Stonewall Goes West: A Novel of The Civil War and What Might Have Been (Stonewall Goes West Trilogy) (8 page)

Jackson nodded, aware of the bitter feuding between the western army’s former commander, Braxton Bragg, and his generals. Both as a former teacher and as an officer, Jackson was quite familiar with the sinful character flaws of which Lee spoke, and he agreed completely. He also thought of these failings as part of the reason the war had dragged on at such dear cost.

While Jackson was absolutely certain in his conviction that God recognized the Confederacy, with all its flaws, as the true heirs of the Revolution and of His blessings of liberty, and wanted it to prevail, he was equally certain the nation was atoning for each and every one of its sins along the way. God wanted them to suffer, wanted them penitent, so they would emerge from the war a better, purer country.

Lee paused again, and silently decided that he would not point out that Jackson was one of those hot tempered, too stubborn men as well, as he had considered doing. It was not his place to chide Jackson so. Instead he chose to limit himself to one word of advice, something less personal.

Lee said “I have had to deal with many such people in this army, as have you. Some of our officers have talents of such promise that I overlook their personal shortcomings. I know you understand.”

“Yes, yes” Jackson said. He thought of A.P. Hill’s disobedient, impatient temper, or Ewell’s former and Early’s current profanity and blasphemy.

Lee went on. “There are other officers, however, who sadly have enjoyed no such redeeming traits. Men who were either not suited to their duties, or else were so ill-tempered that they caused us more problems than their merits could ever outweigh. Daniel Hill, for example.”

Jackson nodded in agreement, but shifted uncomfortably. Daniel Harvey Hill had been an outstanding fighter and division commander in Lee’s army, but the man was short-tempered, easily irritated and fond of finding fault with just about everyone, including his superiors. Consciously or not, D.H. Hill had been a font of contention and disunity.

He was also Jackson’s brother-in-law. Lee had consulted Jackson about Hill’s reassignment to North Carolina, and while Jackson had not liked it, he had concurred. Hill had made his own bed. If Jackson had been in Lee’s place, he might have preferred charges over a polite transfer.

Lee’s tone shifted, rising and stiffening from pleasant conversation into kindly lecture. “One of the strengths of this army has been the many excellent officers with which it has been blessed. Yet I did not begin with an army led by so many worthy men. I had to send away many, many unsatisfactory officers. You know this, but what you might not be aware of is I never could have done this, nor been allowed to follow my own plans as I have done, if I did not enjoy the confidence of the President.”

“There have been past misunderstandings between yourself and President Davis,” Lee continued. “In this army’s operations, you have always been reclusive, secretive about your plans, with your subordinates and sometimes with good reason, but never with me. Now you must be as open with President Davis as you have ever been with me. You must confide in him, let no past grievances come between you. If I enjoy my own discretion in my commanders and my plans, it is because Davis trusts me. As do our people. You already have the one, Thomas. Part of your duty as an army commander is to cultivate the other.”

If any other man had said this to Jackson, he would have ignored him or rebuked him for his presumption. But not Lee. Jackson had never modeled himself on Lee, for he recognized and accepted they were men of two very different temperaments, yet he still admired him as no other living soul.

Jackson sat silently, registering no emotion, but Lee could see he had absorbed his advice, and said “Now, I do not need to tell you that your company will be dearly missed here. I am not sure what fare can be found on such short notice, but I would be delighted if you and General Stuart would join me for supper. On some night in the next few days.”

Jackson smiled. Despite their many differences, the flamboyant Stuart was his best friend in the Army of Northern Virginia. “Sir, I would be pleased and honored to join you and General Stuart. Send word of when, and I shall be there.”

The conversation continued for some time after that. Jackson asked how much of his military family, the staff who had served him since the Valley, he would be allowed to take to Georgia. Lee insisted on retaining the services of Jed Hotchkiss, stating that the mapmaker’s mastery of the Virginia landscape was crucial to the coming year. Jackson argued for a time, but ultimately conceded. Lee then thanked him, congratulated him again, shook his hand, and sent him on his way.

Upon returning to his tent, Jackson sat down and thought about what to do next. There would be the transition, both he and his people would need to hand over the corps to his successor, probably A.P. Hill. He would almost certainly be called to Richmond, to confer with the War Department and President Davis.

The thought gave him a warm sense of anticipation. All this made Christmas in Richmond a very real possibility, and that would make his wife Anna very happy, especially as soon afterward he would be posted farther away than ever. The only redeeming feature of his summer-long recuperation in Lexington, Virginia was that he spent it in his own home, with his own family. He knew very well that this would be his last chance to spend time with his wife and daughter for at least a year.

Jackson turned his thoughts to his military family. Those people who were coming with him would all receive leave before taking up duties in Georgia, of course. Jackson sadly realized he would likely have to part with Jim Lewis, his servant and cook, and long since a dear friend and companion. He was a hired slave, and Lewis’s elderly master would likely not let him go to Georgia.

I will not buy him, Jackson thought, not even to keep him with me. I have no desire to acquire any more slaves, not under any circumstances. I should send him to home to Lexington, to help Anna care for little Julia. Yes, that will do.

Jackson sent for Sandie Pendleton. The boyish chief of staff had been requesting leave to marry his sweetheart, Kate Corbin, since summer. Sandie entered Jackson’s tent moments later, for he was never very far from corps headquarters if he could help it.

“Sandie,” Jackson said, “You had best write to Ms. Corbin and her family, and make your wedding plans. I’ll grant your leave shortly. I doubt you will have another before the end of the war.”

December 9

Late afternoon

The Executive Mansion

Richmond

Davis waited in his office for the arrival of Thomas J. Jackson, newly minted as the Confederate States Army’s seventh full general, feeling completely satisfied with the way things had turned out. He had gotten his way, and his enemies in the Congress were utterly routed.

The most effective of those enemies had been Senator Wigfall, the blowhard from Texas, the
antebellum
friend who had betrayed him in the name of petty politics. Predictably, Wigfall praised Jackson, while condemning Davis for “vindictively humiliating that great soldier, Joseph E. Johnston, leaving him with an empty title and no role in the war proper to his dignity and commensurate to his prowess.”

Wigfall had always had a talent for fiery oratory, Davis had to give him that. Yet Davis’s political enemies, Wigfall included, always suffered from one key weakness: they were no organized party as such, united only by their opposition to Davis and his policies. They quarreled with each other as much as they quarreled with him.

Davis’s own partisans in the Congress spoke out on the need to not shackle a man of Jackson’s demonstrated ability, to give him the proper scope to win victories, and of the need to act quickly. With the thinly veiled threat to veto any bill that was not Davis’s own lurking in the background, no alternative bill was presented, and Jackson’s appointment passed unanimously, with his promotion dated to October 14, the date of Second Kettle Run. Even the President’s bitterest opponents did not dare vote openly against the Confederacy’s foremost hero, choosing instead to skulk away in abstention.

And so the War Department summoned Jackson to Richmond, where knew he had reported first to Mechanics’ Hall, the seat of the War Department, to receive orders and to meet with Secretary Seddon and Adjutant General Samuel Cooper. Those were mere formalities, however. As Davis well knew, it was the first meeting between himself and his newest commander that mattered most.

Davis began to dwell memories of the Romney fiasco, which had never been far from his thoughts since deciding upon Jackson’s promotion. Since that unpleasant misunderstanding, relations between the two men had been decidedly cool. Because of that, Davis had chosen to ignore Jackson as much as possible, but after Jackson’s wounding at Chancellorsville, he had already come to regard that choice as one of his very rare mistakes. Starting with Jackson’s convalescence, Davis had made some gestures at repairing the breach. Now it was time to finish the job.

“I bent over backwards and swallowed my own bile for months, placating Johnston in futility,” Davis muttered to himself. “Will I do less for Stonewall?”

Davis sighed. He had been to West Point and came out of the Mexican War a successful leader of men, covered in glory. His dearest wish in the this conflict was to command an army in the field himself, not to be chained to office and the petty politicking that went with it, no matter how high the office might be.

The President’s preoccupation came to an end when a clerk informed him that General Jackson had arrived. Burton Harrison ushered Jackson into Davis’s office.

Jackson was wearing his best uniform, which while clean and freshly ironed, showed some signs of weathered fading and wear. Jackson drew himself up and offered a stiff salute.

Davis saluted back, and motioned for Jackson to be seated. “Would you care for some coffee? Or perhaps tea?” he inquired.

“Only some water, thank you, Mr. President,” Jackson replied, sitting with his one thumb sticking up. Davis nodded at Harrison, who left to fetch it.

Taking his seat, Davis asked “How was your journey? And that of your family? I trust they are well. I understand you are staying in General Lee’s house, on Franklin Street?”

“My family is very well, thank you, and yes, we are guests there. Although I fear we might be too much of a burden on Mrs. Lee, I believe she and her daughters appreciate the company for Christmas.”

Davis nodded. He knew Mary Lee suffered badly from arthritis.

Jackson asked “And your own family, Mr. President?”

Davis smiled pleasantly, thinking of his hellion brood and their high-spirited antics. “We manage. I confess I find fatherhood a state uplifting and trying, and both in the extreme.”

Jackson nodded, but said nothing. Davis decided it was time to begin their real business. “General Jackson, I understand that you are a stranger to the western army, to the western theater. You will need some time to take the reins, to become acquainted with the army, the situation. However, I was hoping that you might have some general ideas on how the coming campaign should be conducted.”

Jackson said emphatically “Yes, yes. I do. The army must endeavor to threaten and reverse the enemy’s gains in East and Middle Tennessee.”

“Some have advocated a more Fabian policy” Davis replied, testing Jackson with an idea he did not really endorse. “Since the most important Yankee objective in the west is now Atlanta, that counsel is to concentrate at Dalton, forestall the enemy advance, and make them pay a high price for every yard of Georgia’s soil.”

Jackson shook his head in disapproval. “No, no. We must seize and retain the initiative, and that can only be accomplished by advancing. The alternative is, as you say, to fall back upon Atlanta, fighting to delay and in hope that the enemy will make a mistake. Even if the enemy should blunder and provide such an opening, a victory would, in all likelihood, only force a retreat no farther than to Chattanooga, which by all reports is now a fortress and well-stocked with supplies. There would then be no repetition of this past autumn’s siege of that place, Mr. President.”

“I believe,” Jackson continued, “that victories are won by the party blessed with audacity, celerity and surprise. In this way a weaker army, and our armies will almost always prove weaker in numbers than those of the enemy, might concentrate against only a part of the stronger, and inflict defeat in detail upon it. Many such victories build confidence, and make an army invincible.”

“How do you propose to accomplish this?”

“That I cannot say,” Jackson admitted. “As you have said, Mr. President, I am unfamiliar with both the army and the terrain.” Pausing for a moment, he added “I can say that I believe the west offers greater opportunities for maneuver than the east. It is a vast place, compared to Virginia, where our contests with the Army of the Potomac all occur in the rectangle formed by the Blue Ridge, the Chesapeake, Washington and Richmond. That rectangle is bisected by several rivers, not much more than a hundred miles wide for the most part, and makes a severely constrained place for two large armies.”

Jackson went on. “I also believe that we must take the war to the enemy, and by that I mean we must bring the war into the homes of the civilian population of the northern states. If we hope for them to discontinue their efforts to subjugate our people, we must break the Yankee nation as well as the Yankee armies. Unfortunately, in the west, I believe this is impractical at the present time. Too much occupied territory separates our base from the northern heartland. But if we can reoccupy Tennessee? I would make Ohio and Indiana howl.”

Davis recalled Jackson’s proposals, from early in the war, to send strong raiding parties into the North, with orders to lay waste to farms, tear up railroads, and destroy factories. Davis was unsure if such measures would break or stiffen Yankee resolve, but he had been certain that raising the black flag at that time would have alienated European support.

He inquired “But from the sound of it, that is for much later, yes?”