Crossing (27 page)

Yancy swallowed hard. “Major Jackson, I believe he is an honorable man, anxious to serve Virginia and the Confederacy. He is humble enough to know that he hasn’t had the training that we have had, and so he eagerly learns all of our drills. But he still maintains a dignified control over his men and has an officer-like demeanor. He is anxious both for himself and his men to prove themselves brave and unwavering soldiers in this war.”

“Good, good,” Jackson said, scribbling notes. “And, Cadet Tremayne, take notice of any particular men who distinguish themselves, whether in zeal or determination or marksmanship. I shall expect that in your further reports.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jackson looked up at him in the dim candle glow. “Cadet Tremayne, did you know that Robert E. Lee was appointed general of all forces in Virginia?”

Yancy’s face lit up. “No, sir, we had not heard. This is good news, sir.”

“Good news indeed. I had the privilege of serving under him in Mexico, and he has proved himself to be a good friend to me ever since then. And this means that things will change and quickly.”

Yancy hesitated, for Major Jackson was a private man who always kept his counsel to himself. But then he reflected that the major had offered him this information, and therefore this opening. Summoning his courage, he asked, “Sir, please explain to me what you mean. Will the Virginia Volunteers be called up soon? Maybe immediately?”

Somewhat to Yancy’s surprise, Jackson didn’t reprimanded him for his impertinence, and he did not hesitate. “Yes, they will. I’m certain. So drill them hard, Cadet Tremayne. Train them on orders and formations and the march, but especially drill them on small-arms battle and the bayonet. Soon even these young men will be facing battle, and I know that with the training of the institute, they will give a good accounting and serve out the enemy with all fury.”

Major Thomas Jackson was not a man to be content babysitting raw recruits when the Confederacy was at war. Governor John Letcher was a Rockbridge County man and knew Jackson well. Jackson had come to the attention of Robert E. Lee when serving under him in Mexico, and several years earlier Lee had highly recommended him for a position at the University of Virginia. Jackson had also met other influential friends in Richmond, and he diligently sought his friends’ backings to get a position and a post in the army.

His strategy worked. A mere six days after he had arrived in Richmond, Governor Letcher proposed Jackson for the rank of colonel to command the Virginia Infantry. The state convention promptly approved it.

Jackson was sent to Lee, who was very glad indeed to see him and eager to put him to work. They had a meeting, and General Lee assigned him to his new post—Harpers Ferry.

That night, Jackson went to the fairgrounds. Diligent to the last, he wanted his status reports, which he turned in daily to the secretary of war. And he wanted to say good-bye to his cadets.

He was somewhat surprised to see about a dozen cadets waiting for him outside his tent. When he rode up they formed into two rows and came to attention.

Yancy stepped forward. “Colonel Jackson, sir, our drill captains have their reports ready. And also, these men would like to speak to you.”

Jackson nodded curtly. “Come in, Cadet Tremayne.”

Yancy went into the tent with Jackson, standing at attention as he settled himself behind the camp desk with the candle on it.

“At ease, Cadet. Now, what’s all this about?”

Yancy relaxed a bit, took a moment to frame his words, and then said, “Colonel Jackson, I would like to join the Virginia Volunteers. In particular, I hope to join you. We’ve heard that you’re going to form the 1
^st
Brigade, and I would like to enlist.”

“Good, good,” Jackson murmured under his breath. Then he looked up at Yancy, his eyes sparkling with an inner light. “And is that what all of the cadets out there wish to speak to me about? To join up?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well then. I’m going to swear you in, Cadet Tremayne. And from now on, you will be Sergeant Tremayne, assigned to my staff as my aide and courier.”

“Sir! Thank you, sir!”

“And as my staff assistant you will swear in any such ablebodied cadets as wish to join the 1
^st
Virginia Brigade, and you will document their inductions.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good, good. Now I’ll swear you in. Attention!”

Yancy snapped back to attention.

“Repeat after me, cadet:

“ ‘I, Yancy Tremayne, of the county of Rockbridge, state of Virginia, do solemnly swear that I will support, protect, and defend the Constitution and the government of the Confederate States of America against all enemies, whether domestic or foreign; that I will bear true faith, allegiance, and loyalty to the same, any ordinance, resolution, or laws of any state, convention or legislature to the contrary notwithstanding; and further, that I will faithfully perform all the duties which may be required of me by the laws of the Confederate States of America; and I take this oath freely and voluntarily without any mental reservations or evasions whatsoever.’”

The remainder of the document read:

When Yancy and Colonel Jackson finished dutifully filling out the solemn document, Jackson said, “I’m going to make out your certificate of induction. Pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

Again by hand Jackson filled out the form:

“You got all that, Sergeant?” Jackson demanded.

Yancy swelled until he thought he would burst. “Yes, sir!”

“Then for your first duty as my aide, you’re going to have to copy these two documents fair. Then you’re going to have to swear in all those recruits out there and make two copies of each document. Meanwhile, direct each drill captain to me to make a daily report on our Virginian Volunteers here in Richmond. After that, report back to me and I will brief you on our upcoming posting. And after I brief you, then you will brief each new member of the 1
^st
Brigade of our first mission.”

“Yes, sir!” Yancy said snappily.

Jackson regarded him shrewdly. “You know, Sergeant Tremayne, that the 1
^st
Brigade is going to be formed from the 2
^nd
, 4
^th
, 5
^th
, 27
^th
, and 33
^rd
Virginia Infantry Regiments.”

“Yes, sir?” Yancy answered curiously.

“But you’re the first volunteer for the 1
^st
Brigade.”

“I’m proud to be, sir. And thank you again for my promotion. I won’t let you down.”

Yancy immediately returned to the cadets and organized the drill team captains to report to Colonel Jackson. Then he set up a camp table outside Jackson’s tent and began the tedious task of swearing in the cadets who were joining the Virginia Volunteers, although all of them wished to request the 1
^st
Virginia Brigade.

The first cadet he signed in was Charles Satterfield. Chuckins signed the handwritten forms and watched as Yancy painstakingly made out duplicate forms. Penmanship was not Yancy’s strong point and his spelling was not stellar, so he kept having to refer back to the originals that Colonel Jackson had made out for him.

“There’s no printed forms for this?” Chuckins asked.

“There were plenty when the call went out for volunteers,” Yancy answered, “but they were almost all used up. Colonel Jackson has a few left, but he wants to keep them in case it takes any time to get new printed forms to us. He told me to make handwritten copies for us, the cadets that are signing up.”

“I could help you with those forms,” Chuckins said.

“Yeah, you’re the best in penmanship, I know,” Yancy replied thoughtfully.

“And you know, I’ve already memorized those forms,” Chuckins said diffidently.

“What?”

Chuckins shrugged. “Memorized them. I dunno. It’s just something I can do.”

Gladly Yancy said, “Go find a chair, report back here, and help me out. I’ll take their oaths and induct them, and you can write them in.”

It was almost one o’clock in the morning when Yancy reported back to Colonel Jackson. Of the fourteen cadets that had volunteered, Jackson called in Yancy, Peyton Stevens, Sandy Owens, and Charles Satterfield. They stood at uncomfortable attention in his tent.

“At ease,” Jackson said.

They assumed the at ease position, relaxing their postures and holding their hands behind their backs.

Jackson, seated at his desk, frowned darkly. There was no seating for the cadets, which seemed to dissatisfy him. He rose and started pacing, his hands clasped behind him. “Gentlemen, I am not in the habit of addressing men in a personal manner. However, I have found that you four cadets have been exemplary, both in scholastics and in the military disciplines. Therefore I have made decisions concerning your positions, especially regarding the 1
^st
Virginia Brigade, for which you have volunteered.”

The four cadets nodded solemnly but did not speak.

Jackson paced. “Sergeant Tremayne, I’ve already given you your posting. Since you have such a magnificent horse, we’re also inducting Midnight into the 1
^st
Brigade. And, Stevens, I’m giving you a promotion to sergeant, as aide-de-camp and courier. But this is provisional if your horse, Senator, also joins the 1
^st
Brigade.”

Yancy had rarely seen Jackson’s humor at home, but no other VMI cadet had probably ever witnessed it.

Peyton Stevens appeared nervous. “Sir, yes, sir. I’m—I’m—my horse is happy—that is, we volunteer.”

“Mr. Owens,” Jackson continued.

“Yes, sir!”

“I know that getting gunpowder and grease on your breeches causes you great distress. But you are one of the best gunners in the institute. The Rockbridge Artillery has been assigned to the 1
^st
Brigade, and it is my wish that you would serve with them.”

It was true that Sandy Owens was something of a dandy, and he hated for his dynamic VMI uniform to get soiled or wrinkled. But that was for the carefree days when he was a cadet in the finest military school in the South, and these were days of war. He was best at artillery, and he loved artillery best. “Thank you,

Colonel Jackson,” he said quietly. “I would be honored to serve with Reverend Pendleton.” Colonel W. N. Pendleton was the commanding officer of the Rockbridge Artillery, and he was also an Episcopal rector. Sandy attended his church.

“So that brings us to you, Mr. Satterfield,” Jackson said. He sat down at the desk and shuffled through the pile of papers there.

Chuckins was obviously so nervous he could barely talk. “Y-yes, sir. Me. Th-that brings us to m–me.”

Jackson’s eyes sparked blue ice, and his set mouth had a slight tinge of amusement. He looked down and went through two more pages then looked up. “These documents are written in a fine hand.”

“Th–thank you, sir.”

“And there are no errors in the copy, none at all. That’s very unusual.”

Chuckins swallowed hard. “I—I had them memorized, sir. The forms.”

“I see. It seems to me, Mr. Satterfield, that you would make a fine clerk. As it happens, I need a clerk on my staff.”

“Sir! May I volunteer for your staff?” Chuckins asked anxiously.

“You may, and I accept. I’m promoting you to sergeant, and I’m appointing you as my chief clerk.”

“Colonel, thank you, sir, thank you!”

“You may not thank me when you see the paperwork it takes to sustain a brigade,” Jackson said drily. “All right, men, now I want to brief you on our posting. Please keep in mind that the regiments that will form the 1
^st
Brigade have not been briefed yet. I prefer to keep my counsel to myself, for the most part, until I know I have a staff I can trust. I’ve known you men for a few years, and I feel I can trust you as I already know that you’re capable of discretion.”