Ch. 8: Lee
6:20 P.M.
September 26, 1863
Lee's HQ
Missionary Ridge
Robert E. Lee sat beneath the dim light of a candle and read the dispatch for the third time. He did not re-read it because he failed to understand it. He read it because he wanted to be certain.
The headquarters had grown quieter in the last hour. Outside, the Confederate camps stretched along the slopes of Missionary Ridge, extra fires burning to make their position seem larger than it was. The fires looked like no more than scattered clusters beneath the darkening sky.
Somewhere farther down the ridge, a horse whinnied. From another direction came the muted clank of equipment and the occasional voice of a sentry challenging someone moving through the darkness.
Inside the headquarters tent, however, the only sounds were paper, pen, and the low murmur of Lee's staff speaking among themselves.
Lee lowered the dispatch. "Pender reports no movement along the northern bank of the Tennessee into Chattanooga."
Colonel Walter H. Taylor, standing across the table, nodded. "Yes, General. Pender has posted Perrin's South Carolinian Brigade and Folsom's Georgian Brigade along the southern bank. "
Lee looked back at the paper, before responding to Taylor. "If Thomas isn't using Haley's Trace to supply his army, he must be forced to use the longer route over Walden Ridge." Lee waited for any staff input before continuing.
Colonel Marshall responded, "With infantry now in Lookout Valley sir, we have surer control over the area, on top of that General Pender reports that his other three brigades have occupied Lookout Mountain and are in the process of fortifying it."
"Can General Pender support Perrin and Folsom from Lookout Mountain?" asked Brigadier General William N. Pendleton.
"With enough intelligence of enemy activity I believe so." Lee answered assuredly. "It's not an easy trek up or down that mountain, but as long Forrest keeps us up to date on any movement into the Valley Pender should have enough to to move the rest of his division into the Valley to stop any attempt to open a supply line along the southern bank.
Pendleton leaned closer. "Then the valley is becoming considerably more secure."
"More secure," Lee replied, "but not secure."
The distinction was important. Lee placed the paper on the table. Perrin's brigade and Folsom's brigade, both from Pender's division, had now entered Lookout Valley. That gave the Confederates an infantry presence where, only days before, Lee had possessed little more than cavalry reconnaissance and scattered outposts.
It also meant that the Federal army would have greater difficulty moving westward without being observed.
Taylor studied the map. "With Armstrong's division now relieved of watching Haley's Trace, they are now freed up to operate with General Jones on our right flank as you wished sir."
"Yes, that is very encouraging." Lee exclaimed.
"Minus Sir, Dibrell's brigade which Forrest has detached for his own purposes." Taylor dutifully dispersed the information, wanting to make sure General Lee had all the information.
"Yes, Yes," Lee waved him off, "I have Forrest's latest report right here.
The message from General Nathan Bedford Forrest that needed to be considered. Forrest's handwriting, though hurried, was unmistakable. His reports had a peculiar directness about them. There was little ornament, little concern for the conventions that so occupied some officers. Forrest reported what he had seen, what he had done, and what he intended to do next.
Lee appreciated that. The general had also developed an appreciation for the man himself. Not without reservations.
Forrest possessed qualities that could not be taught at West Point or acquired through years of staff work. He possessed an instinct for movement, terrain, opportunity, and danger that Lee had seen in very few cavalry commanders.
He also possessed a temper, a very considerable one for that matter. Lee's mouth tightened slightly as he remembered their conversation a few nights back.
Forrest had not liked being corrected, but in Lee's mind few men did. Thankfully Forrest had listened. That was what mattered.
Lee held up the yesterday's dispatch. "General Forrest has taken his escort and Dibrell's brigade to reconnoiter Bridgeport one more time before doubling back to meet up with General Beauregard. This was dated as of yesterday evening." Lee inwardly beamed with pride for the Cavalry officer. He was taking to heart his duty of being the eyes of the army.
Even more impressive was the report they had received this afternoon from General Forrest.
"Colonel Taylor, can you please summarize the dispatch from Forrest we received this afternoon?" Lee looked towards his young Adjutant.
"As you say sir." Taylor obligingly went through his most recent dispatches including ones from Generals Beauregard and Jones, before find the one from Forrest. Reading it quickly to jog his memory, "Sir, General Forrest says that the Union has reinforced Bridgeport with two more regiments. He took the whole morning scouting the position again and counting troops."
"Very good, Colonel Taylor, and how many regiments does he count in the town as of the last dispatch?" Lee knew the answer, but wanted his staff to reconsider the information.
"He says he counts five regiments in total, as well as a battery of artillery." Taylor recited.
"And what of the report from General Hill?" Lee had seen a report earlier about something at Stevenson.
Colonel Charles Venable was able to answer that information. "General Hill states that he received a report from General Wheeler of seeing some infantry in Stevenson, though Hill says Wheeler doesn't give specifics."
Lee stood deep in thought before answering. Wheeler's careless attention to detail made divining the enemy's strength rather difficult. "Unfortunately General Wheeler seems slim on specifics, but we must assume there are multiple regiments in Stevenson, at least until proven otherwise."
Lee walked back to the map spread out over the makeshift table of his command tent. He reached down tracing the information. His finger followed the roads. The plan was beginning to take shape.
Not quickly enough for his liking, but it was taking shape. Beauregard had departed with Hardee's Corps. D. H. Hill was consolidating around Trenton.
The intention was simple in conception and exceedingly difficult in execution: concentrate west of Lookout Mountain, move upon Bridgeport, and destroy or seize the Federal supply base that sustained Chattanooga.
If they succeeded, Thomas would find himself in a position that no fortification could solve.
Lee looked toward Taylor. "General Forrest understands his orders."
Taylor smiled faintly. "I doubt General Forrest requires much explanation of anything."
Lee's expression remained serious. "He requires direction."
Marshall, Venable, and the others waited, listening to Lee extrapolate the situation.
"And he requires restraint." Lee answered objectively.
That earned a quiet chuckle from several officers. Lee allowed himself the faintest smile. Forrest was useful precisely because he was Forrest. Attempting to turn him into another cavalry officer would destroy the qualities that made him valuable. But Lee also knew that Forrest was capable of becoming so engrossed in an opportunity that he could lose sight of the larger design.
That could not happen now. Beauregard's operation depended upon speed. It depended upon secrecy.
And above all, it depended upon the Confederates maintaining pressure in front of Chattanooga while their principal blow fell behind it.
Lee folded his hands behind his back. "I hope General Forrest does not imagine that I am taking his command from him."
Taylor looked at him. "I doubt he is excited about most of his corps operating away from him." Taylor paused to consider his next words carefully. "General Forrest also knows that you're trusting him with an important mission, I'm sure he can manage for a few days."
Lee turned toward the map. "Armstrong is needed here." His finger touched the Confederate right. "We require his division to strengthen our cavalry position north of Missionary Ridge. We have gained ground, but we have nothing certain. Thomas remains in Chattanooga, and I will not allow him to discover that we have weakened ourselves merely because Beauregard has moved west."
Brigadier General William Pendleton nodded. "And Forrest?"
Lee calmly considered Penderleton's question. "He's better employed with Beauregard. I trust no one else besides maybe General Jones to carry out the operation"
Taylor understood.
Lee continued. "I cannot be certain that General Wheeler will give Beauregard what he needs."
The tent became quiet, and no one immediately answered. The criticism was significant. Joseph Wheeler was popular among his men. He had earned a reputation for energy and personal courage, and his cavalry had served the Confederacy well on countless occasions.
But Lee had watched the reports. He had read the dispatches. Wheeler had been given a simple responsibility during the pursuit of the Federal southern wing. Find the enemy. Keep them from escaping.
Instead, portions of the Federal infantry had slipped away while Wheeler's cavalry had become entangled in pursuing their mounted counterparts. That mistake might now cost the Confederates dearly.
Lee did not like changing commanders in the middle of a campaign. It damaged confidence in the men, and it created uncertainty.
And among cavalrymen, loyalty to a commander could be nearly as important as loyalty to the army itself, and yet Lee had another problem, he needed a cavalry man to cover the move on Bridgeport.
The success of Beauregard's entire movement could depend upon accurate reconnaissance and aggressive cavalry action.
Forrest could provide both with Dibrell's large cavalry brigade, while Jones operated on the armies northern flank and Wheeler on it's southern one. It wasn't an ideal situation, but was the best they could do for now.
"He is not being removed from his command," Lee said. "He is being employed where his particular abilities are required."
Pendleton nodded. "But will General Forrest see the distinction?"
"I hope so." Lee said out loud, though his eyes remained on the map.
He had no intention of allowing personal considerations to interfere with the campaign. Yet he also understood men and their peculiarities. Forrest was a very proud man, who didn't deal with fools.
The dressing-down Lee had given him had been deliberate. Forrest had needed to understand that reckless independence could ruin an army as quickly as it could win a battle, yet Lee had no desire to humiliate the man.
He needed him, and the army needed him.
Now Beauregard needed him.
Lee turned toward one of his adjutants. "Colonel Venable, when General Forrest arrives at Trenton, I want him to understand that he is to do everything he can to make the mission a success, but that his corps will need him soon."
Venable raised an eyebrow. "I shall phrase it delicately."
"That would be wise." Lee answered.
A few officers smiled. Lee returned to his papers.
Another report lay beside the first, and another. The war had become an endless procession of paper.
Lee lifted another report. "General Cleburne reports—" but before Lee could finish the sentence. A knock interrupted him.
Everyone in the tent turned. An aide stood outside. "A Telegram for General Lee!"
Colonel Taylor showed the man in. The young officer stepped inside and saluted.
"From where?" General Lee asked.
"Richmond sir." Lee nodded.
The words immediately changed the atmosphere. Lee extended his hand. The aide crossed the tent and placed the folded telegram before him. Lee looked at the letter it was from the War Department in Richmond.
For a moment he did not open it. Perhaps it was news from Virginia that could alter everything he was attempting to accomplish in Tennessee. He looked at the Telegram and read it.
Taylor watched him carefully.
Lee unfolded the paper. His eyes moved across the first line. Then the second. His expression did not change. But the officers nearest him saw his attention sharpen.
"What is it, General?" Pendleton asked.
Lee continued reading. The telegram was from the War Department. And whatever Richmond had to say, Lee understood immediately.
Lee read the telegram again.
The candle beside his elbow guttered in the slight evening breeze that found its way beneath the canvas. The flame bent sideways, recovered, and bent again. Beyond the headquarters tent, the sounds of the army continued without pause—horses stamping in the darkness, wagons creaking along the ridge road, the distant calls of sentries, and somewhere down the line the muffled laughter of soldiers gathered around a fire.
The paper in Lee's hand seemed almost weightless. Its contents were not. Lee lowered it slowly.
"From President Davis," he said.
The officers around the table straightened.
Lee did not immediately read the message aloud. His eyes read each and every word while his mind was already moving to conclusions.
Richmond
September 26, 1863
To Robert E. Lee
Chattanooga, TN
Recent information received through our agents in Washington indicates that two corps of Meade's army are now in motion. Large numbers of troops have been observed at the cars, with considerable quantities of artillery already loaded for transportation. There is no doubt as to the destination of these troops, part for General Rosecrans, and perhaps for General Burnside in East Tennessee.
A copy of the New York Post has also been obtained, containing information corroborating the reported movement. The enemy appears to be acting with considerable dispatch.
I deem it proper that you should be apprised of these movements without delay, as they may materially affect operations in Tennessee.
The present opportunity should, if practicable, be turned to account before the enemy's reinforcements can reach the field.
Jefferson Davis
"President Davis writes that recent information has been received from one of our agents in Washington."
Lee looked up. "Two of Meade's corps are on the move. Large numbers of troops are at the cars, already loaded with cannon."
A silence settled over the tent.
"Is there any doubt of their destination?" Taylor asked.
"None." Lee looked back down at the telegram. "Davis says there is no doubt that they are intended for Rosecrans, and perhaps for Burnside."
Pendleton frowned. "Two corps. That would be—"
"Enough," Lee interrupted quietly.
Pendleton stopped. Everyone understood.
Lee folded the telegram once along its original crease. The information did not surprise him. Not entirely. He had known that Washington would react.
The Federals had suffered too much at Chickamauga to do otherwise. Their army had been driven from the field, Rosecrans was dead, and Thomas was clinging to Chattanooga with what remained of the Army of the Cumberland.
Lincoln and Stanton could not simply accept such a disaster. It was inevitable that Lincoln and his administration would respond.
The question had always been when, and the answer was now.
"President Davis also says that a copy of the New York Post was obtained."
Taylor looked up. "The newspapers have confirmed the movement?"
"Apparently." Lee placed the telegram upon the map.
The New York Post had been one of the many newspapers in the North that could scarcely conceal its delight in Federal military movements. Such papers were not military documents, but in wartime even newspapers could become sources of intelligence.
Troop movements could be inferred from railway notices, casualty lists, rumors, political speeches, and reports from correspondents.
And now the movement was unmistakable. The North was beginning to pour men toward Tennessee.
Lee rose from his chair. The officers stepped aside as he moved toward the entrance of the tent.
He lifted the canvas flap. It was night now, and the air was cooler.
Missionary Ridge stretched away beneath a sky crowded with stars. Fires dotted the Confederate position like small red eyes. Men moved between them as dark silhouettes. A wagon passed somewhere below, its wheels grinding against the rough road. The smell of wood smoke mingled with that of horses and damp earth.
Farther west, beyond the ridge and the darkness, lay Chattanooga, along with the Tennessee River, and then further west Lookout Valley and then Bridgeport. The whole campaign seemed to Lee suddenly compressed into a handful of miles.
He stepped back inside. "Colonel Taylor."
"General?" Taylor answered studiously.
Lee considered his question. "How long would it take Hooker's troops to reach Chattanooga?"
Taylor glanced toward the map. "If they are traveling by rail, I presume they would go through Nashville, then south to Bridgeport."
Lee nodded. "My thoughts as well."
He bent over the map. "Washington cannot send an entire corps directly to Chattanooga. They must move through the rail network."
His finger traced the route, the troops would be routed from the Army of the Potomac up to Washington, and then northwest through West Virginia and Pennsylvania to Louisville. Finally they would move on from there to Nashville and then south to Bridgeport. Unless the Confederates intervened.
Lee's finger stopped at Bridgeport. Lee looked up at his staff. "If Hooker is coming, he will require Bridgeport. He will operate from there to open the supply line back to the Army of the Cumberland."
"All the more reason for Beauregard to take it, correct?" Colonel Marshall asked.
Lee's eyes remained fixed on the map. "Then we will drive a wedge between them, preventing any junction."
The thought pleased him. Not because Lee underestimated Hooker. Quite the contrary.
He knew Joseph Hooker too well to underestimate him. Hooker was an aggressive, energetic, and capable commander. A man with his capabilities and being given a second chance would be dangerous. .
And if the Federal government had chosen to send him west with two corps, it was because Washington believed he could restore the situation.
Lee straightened. "We have perhaps a few days."
Pendleton looked uncertain. "General, Beauregard has only just begun his movement."
"Then should we not consider delaying the operation?" Pendleton asked.
Lee turned toward him. "No."
The answer came quietly, and yet still just as forceful.
"We cannot delay." Lee answered, walking back toward the table.
"This is a race now." He placed one hand upon the map. "Time though for Thomas is a double edged sword. While it will allow him to improve his fortifcations, it also serves to strain his supply chain."
He tapped Chattanooga. "And now Washington is sending him reinforcements."
Taylor nodded. "Yes, sir."
They were building their inner defensive belt. Their outer works were spreading outward. Every hour spent waiting gave Thomas another trench, another parapet, another battery.
A frontal assault would be costly. Perhaps ruinously so.
They must seek to maneuver and deceive the Federals to their intentions till the time to strike was right. We must turn Thomas's attention away from the west and to a more pressing matter.
Lee turned toward Taylor. "Has General Jones been briefed on his operation?"
Taylor waited. "I rode and delivered the orders to him personally. He was delighted at the opportunity. Well as delighted as "Grumble" Jones gets."
"I want to speak with him personally I want to speak with him tomorrow evening at 5:00 P.M." Lee's new the importance of the next week, and Jones's cavalry would play a major part in occupying the Federal attention away from Bridgeport.
"I'll dispatch riders with a message now sir." Taylor answered as he hurriedly scribbled a note and then took it out to some orderlies to take to General Jones.
"Very Good." Lee could feel the tightness return in his chest. It never truly went away. He never liked to show weakness in front of his staff.
"If Jones can maneuver two divisions of cavalry across the Tennessee northeast of Chattanooga. Thomas will have no choice but to respond" Lee looked around the room. "He will have to pull more of his cavalry east to deal with the matter. Or risk Jones operating freely in his rear"
Everyone was shaking their head in agreement. Lee had been sending numerous messages back and forth between him and Beauregard keeping him updated on the situation.
Now they were closer than ever to their objective. Beauregard was probably marching into Trenton now. His men would be tired from the move over Lookout Mountain. But they were that much closer to moving on to Bridgeport.
Within the next few days Beauregard would be ready to move on Bridgeport and cross the Tennessee River, and yet the Federal government was already reacting.
Lee folded his hands behind his back. "They are moving faster than I anticipated."
Pendleton smiled grimly. "So are we."
Lee shook his head. "We have kept the initiative, but we must take this new information into account."
He thought of Beauregard. The Creole general had been given the most dangerous assignment of the campaign. March west, and unite Hardee's Corps with D. H. Hill's. From their they would move and seize Bridgeport. Most of the major details had been worked out, but Lee left any necessary changes up to General Beauregard. Ultimately Lee needed Beauregard to take command of this Theater so that Lee could get back to Virginia.
Lee looked again at the map. "If Hooker reaches Bridgeport before Beauregard…" He did not finish.
He did not need to, as the implications were obvious. Hooker would reinforce the garrison. From There Hooker could build up his forces for a move on Lookout Valley.
Lee would not allow that if he could prevent it. "Colonel Marshall, send a message to General Beauregard."
Marshall reached for his notebook. "What shall I say?"
Lee considered the message carefully. "Tell him the enemy is moving reinforcements from the Army of the Potomac."
Marshall's pencil moved.
Lee continued, "tell him Hooker's troops are likely headed for Bridgeport."
The pencil stopped.
"And tell him," Lee continued, "that the importance of his movement has increased." Lee paused. "Lastly, make sure he knows there is no time to waste."
Marshall nodded. He began writing again.
Lee looked toward the entrance. The wind stirred the canvas. The army slept uneasily around them. Lee wondered how many of those men understood how much depended upon the next few days. Probably more than most. The men always seemed to know the significance of the coming maelstrom.
While they probably could feel the oncoming struggle. They did not know that thousands of the enemy were already boarding trains hundreds of miles away. They did not know that in Washington, men were pushing locomotives and railway schedules to their limits.
Lee did. He looked once more at the map.
He thought of Forrest's report. Even with the incoming reinforcements, there was a remarkable opportunity before them. Perhaps the finest opportunity the Confederacy had been given since crossing the Tennessee.
Lee's expression hardened. "Colonel Venable."
"Yes, sir?" Colonel Charles Venable stepped forward.
"I want a message sent to General Forrest as well." Lee told his young adjutant.
"What should he be told?" Venable asked.
Lee considered for only a moment. "Nothing that will distract him from his present duty."
Venable waited.
Lee though considerably on the matter. "But tell him to move with all possible speed to make a junction with Beauregard and his men at Trenton."
Lee sat again. The telegram from Davis remained before him. He placed his hand upon it. For months, the Confederacy had struggled merely to survive. Now, for a brief and dangerous moment, it possessed the initiative. Lee knew better than most how quickly such moments disappeared.
He had no intention of surrendering this one. "Gentlemen," he said quietly, "we have beaten the Army of the Cumberland." His eyes moved from one officer to another. "Now we must prevent Washington from rebuilding it."
For a moment, he imagined he could hear the iron wheels carrying Hooker's soldiers south and west toward Tennessee.
The race had begun. And somewhere beyond the mountains, Beauregard would soon be moving toward Bridgeport.
armchair general a question. Would it be practical to have some units still use the short route but stay far enough back to be out of sight until the blockhouse was seized? That would save at least a proportion of the army having a long march with the wear and tear on both them and the logistical system? Probably a stupid question but thought I might as well ask.
Bringing the