A week and a half ago I passed through Perryville after my visit to Washington. I went looking for you, in order to have this meeting. Your staff claimed you could not be found."

"Sir, I was surprised to hear that you were in the area. I was out inspecting units in the field. I hurried back but you had already taken train and left."

"Next time, sir, when I visit the Army of the Potomac, I expect to see its commander as well."

"I apologize for the failure of my staff, sir." "Fine then, that's all."

Sickles stiffened, features red, saluted, which salute Grant returned while remaining seated, and left. Elihu exhaled noisily.

"I hate to say it, Grant, but even I could use a drink after that."

Grant looked over at him coldly, and Elihu smiled in apology.

"Well, you certainly blistered the paint off of him."

"Had to be done. Let's hope he toes the line now. In private I'll admit he has the makings of a good general in him, a good tactical sense. I
studied the reports on Chancel
lorsville, and the man was indeed right
.
If he had pushed forward as he wanted, he'd have taken Jackson apart on that flanking march. He has the stomach for a fight

"But he's too
much like our old friend McCl
ern
and; he doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut and is always looking for his own political gain."

"And you fired McClernand," Elihu said.

"I hope that was different
.
Frankly, if I could bring that man to be part of my command, he might prove his mettle as well. At least he fights, and that's more than can be said for a lot of corps commanders. I'm willing to give him his chance. He had the guts to give it back to me a bit, which I respect. Let's see if he can give it back to Lee when the time comes."

"That comment about the liquor, that was uncalled for," Elihu replied sharply.

"You just asked for a drink yourself."

Elihu shrugged.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I'm past that now. Remember, I made a promise to Lincoln on it and I find he's one man whose respect I want"

Elihu smiled.

"I know what you mean. He's grown. He's not the same man at all I put up for nomination three years ago. He's only seven years older than me, and yet I feel like he's ancient now."

Elihu looked off and smiled.

"I know you won't lose your nerve. I think that in what's to come, their president really doesn't matter. It's down to Lee or Lincoln and who will break first. That's what will decide it."

Grant said nothing. His cigar had gone out and he tossed it aside, fished in his pocket for another, and, striking a match, he puffed it to life.

"It's going to be a hot day," he said quietly.

The
band played "Dixie" for what must have been the tenth time as the last of Beauregard's men marched past, hats off, cheering. As Lee watched, yet again he was caught up in that fleeting moment when war did indeed have glory to it.

The Army of Northern Virginia, except for Pickett's division, which had been assigned garrison duty within the city, and Scales's, which still shadowed Washington, was encamped in the fields west of Baltimore, along the line of fortifications that had been so easily pierced three weeks before.

The parade ground for this grand review had been carefully chosen by Walter Taylor. A gently sloping ridge, where the famed divisions of the Army of Northern Virginia could deploy across a front of nearly two miles, regiment after regiment, the hard-fighting battalions from Virginia, Georgia, Texas, the Carolinas, Florida, Mississippi, and Alabama. The heroes of Fredericksburg, of Gettysburg, and of Union Mills. Shot-torn standards were proudly held aloft, whipping in the stiff afternoon breeze. The day was still bathed in sunlight, though the western horizon was dark with approaching storms.

Before them, across the broad, open valley, the twenty thousand men that Beauregard had brought to Maryland had advanced in columns of company front, the men in general ragged and lean, veterans of the hard-fought campaigns in the swamps around Charleston, their uniforms sun bleached to light gray or butternut.
A few regiments were neatly at
tired, militia units from Georgia and North Carolina that till now had known only soft duty, the occasional chasing down of deserters or Unionist bushwhackers up in the hills. These men were dressed in solid gray, carried backpacks, their muskets shiny.

The arriving units had paraded down the length of the Army of Northern Virginia, passing beneath sharp, hardened eyes, veterans, some only seventeen years old but still veterans, who looked appraisingly, nodding with approval at the boys from Charleston, remaining silent at the sight of the militia, in their hearts concerned but also smugly glad because the stay-at-homes were now going to see the "elephant" for real.

The unwritten orders from Lee's headquarters had been sharp and clear. The men of Beauregard's command, now officially the Third Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia, were to be greeted as brothers, no taunts, no airs; if victory was to be finally theirs, their blood would be needed as well.

As the last of Beauregard's men marched the two-mile length of the review, Wade Hampton's brigade put in their appearance, Jeb Stuart in the lead, his arm still in a sling from the bullet taken in Baltimore. The troopers deployed out, drew sabers, forming a battlefront a quarter-mile wide, keeping alignment, advancing first at walk, bugles sounding the walk to trot, and then a canter. The waning sun, disappearing behind the roiling storm clouds, reflected off a thousand drawn blades. "Charge!"

Stuart was in the lead by half a dozen lengths, hat blown off, mouth open, shouting the command, then roaring with delight as the troopers, leaning over in their saddles, blades pointed forward, broke into a mad gallop. A wild rebel yell erupted from the charging line, to be greeted by the enthusiastic roar of the watching army, tens of thousands of voices commingling, battle flags held aloft, waving back and forth, the music of the band drowned out, even the musicians now lowering their instruments and joining in the cheer, the music far more piercing and soul-stirring than anything they could ever hope to create.

On the slope above the army, tens of thousands of civilians from Baltimore, who had come out to witness the show, joined in the cheering as well.

Unable to contain himself, Lee stood tall in his stirrups, Traveler's head up, ears pricked back, as if ready to join in the mad dash sweeping before them, the thunder of the charge echoing, and then drowned out as ten batteries, deployed to Lee's left, fired a salute of fifty guns, the thumping roar booming down the line, the cheering of the men redoubling at the thunder of the guns, stirring the blood, filling all with the vision of all that they had done, and all they would still do when next the guns fired for real.

The last echo of one of the heavy thirty-pounders drifted away. The smoke swirled and eddied eastward, driven by the wind of the approaching storm, the distant heavens matching the reports with the roll of thunder, the shimmering golden light of the sun now disappearing behind the dark, gray-green clouds.

Stuart, turning out from the charging line, cantered up to Lee, sweat glistening on his face, and with drawn saber he saluted; his mount, with a gentle urging, lowering his head and lifting a front leg in salute as well.

Grinning, Lee returned the salute.

"Magnificent, General Stuart," he proclaimed, "a fitting climax to a glorious day."

All along the two-mile line, commands echoed from division generals, to brigadiers, to regimental commanders.

Hundreds of fifers and drummers picked up the beat, music playing, regiments forming into dense columns to march back to their encampments. Those closest to Lee, parading past, holding hats aloft, cheered him and the president of the Confederacy by his side.

Lee looked over at Davis, normally so sphinx
-
like. He was smiling, breathing hard.

"By the Almighty, General Lee, with an army such as this we can lick the world," Davis proclaimed.

And for a moment he believed it as well, swept into the passion of it all, the tens of thousands of his men, rested, fit, well fed, eager now to go back into the fray and finish it. They had never known real defeat, they had taken Baltimore without effort, they had brought another state into the Confederacy, and now they were reinforced back up to a strength of over fifty thousand rifles and two hundred and fifty artillery pieces. He knew that in the next action they could sweep the field again. He could see it in their eyes, these men confident of victory. And their spirit leapt into his soul. They were ready.

A pavilion of open-sided tents had been set up atop the slope, the tents linked together to form a vast covered area that could accommodate several hundred people. Tonight there would be a ball, the finest of Baltimore invited to attend with their ladies. Dinner would be a "special repast in the tradition of the Army of Northern Virginia"—fried and basted salt pork served with a sprinkling of ground hardtack, the first sweet corn of the season, and "Confederate coffee" made with chickory. It would be seen as delightful and quaint, the talk of a city so used to dining on far better fare. The cooks, of course, were substituting fresh bacon for the salt pork, the topping was made with real bread crumbs, and since the army was awash in captured coffee, the real treat would be provided instead, but still the officers and guests would wink at the substitution. One of the famed Booth family, who by chance was in Baltimore when the city was taken, would provide the after-dinner entertainment with dramatic excerpts from Shakespeare's plays, and then the

Regimental Band from the Twenty-sixth North Carolina would offer a selection of waltzes, polkas, and reels.

Lee with Davis, Beauregard, Benjamin, and Stuart at his side rode up to the pavilion. Longstreet and Hood, coming over from their respective commands, arrived at the pavilion just behind Lee.

Hood was positively beaming; he had always been one to enjoy such pageantry, and for once the mood between him and Stuart was openly jovial. Dismounting, Lee looked over at Longstreet, who stood to one side, and approached.

"Did you enjoy the parade?"

"You know I find them to be a bit tiresome, sir. Rather have the men out drilling."