The Fateful Lightning (45 page)

“He promised me he would go back to school. I should have taken him there myself, laid my sword on that headmaster’s desk.”

She smiled now. “And when did you have time? He has no use for school right now. Look at all that surrounds him, all those soldiers, all those muskets. He will not be satisfied until he fights. Like his father. Is that not the lesson you’ve taught him?”

“Not on purpose. That’s why I wanted him gone, doing something worthwhile with his brain. Let this war end, and he can do whatever he pleases. I do not want him shooting at anyone. Or, worse, having someone shoot at him.”

His felt his heart beating in hard thumps, stared at the floor beneath him. She knew his moods, kept silent for a long moment, then said, “My husband, how much longer will it be?”

He looked at her, felt a sad wound from the beauty in her young face. “You assume I know the answer to that.”

“Yes, I do. More than anyone around this country. I read the newspapers. I know how badly things are going for us. There was a time when we could read of victories, off in some distant place, places I never knew existed. But there is none of that now. Now the papers speak only of the enemy, of Grant and Sherman, and all the terror we are likely to suffer. I read of what Sherman did to Georgia, how he murdered people in their homes, burned the land, destroyed everything in every place his army marched. You said yourself, to the governor, he is coming
here
now. If you believe he cannot be stopped, then what are the rest of us to believe? Your daughters are working still with the doctors here, learning how to dress wounds, how to care for the injured. They are preparing for what will happen next.”

“I don’t know what will happen next. No one does.”

“Do not treat me like you treat Willie. I am not so young I do not know what you endure. I know of your friend, my friend, General Cleburne. I know of Bishop Polk. It is what wakes me every night, begging God not to take you, not to see you with some awful wound. And now you believe that Sherman is coming here, will bring his war to Charleston. Am I not allowed to be afraid?”

He stood, moved toward her, put a hand softly on her head, felt the fineness of her hair. “We are all afraid, Mary. We cannot be victorious. No great speeches, no lies in the newspapers, no fantastic dreams that we hear from our president, nothing changes the truth. But I do not believe Sherman is the devil. I do not believe he rapes the innocent just for recreation. My brother is still in Savannah, and I would not have allowed that if I thought Sherman would abuse him. I cannot accept that a career soldier, a man from West Point, a
professional
…I cannot accept that Sherman is simply a beast. He is fighting this war to end it. He is better at that than I am, than Beauregard is, Bragg, Pemberton. And he has something we will never have, something we lost long ago. He has the army strong enough to do his bidding, to execute his strategies, to fulfill his tactics.”

He paused, looked at her, saw teary eyes staring up at him, her words coming in a soft cry, “Then why can
you
not end this? Before it gets worse. Before it comes
here
.”

He let his hand drop from her hair, moved away.

Because I am a soldier, he thought. But he could not say that aloud, felt suddenly foolish, telling her that he was helpless to his duty, to obedience, no matter the wishful fantasies of his president, of Governor Magrath, of anyone above him who still believed in victory.

“The men we brought out of Savannah…they’re being positioned in key locations, including the defenses outside of Charleston. They are protecting the railroads, the intersections. I am told by General Wheeler that the columns marched north from Savannah with considerable despair, that the men lack shoes and proper clothing. But
still they march
.” He looked at her again. “You must understand that. They continue to serve this army, this cause, they continue to hold their muskets, to man their artillery. They are still an army, and they have not yet given up this fight. How am I to tell them they are wrong? My son still wishes to join them. His father,
Lieutenant General
Hardee, prefers that he goes anyplace else. But I cannot fault him for wishing to stand up with the men he admires. Perhaps Magrath is correct. Perhaps the men of South Carolina will stand up in a way the men of Georgia did not.” He stopped. “Now it is I who am dreaming.”

“So much has been lost, my husband. You saw what Christmas was like here. It rained all day, the people were in terribly somber spirits.
Can you imagine what it was like in Savannah, or Atlanta? So many places the war has already destroyed?”

“Yes. And I imagine it was a joyous, festive time in Washington and New York and Philadelphia. And in Sherman’s camp, they sang songs and worshipped and prayed and celebrated, no differently than we would have, if that were my army.”

“And you cannot make Richmond understand, to make this stop? You cannot convince that horrible governor?”

“They see what they choose to see. And right now, they choose that I should form an army the best way possible, and protect all that we have fought for.”

She stood, wiped at her eyes. “You mean, all that
remains
to fight for. And what is that?”

He put his hands on her arms, pulled her close to him, felt the warmth, the softness. “My darling wife, what remains is the war. And it will be up to others to stop what we are doing, to say that we have done all we can do, to order the men to return home, and their generals as well. All I can do now is the very thing I have trained for my entire life. As long as there are men to lead, I must lead them.”

SAVANNAH—JANUARY 5, 1865

“
S
ir, there are women in the parlor. Two, in fact.”

He looked up, saw the pleasant smile on Green’s face, the Englishman still the congenial host.

“I assume they’re here for me? I’ve had enough entertaining for one day. After two dozen Negroes, I’ve run out of politeness. One can only be gracious for so long.”

Green laughed. “I must say, they do show a level of affection and respect for you that I have not seen. Not at all. The outpouring of emotion alone is quite remarkable. From what I have observed, there is nowhere in this city you can go without attracting considerable attention. It must be enormously flattering.”

“It is. Can’t say I expected that. Never thought of this campaign as one of liberation. Now, those women?”

“Oh, yes, sir. Perhaps you could spare them a moment? They’re quite well known to me.”

Sherman let out a breath. “There are a few who wish to become quite ‘well known’ to me as well. It is best that I avoid such temptations. My wife is rather particular on that point. I’ve learned to keep an arm’s length from that kind of trouble.”

Sherman heard a woman’s voice now, older, the undisguised hostility he had heard so often before. “Mr. Green! I do not wish to make acquaintance with the general! Not for one second would I set foot in the same room with him.”

Green slipped out of the room, his low voice still reaching Sherman. “My mistake, madam. I thought—”

“I came here to see you, Mr. Green. We are quite put out with all this soldiering business going on throughout the city. It is shameful, and a disgrace.”

Sherman sat back, was entertained in spite of himself. He leaned out, tried to see the woman’s face, Green blocking his view. Green kept his words low again, said, “What may I do about this, madam?”

“I had hoped, sir, you would be of such influence as to invite your English friends to right this horrible injustice. Surely there are warships or some such off the coast here. With so many Yankees hereabouts, there should be targets aplenty.”

“Madam, I cannot, er, rather, I do not have such friends. We are living here in peace, as a courtesy offered by the Federal army. Are you certain you do not wish to meet General Sherman?”

“I would sooner stab myself with a knitting needle, sir.”

The voices trailed away, Green leading the woman to some other part of the house, still the patient host. Sherman sat back in the chair, looked over toward Hitchcock, who sat waiting with a pad of paper. Hitchcock kept his eyes toward the doorway, and Sherman smiled, said, “Not all of these people are friendly, I suppose. Some of these ladies have charms that aren’t especially appealing. Quite a difference in attitude between that particular damsel and Mr. Green.”

“Oh, yes, sir. Quite.”

The voices returned, Sherman catching the words from Green.

“I am happy to offer you a tour of the residence, madam. That room up that way is the abode of the general. I have made him most comfortable, in my own bed.”

The woman’s voice came again, more gruff than before. “If you were a true patriot, sir, you would stick a thousand pins in that bed, and torture the general as he has tortured us!”

Hitchcock stood now, a show of concern, and Sherman waved him back, said in a whisper, “Let her say her piece. There is a great deal of
bark to some of these people, but I am not so concerned about their bite.”

Hitchcock returned to his chair, pen in hand, Sherman trying again to focus on the letter he was preparing for Henry Halleck. The voice faded away again, and Sherman heard the loud thump of the front door, Green appearing with a look of profound apology.

“Oh, my word, sir. I’m terribly sorry. Awful woman. Mrs. Grizelda Moodie. Her daughter is somewhat more refined. They are rather upset that Mr. Moodie’s business has been closed down by your security people.”

“What kind of business?”

“He runs something of a gambling establishment. It is said that he features charms of a feminine sort. To those willing to pay, of course.”

“Of course. Gambling and prostitution. One of your more aristocratic families, no doubt.”

“Ah, well, sir, I have always aimed to do business with anyone, regardless of their place in our society. I am a businessman first. Be assured, however, I did not offer her any promises.”

“I can offer her one myself, if she lowered herself to speak to me. There is corruption enough surrounding any army in the field. When possible, I have tried to eliminate it. I would promise her to enforce that order to the extreme, in her husband’s case. ‘Torture’ works both ways.”

Green laughed, just a bit too much enthusiasm. “Ah, why, yes. Very good, sir.”

“Please leave us, Mr. Green. I have correspondence to put to paper.”

Sherman knew that Green understood protocol, that he was not privy to any kind of army business. “As you wish, sir. The cook is preparing a fine repast, for six this evening?”

“See you at six, then.”

Green was gone now, and Sherman tried to sort through his thoughts, the message he was trying to convey to Washington. Any note sent to Halleck would certainly be spread through every official channel in the capital, and possibly the newspapers as well, a lesson Sherman had learned long ago. The greatest lesson was in choosing his words so as not to cause yet another controversy for anyone who supported his efforts in the field, especially Grant.

“Where were we, Major?”

The interruption came again, Green slipping in quietly. “Very sorry again, sir.”

“What the hell do you want now?”

“Somewhat of a different circumstance, sir. A Mr. Hardee is here. Claims you know of his brother.”

Sherman looked at Green, curious, saw nothing to show that Green was playing with him. “Mr. Hardee, as in General Hardee?”

“Quite so, sir. Mr. Noble Andrew Hardee.”

Sherman looked at Hitchcock, said, “Put the pen away, Major. Go find Dayton, bring him in. McCoy, if he’s still out there. This might be interesting.”

“
Y
ou are most generous, sir. I am here only to express my gratitude at the respect you have shown the people of Savannah.”

Sherman did not expect this kind of graciousness, the man as sincere with his thankfulness as Green had been with his hospitality. “You are older than your brother?”

“Oh, yes, sir. William…General Hardee is a bit more than ten years my junior. We are most proud of his achievements. Though, of course, my family would prefer his situation to be somewhat more positive.”

“That’s not likely to change, sir. Your brother is leading a force that is in rebellion against this nation. My duty is to stop that any way possible.”

“Oh, yes, General, I quite understand. But William has offered you something of a gesture, wouldn’t you say? My presence here, when there were ample opportunities for me to take leave, should convince you that William bears you no ill will. His is a show of faith that I admit took some convincing for me to accept. But, here I am. At your mercy.”

“That you are.”

Sherman had already met the wife of the rebel general Gustavus Smith, the woman proving to be another of those prominent Confederates who chose to remain in Savannah. He knew that Hardee was correct, that if the rebel commanders had expected a savage rampage
through the city, none of these people would have remained. So, he thought, I am not quite the barbarian the newspapers insist I am.

“General Sherman, I am a cotton merchant by trade, as is your host, Mr. Green. There are a great many of us who are well aware that throughout this war, maintaining trade with British merchants has proven unwise, and unprofitable. Profit is a tempting prize, sir. I admit that. The English have been a disappointment, to say the least. If they had valued our cause with as much passion as they enjoy our cotton, this war might well have been different in its outcome.”

“There is no outcome yet, Mr. Hardee. As for the English, I suspect they never intended to enter this war unless they were certain you were going to win it.”

Hardee seemed to appraise Sherman, who kept his stare hard into the older man’s eyes. Hardee said, “I fear your opinion of the English is correct. As for the outcome of the war, allow me to disagree with you, General. There is only one outcome, no matter how much patriotism rattles through the hallways of Richmond. I know how the Southern army has fared of late. And, to be frank, sir, it is only by the grace of God, or rather, by your grace, that this city survives the torch. We are all certainly aware of the price you could have exacted from us. I have friends in Atlanta, sir. I know how a fire can devastate. I commend the discipline of your men.”

“Actually, Mr. Hardee, my men have become fond of Savannah. Creating a base here offers something of a respite from the campaign. The men have been on the march for many weeks. Savannah is a pleasant diversion for them.” Sherman could see something unsaid on Hardee’s face. “I am rather busy. Is there anything else you require, Mr. Hardee?”

“I believe it is a fair question to ask, sir, if you intend to remain here? Clearly, no cotton merchant can ply his trade with his best customers as long as those customers are kept away by your blockade. It would suit all of us well if we could resume that trade with our
other
best customers.”

Sherman appreciated the man’s candor, smiled, twirled his cigar in his fingers. “
Northern
customers, you mean.”

Hardee shrugged. “A paying customer is a paying customer. Many of us care not what flag flies over his ship.”

Sherman was curious now, wondered what General Hardee would make of his civilian brother’s duplicity. “So, you are not a Confederate, then?”

“I admit that we had leanings in that direction, when it seemed the South would prevail in this unfortunate affair. It is quite clear to me, and to many of us, sir, that the outcome of this war is an inevitability we must plan for. As I said, sir, I am a businessman. I must consider the future.”

Sherman had suffered outpourings of righteous indignation from various English merchants, some of those based in Savannah, or others who had somehow evaded Admiral Dahlgren’s net, the very men who put currency into Hardee’s pockets. He was still surprised that Hardee didn’t seem to share their hostility toward Federal occupation of the city.

“Your English friends are not as polite as you, sir. I’ve had to endure all manner of protest over my confiscation of their cotton. Some of that must surely belong to you.”

“The future, General. We must assume that this year’s crop is simply lost, all of those bales now guarded over by your soldiers. We must regard that as we would an unfortunate turn in the weather. The results would be the same. I am already in contact with several large plantation owners, encouraging them to put their energies toward next season. Surely, the market will be a healthier place.”

Sherman studied Hardee, saw only sincerity, a surprise. “It is a shame, sir, that your brother is not so eager to put this war behind us.”

“I assure you, General, William shares my sense of what is real and what is fantasy. He is in something of a trap. I’m sure you understand that. You are both soldiers. Certainly, you do not always agree with the instructions handed down by your superiors.”

“I obey my superiors, as your brother does. Perhaps one day we may discuss just what kind of people our superiors are.”

“Perhaps very soon, then? I would expect your army to begin its march toward Charleston. Perhaps you are waiting for a bit better weather?”

Sherman felt a bolt of caution, could hear a change in Hardee’s voice. But the man’s expression seemed pleasant enough still, and
Sherman realized clearly he was in the presence of a man used to making a sale. Sherman smiled, said, “Mr. Hardee, my army shall resume our campaign in due time. There are military considerations which I cannot discuss with you, or any civilian here. Charleston shall be cleared of any stain of this rebellion when the time is right.”

“Well, sir, I for one shall welcome the time when this unpleasantness has passed. Truly, we are grateful that Savannah is no worse by your occupation. Your soldiers have added considerably to our well-being, not just by their gallantry, but by their willingness to spend money. Regrettably, prices for even the most basic goods have escalated. I saw a merchant offering a bushel of apples for fifty dollars.”