Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [26]
He reached into his vest pocket, drew out a folded paper, opened it, and Jackson could see a ribbon, the seal of some importance.
From: The Honorable Henry A. Wise, Governor, the Commonwealth of Virginia.
To: Colonel Francis H. Smith, Commandant, Virginia Military Institute.
By Special Order, the Of cers and Corps of Cadets, Virginia Military Institute, shall report to Charlestown, Virginia, on the twenty-eighth day of November, 1859, for the purpose of maintaining the general security, for the protection of the town and its inhabitants, and for the prevention of any violent uprising from interfering with the execution by hanging of Mr. John Brown.
Jackson felt a sudden lump in his stomach. The insurrection that John Brown had attempted was a hot topic, and reckless rumors had flooded over the countryside after his capture. But he had believed the Federal Army would handle the matter. Someone spoke, Jackson turned and saw Major Gilham.
“Colonel, are we to be the only security?”
“Let’s just say, Major, we’re the only organized security. The governor has already issued a call for militia, and units from all over the state have been assembled, but I would not place much stock in their ability to do anything more than cause trouble. Oh, and there’s one more thing.” Smith looked back to the paper, found his place, stopped.
“Well, no need to read it all, point is, not only are we to provide security, but it appears the good governor has decided that I am to be the executioner in charge. I don’t have to tell you that, in fact, our Corps of Cadets, with you gentlemen in command, may find itself up against . . . well, God knows what.”
Jackson felt a low fire deep in his gut, thought of his guns, the artillery crews. They were very young, and some of them were not very good, but he began to run the faces through his mind, assess the skills.
“Gentlemen,” Smith continued, “your commands will cover your areas of expertise, of course. In the morning, we will issue the order to the corps to move out. Major Jackson . . .”
Jackson’s thoughts scrambled, he snapped to attention and stared straight, past the colonel.
“Major, you will bring a two-piece battery of your cannon. Pick some good boys, Major. This could be a difficult assignment.”
“Yes, sir. Already working on it, sir.”
Smith spoke to the other officers individually, and Jackson did not hear, had his orders. Then they were dismissed, and he moved back outside, felt the cold chill of the night, looked across the parade grounds, the wide space guarded by his guns. He looked at them, each one, and nodded, a brief greeting to the heavy brass, then he graded, appraised, silently chose the two he would take, and smiled, a quick, cold clench of his mouth. Then he turned and marched home through a starless night.
ON THEIR fifth day camped around Charlestown, the cadets woke to an early breakfast and new orders. Then there were drums, a slow cadence, giving a rhythm to the troops, who marched in line, filed into a large field, and formed their units. The artillery were first, had set up on the high ground, and Jackson stood by one of his cannon and faced the tall wooden scaffold, looking across to his other gun, pointing out, away from the forming troops. The units of cadet infantry filed in behind the scaffold, a vast rolling field, neat blocks of bright red, new field uniforms the cadets were wearing for the first time. Jackson’s handpicked gun crew stood at rigid attention, and there was no talking, no looking about. From the vantage point of the rise, Jackson could see all the others, the ragged formation of volunteer troops, and beyond, the buildings of the town. A crowd of people filled the road with the temper and bluster of a careless mob, following a wagon, and Jackson knew the cadets could not control a riot, that they had to depend on these people to control themselves.
The wagon climbed the rise, rolled closer. Jackson could see a soldier on horseback leading the way, and then the wagon itself, carrying several officials and the local sheriff. High up above