Grant Comes East - Civil War 02 (48 page)

He smiled as he contemplated all that was possible. A new coalition, Catholic Austria and Spain, with France in the lead, reversing all the misfortunes that had befallen the world since 1815. For the slaveholding South he cared not a whit; they were just a means to an end, a humbling of England, a realignment of the balance of power. His fleets, operating out of Vera Cruz, Brownsville, Havana, would re
-
establish the glory that should be France's. The other European powers, except for England, would see the rightness of this as well. Russia, which had sent its pathetic fleet to New York City the winter before, would stand back, not wishing to risk yet another humiliation like the one he had dealt it in the Crimea. Those tradesmen across the Channel, so intent on their profits, would not stir.
They
will
not
come into
the
fight
for
the
South,
but
they
most
certainly
will
not align
themselves
with
that
damnable
uncouth
lawyer
from the
frontier.
They
will
sit
it
out
and
by
the
time
they
realize their
folly,
it
will
be
too
late.
Mexico
will
be
taken,
perhaps even
gains
in
the
Caribbean.

Yes, he would commit to this. It was time.

In
Front
of
Fort
Stevens

August
16,
1863 8:00
a
.M.

General Lee looked around at the gathering of
officers. They were camped in nearly the same spot that had been his headquarters the month before. Yet the feeling was different now. The men were rested, the weather fair, though promising an intense heat by later in the day.

Longstreet had just ridden in; Beauregard and Hood were already present. Stuart was fifty miles to the north, deployed toward the Susquehanna. He had privately given Jeb his orders the night before, the cavalier grinning as he rode off. Lee smiled as Longstreet rode up and dismounted. "Good marching weather," Pete said, coming under the awning and taking a cup of coffee. "Roads are good, weather's fine, the men know something is up." "It's hard to keep it hidden at times," Lee replied. He looked around at the gathering and began. "We're not going to attack this city again," he announced. Beauregard stirred in his seat but held back from comment.

"I know this seems like an elaborate effort for nothing, putting all but one division on the road again. At the very least, let us say it's given our army a chance to stretch its legs again, to not turn into garrison troops. But an attack on Washington is out of the question now."

"Then I hope you will inform us as to your intent, sir," Beauregard said calmly, looking straight at Lee.

"Yes. I think I should. We will demonstrate along this line today, tomorrow, and the day after, if need be. I want increased activity. I want all three of you to move cautiously when it comes to your personal safety. The Yankees have sharpshooters in their works, yet I want you to be seen, as if surveying the line for an attack. I want night probes; don't hesitate to burn off some powder; we have plenty of captured Union powder in reserve now. I want them to think that we are preparing a full-scale assault across the entire front."

"Sir, if we should see some promise of success, I'd counsel going in," Beauregard offered. "Perhaps another night attack; my boys are up to it."

Lee emphatically shook his head.

"General Beauregard. We have no more reserves. I will not venture the horrific casualties it will take to storm this city."

"Even if we did take it now," Longstreet interjected, looking at Beauregard, "we couldn't hold it for long."

Lee nodded his thanks. The relationship with Beauregard had been stiff ever since the man's arrival. Though Davis had made it clear that Lee was in command of this campaign, Beauregard was already chafing at being subordinate to a man he had outranked little more than a year ago. Twice he had requested independent command since his arrival, and each time Lee had reined him in, the first time with soft diplomacy, the second time more sharply, with a clear statement of who was in command. It would be like Beauregard to let a probe or reconnaissance turn into a full-pitched bat-tie, and Lee looked straight at him.

"My orders are clear. Absolutely no general engagement is to be initiated. Demonstrations only. I don't want some hot
-
headed brigadier or division commander getting carried away, and, gentlemen, I will hold the three of you directly responsible if such a situation does develop. Do I make myself clear on this?"

Again the harsh tone that since Union Mills and the firing of Dick Ewell had become more and more his way of managing this army. He looked straight into the eyes of each man and waited until they nodded in agreement. Beauregard nodded and lowered his head.

"Then why?" Beauregard finally asked.

"I'll discuss the details in due time, gentlemen," Lee replied.

Longstreet, ever the poker player, revealed nothing. Hood simply smiled, used to how Lee preferred to run things.

"For the moment, gentlemen, demonstration only. You are not to discuss anything with your subordinates other than the orders just given.

‘I
want all of you to be ready to move at a moment's notice, to move fast and light."

"I think I know what's coming," Hood finally ventured.

"In due time, General. We all learned our lesson last fall at Sharpsburg when it came to the security of our operations. This next effort might entail a
serious risk. Do not think my
reticence is out of mistrust; rather it is simply out of concern for our safety and ultimate success."

"I wish we had thirty thousand more men," Hood said quietly.

"We don't," Lee snapped. "All we will ever have is what now marches in our ranks. There is no sense in wishing for more. We have a preponderance of artillery now, and I plan to see that used." He looked around at the gathering.

"Any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Fine then, gentlemen. Let us see to our duty. The moment I feel that all is ready I will pass to each of you detailed orders, which are to be followed to the letter. Remember though, when it starts, it must be done with speed."

He stood up, indicating that the meeting was over.

The generals walked off, all except Longstreet, who lingered by the table.

"I think you ruffled up Beauregard," Pete said.

"Perhaps, but all it takes is for one loose-mouthed staff officer to spread the word; it leaks into Washington, and then an order goes out forbidding Sickles to move. I'm hoping now that the exact opposite will happen, that Sickles might very well get the order to move, and when he does, we are ready. Walter and Jed have done a magnificent job of drawing up routes of march, deployment of supplies, even possible positions for the bulk of our artillery so they can move quickly to where they are needed. This one is well planned, General Longstreet; all I have to do is give the word to go. I'm confident on this one."

Longstreet nodded back to the map
and pointed at Harris
burg.

"Suppose he doesn't do what you expect. Then what?"

"Sickles?"

"No, Grant, sir. That is now our main concern."

"He will," Lee replied. "Grant will hesitate, caught off balance by Sickles, and then the administration will force him to detach troops to cover here. No, they will tie his hands as they have all the others."

"I hope so," was all Longstreet could say.

Harrisburg,
Pennsylvania

August
17,1863 9:00
p.m.

Hau
pt, good to see you." Grant came out of his chair, extending a hand as the frail figure of Gen. Herman Haupt stood by the open flap of his tent

The appearance of the man shocked him. He was wasting away by the day; by the light of the coal oil lamp he had a pale, yellowish cast to his skin, his cheeks were hollow, eyes sunken.

As Haupt took a seat across from Grant, the general made a decision, uncharacteristically, without reflection or contemplation of the impact it might have on his plans.

"Haupt, I think I should relieve you of your office. Send you home for a month or two."

Haupt looked up at him angrily and shook his head.

"I respectfully decline, sir."

"Damn it, man, you are dying."

Haupt smiled.

"Not yet, and besides you need me."

"Yes, I need you, but a lot of good you will do me or the army if you are dead."

"Not by a long shot yet, sir. Give me a few more weeks, let me sort out a few things, and then I'll take the leave you suggest."

"Suppose I order you to go home now, tonight?" Haupt chuckled.

"I'd refuse. And then what? Court-martial me for insubordination?"

Grant shook his head and laughed softly. "No, I'd never do that, Herman." "It's getting better, sir."

He could see the lie in that but decided that for the moment he could not push the issue further.

"What do you have for me?" Grant asked.

"I barely got through. It's chaos not fifty miles from here. Hampton's taken Lancaster and is even now riding toward Reading. I'll confess, he's made a mess of things for us. He caught a number of supply trains in the rail yard at Lancaster. Wrecked nine locomotives."

Grant could see that such wanton destruction of his precious machines troubled Haupt. At heart he was a builder, not a destroyer.

"We'll take care of him. But what else?"

"I've got ten more batteries of guns coming down from Albany. I'm routing them around Lancaster and Reading and they should be here late tomorrow. Remounts are still coming in via the Pennsylvania railroad."

Haupt paused for a moment, reached into his haversack, and pulled out a notebook, thumbing through the pages.

"Let's see now. Two thousand, three hundred and fifty horses from Ohio, eight hundred and seventy mules from Ohio and Indiana as well. Seventy-five more wagons out of Lancaster before Hampton hit it. Two regiments from Illinois and one from Indiana should arrive here in three days. The colored regiments from Philadelphia will transfer here starting tomorrow. I'm routing them up to New York and then across to the Pennsylvania and Susquehanna through Pottsville, yet again to avoid Reading. Replacement bridging is in place at Wheeling for the Baltimore and Ohio, and a million rations should be stockpiled there by the end of the month. Vouchers to all the rail lines involved have been drawn as well."

He thumbed through his notes.

"Shoes. I've got fifty thousand more coming down from

Massachusetts and Vermont, but that will take another week. We're still short of tentage; one of the trains Hampton took was loaded with them, and of replacement rails and some bridging material."

"The pontoon bridges?"

Haupt shook his head.

"Only enough for five thousand feet so far. I'm pushing it hard, sir, but the routing of trains is still something of a tangle from the Midwest. We've yet to successfully shift all the rolling stock back out there, and it's causing problems."

Grant extended his hand and patted Haupt on the arm.

"You're doing fine, just fine, Haupt."

Herman said nothing, eyes glazed as he stared off.

"I'd like you to get some rest Haupt If I lose you, I lose the one man I'm relying on most right now."

Haupt's shoulders seemed to sag, as if the words of comfort had placed upon him an additional burden.

"Sorry, sir. Sorry I took sick at this time."

"No apologies should be offered, Haupt."

"I'll be on the pontoon bridges first thing in the morning."

Grant sighed. There was no way he could simply detach this man, to send him home, to let him take a month to recover from his bout with dysentery. Even if he wanted to, he could not, not tonight

"Go and get some rest, General. And that is an order."

"Yes, sir."

Haupt legs visibly trembling, stood up and saluted. Grant guided him out of the tent and watched him walk off. As Haupt disappeared, he caught Parker's eye.

"Call for my surgeon again," Grant said. "I want that man taken care of."

Parker saluted and followed Haupt.

Grant stood by the open flap of his tent The night was cool, pleasant, a gentle breeze wafting in as he lit another cigar, coughed as he drew the first deep breath, inhaling the soothing smoke.