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Richmond had been transformed by secession, and the subsequent establishment of the Confederate capitol here. Every building was draped with bunting, dramatic recruiting posters adorned walls and lamp posts, calling on all Virginia’s Sons to enlist in her defense. Groups with names such as the 'Defenders of Southern Honor', 'Protectors of Hearth and Home', and 'Freedom’s Avengers' urged recruits to join at once for a 'Rousing Adventure &c. Good Comradeship.' As we strolled along the bustling sidewalks, fragments of conversation drifted our way. Most spoke of a quick capitulation by the North. “Yankees got no stomach for a fight,” one shopkeeper declared loudly to a small group. “They’ll cut and run first chance they get.” A few doors down from this scene, a stout matron shared her views with a group of ladies. “You’ll see- that devil Lincoln will have to accept it, he’ll have to. We’ve made our choice and showed we’ll defend it- how can he hope to hold a Union together with bayonets?” Catching sight of us, she turned and moved into the middle of the sidewalk. A most effective roadblock, I thought, suppressing a grin. “You gentlemen,” she huffed, “I suppose have already joined one of the fine regiments defending our virtue from the rapacious Yankees?” It was less a question than a demand.
“Why of course, dear lady. Your honor will be upheld, or my saber stained with the blood of any cur who dares insult it.” This was Gordon, of course. I groaned inwardly- the last thing we needed was a delay. Correction- the last thing we needed was to attract attention to ourselves. “We are on the way to join our regiments now, having just come from a meeting with none other than General Lee himself.” I spun in shock at this, ready to jump in and try to save something of the secrecy of our mission. “My comrade and I,” Gordon nodded at me, “immediately resigned upon Mr. Lincoln’s provocation and hurried home to defend our dear home state.” Home state? He’s not from Virginia, I thought to myself. “I regret very much the necessity of wearing the uniform of an enemy nation, but we believed it our duty to present ourselves for service immediately, so great was our passion to defend our beloved land, and the honor of such fair ladies as yourselves.”
Here was a new side of Gordon, which I hadn’t expected- he could flatter. Already, the matron and her companions were blushing and smiling, their fans dancing coquettishly about their faces as they curtseyed in response to his flattery. Yes, the man was charming, I had to give him his due. “And now, dear ladies,” he continued, “I pray you’ll forgive our impatience, but we must be on our way. Time is of the essence and is too rare and fine a commodity to spend, even in such company as yours.” More giggles and blushing and waving of fans accompanied this last bit of charm, clearly the ladies had been won over to our side.
“Yes, of course you gallant gentlemen must not delay- your regiments await, as does glory and honor on the battlefield. But we mustn’t let anyone doubt your courage and loyalty, must we?” The attendant ladies all nodded vigorously. “Let us make you a gift of our cockades, so all may see and know you have done your part in our noble quest for freedom.” With that, she and another lady unpinned the clusters of entwined ribbons they had fixed to their bonnets, and with great formality pinned them to our uniforms.
Gordon and I made deep bows, and swearing eternal devotion to their protection, we made our way down the sidewalk. To my surprise, a small crowd had gathered while we were speaking with the ladies, and this group applauded and cheered heartily as we walked on. I now blessed the minor delay with the group of women, as it provided us with a mark of ‘respectability’ which would aid us in our travels. No doubt such scenes had been acted out all over the state, as officers and men made their way to join the nascent Confederate forces. While some militia units were fortunate enough to have gray uniforms, others had been issued the standard Federal blue. Officers who had resigned and returned home, like Gordon and me, were only equipped with blue, which meant an uncomfortable period of waiting for new uniforms to be ordered. We could have worn civilian clothes, but I was not comfortable reporting to General Lee in anything other than uniform. The secession cockades, then, provided a quick way to establish our credentials as defenders of Southern independence; if nothing else, they’d make Gordon more comfortable.
We continued on in silence for a few minutes, and I reflected on the way Gordon had handled the ladies. There was nothing wrong in his mentioning General Lee- from the disarray of the clerk’s office, the stack of personal correspondence, there was undoubtedly a fair number of men seeking audience with the General for any number of reasons; our purpose for being there would pass unnoticed. Still, I was used to working behind the scenes, with my written orders different from my actual orders, and any disclosure of who I ultimately answered to strictly confidential. I couldn’t expect Gordon to understand all that though, not with the limited information he had. And to be fair, he had handled them adeptly, turning what could have been an unpleasant confrontation into a success, and giving us an unquestioned status among the population- even better for passing unnoticed. Two officers on their way to join their units would merit less attention than two officers of dubious purpose strolling the streets of Richmond.
Still, I wasn’t entirely convinced that Gordon understood the absolute necessity for secrecy which our mission demanded. He wanted to be recognized, have his service lauded. A brave man, to be sure, and he was accustomed to the accolades such men are afforded. Would he be able to keep his mouth shut, not just during the mission, but long after? Would he understand that revealing any of the tricks we used, the techniques we applied, to get the information we sought could have severe consequences for future operations? I needed to find out. Spying a small inn, I suggested we stop and get something to eat. Gordon happily agreed, and we made our way across the street towards it.
The inn billed itself as ‘The Cavalier’, with a woodcut sign of a man in a ridiculously large hat with an even more ridiculous feather. The leaded glass windows were dusty and the heavy wooden door had visible seams between the boards. The hinges creaked as we opened it and went inside. As our eyes adjusted, we could see the manager behind a counter, and beyond him a room with a few tables. He looked up at us with disinterest, sighed, and grabbed an old towel from beneath the counter. “How can I help you boys?” he asked as he started wiping down the counter. His tone wasn’t particularly encouraging, but I gathered it had less to do with our uniforms and more to do with him having to do some actual work. “Got plenty of rooms if you’re staying in the city, good rates too. Cheapest you’ll find anywhere I reckon.”
“We’re just interested in some food, a quick meal if you have a dining room,” I answered, looking past him to the room with the tables. He followed my gaze and realized I had seen them. He gave a quick scowl, then shrugged as he moved out from behind the counter.
“Reckon I can fix y’all up something. Don’t have much call for meals these days, most of the staff has gone off and joined t’army. That where you boys are headed?” The innkeeper had an odd habit of squinting when he talked, giving emphasis to whatever he said.
“Yes, we’re on our way now, just need something quick to eat and we’ll be on our way,” I replied. The sooner we could get some food and some privacy, the better. The man nodded in understanding, the squint gone. His eyes were deepset and heavily bloodshot, and there was an overall air of rum hanging about. I gathered he couldn’t wait for us to leave, so he could go back to his drinking. Fine with me.
“If y’all want to pick out a table, I’ll bring you out what I got. Not much to choose from, no call for a menu these days. But it’ll be warm and fill y’all up, you boys goin’ to need your strength now soon I reckon.” The squint was back. It seemed as though he couldn’t talk and see at the same time. Overall, he was a rather shabby character- he looked to be in his fifties, but even that was a guess. His balding head was ringed with stubby grey-black hair which was shorn close to the scalp on the sides, and covered by a few stringy strands on the top. He sported a similarly-colored beard which needed trimming, and rather impressive muttonchops. His shirt, although at one time of fine quality, was now filthy and stained, and his trousers were likewise unclean. His general appearance was someone who had once been, if not well-off, comfortable but had fallen on hard times. I wondered about his story. The inn itself was also a study in fading luster. There were intricately-carved banisters leading to the rooms on the second story, beautiful wrought-iron sconces holding candles along the walls, and the carpet on the floor looked to be exceptionally well made; all of this elegance, however, was tempered by lack of care. The banisters were dusty and pulling out of the walls, the sconces covered in cobwebs, and the carpet was now threadbare, some sections being crudely patched with pieces from another carpet. As we strode into the dining room, the scene was identical: dust, decay, a general lack of attention.
We seated ourselves in a small table near the window so we had ample light. I arranged myself in a corner where I could see the whole room, while Gordon sat looking out the window. He had an air of displeasure at our surroundings which I found amusing. I’d been in much worse accommodations many times before, but clearly he was used to much more refined lodgments. After staring out the window a few minutes, he turned in his chair to face me. “I, ah, hope I’m not out of line, but, well, is this to be our normal living condition?” His face was filled with concern that my answer would be yes, and I tried hard not to laugh.
“No, this is rather unique. Normally we’ll be living in a standard commensurate with our rank. You can’t expect officers and gentlemen to live like this,” I waved my hand around the room, indicating our surroundings. “But I needed to talk to you about some things and we need to eat, so we may as well stop here.”
Gordon looked relieved. “Ah, thank you for clearing that up. I was concerned that perhaps your background was a bit, shall we say, more rough than I might be accustomed to. That is to say, not your background, but rather your service, your services in the old army. That’s what I meant.” Again I struggled not to laugh- his discomfort was strangely funny to me.
Keeping my composure, I chose my words carefully. “I blend in with the surroundings. If those surroundings are refined and stately, then so am I. If they are primitive and shabby, then I can handle that as well. There can be no room for personal comfort or preferences- whatever the conditions of the mission are, they must be accepted. That’s what makes the job so difficult. Many people, maybe most people, can’t handle that- they can only function within a narrow range. Make it too hot, too cold, too civilized, too primitive, whatever change you care to introduce, and they are unable to adapt. It’s rare to find someone at home under all conditions- even then, there are limits.”
Gordon looked at me thoughtfully. “So what are your limits? You’re at home anywhere, so where are you not at home?”
I smiled, but it was full of self-reproach, the recognition of my own limitations. “I am not comfortable anywhere.” His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond. “Let me clarify. I can function anywhere. But I’m not at home anywhere. I’m not able to relax, or let my guard down, for even a minute. I’m always alert, always watching. It gets tedious at times. So, I try to compensate for it by staying out on missions- at least there I have a reason to be nervous. Even here, now, in Richmond, I’m not relaxed.” I realized I had a death-grip on my fork, although I didn’t even remember grabbing it. I gently placed it back on the table, suddenly embarrassed by my disclosure.
“That must be tough,” he said softly. “You can’t ever lead a normal life then. How could you? How do you handle this?” He paused. “Have you ever been married? Or had a sweetheart?”
“Once. A sweetheart, not a wife. She was the daughter of our neighbor, and our parents had more or less decided we’d be married one day- more about the properties than about the actual marriage, but that was their plan. She and I were close though, always were growing up. When I went to the Point, she wrote to me often, and we were making plans to get married after I was commissioned. Shortly before graduation, I received a letter from my mother informing me that scarlet fever had swept through the valley, and that my soon-to-be fiancée was now deceased.” The memory of that day came flooding back, as it always did. Standing in the hallway reading the letter, the sense of disbelief, that nothing was real. I wasn’t eligible to take leave for the funeral, as we were so close to commissioning and she was no relation to me. The superintendent was sympathetic, but there was nothing he could do for me. No one could. Through the fog of memory I became aware that Gordon was speaking. “I’m sorry, I drifted away then. What did you say?”
Concern crossed his features as he spoke. “I said I’m very sorry for your loss, and I do apologize for bringing up such a painful memory for you. If you’d prefer not to discuss it any further, I understand.”
I smiled, gently this time. “No apologies necessary, I assure you. It helps explain why I do the work I do. There’s no sense of permanence, no sense of place, so there’s no real pull to settle down with someone, which spares me from any kind of reminder of what I’ve lost.”
“But you could still marry, raise a family, you’re in the prime of life- why not enjoy it? Why risk losing your life over and over again?”
“The same reason you do- duty. My country needed me, there was a job to do, and I did it. It turned out I was quite good at it, so I continued. By the time I looked around to see what I was doing, years had passed and I was not in a position to make the acquaintance of reputable ladies of a marriageable age. Now my new country needs me to do the same task. Who am I to say otherwise?”
“You’re a human being, with his own destiny!” Gordon was almost yelling. “Why throw your life away? You risk everything for secret missions which no one will ever see, let alone acknowledge? You willingly sacrifice your future- a family, children, a legacy? For what?” He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. “I took an oath to the United States. Swore to defend her, fought for her, I’ve buried friends who died for her. Now, I’m turning my back on that country- I have to, to protect my home, my family. I’ve thrown everything I worked for away, because I want a future- for me, for my kin, and for a family of my own one day. That’s why I’m here- if South Carolina is destroyed by war, what will I have left?” He shook his head. “You though, you I don’t understand. You have decided not to have any ties. So why then continue doing this? Leading this non-existent existence?”
I looked at him for a long time, not quite sure how to answer him. “I am fighting for Virginia, my home. My parents live here, my relatives, my neighbors, all of them live in Virginia. If war comes- when war comes- what am I supposed to do? Fight for the Yankees?”
“Of course not! You fight for your state, as I will for mine. But fight- in a regiment, side by side with your brothers, gaining the glory and the promotion and the applause you deserve. Serve your state openly, so all can be inspired by your example. Marry and raise a family so they can continue your example. You’re a good man, why should you spend your life in seedy inns,” this with a gesture at our surroundings, “and surrounded by enemies, or at best people who don’t know you or your service? Why not be a leader in the community, a respected figure who can help govern our new country?” He shook his head again. “You know what will happen, don’t you? The war will be over quickly. The regular army’s been gutted by the number of men leaving to go South, and the volunteers aren’t anywhere up to the standards of our boys. They don’t have a fighting spirit, these soft, cultured city boys. They’ll break and run, or they’ll die. And we’ll have our independence, and the men who led the regiments, the companies, will be the ones who are honored. They’ll receive promotions, gifts of land, positions in the new administrations. They’ll become the civic leaders and the benefactors. And you know as well as I do that many of them aren’t worth the cloth their uniforms are made of. They’re opportunists and parasites who used every trick in the book to get their commissions and they’ll use those same tricks to get the rewards after the war. But it’ll be the men like you and I who make it happen, and we’ll be right there to claim our share. The parasites will stick to us like ticks on a hound, but they’ll make sure we get our rewards- they’ll have to, in order to get theirs. Because we’ll have made it happen.”
“But if you continue with your secret missions, you’ll miss out on all that. General Lee will reward you after this mission with another one, and another after that. But once the first gun goes, it will be down to men in the field, in the ranks. And if you’re not part of that, then you’ll receive nothing. And that’s a shame.” He stopped speaking and stared at me, sadness creasing his brow.
We were spared further discussion by the arrival of our meal. The innkeeper gave us each a bowl of thin soup, a half loaf of bread, and a chunk of indeterminate cheese. “Sorry gents, this is all I got in the pantry. We ain’t had much in the way of visitors lately.”
We thanked him and paid the meager price he requested. Although small, the meal was quite tasty. The soup consisted of beans and bacon with some greens, and the bread was fresh. Neither of us touched the cheese. As we ate, I revisited some of Gordon’s remarks.
“I’m not a regimental officer, despite my rank. Since commissioning, I’ve been more or less an independent command- I lived in eight places my first two years of service, including in California and Washington. Most of my career has been spent on horseback, or in a train, or a ship, all of it travelling somewhere else. It’s a career I’ve become accustomed to, and quite frankly I can’t imagine doing anything else at this point. I don’t even think I can do anything else- I know less about the infantry than I did as a cadet, even though I’m supposedly ‘qualified’ to be a company commander. I realize that a great many men with no service are now being commissioned into those roles; but the men who were company-grade in the old army will be field-grade in the new army. Granted, there are men being commissioned as colonels and majors who have no experience, but I can’t bring myself to being placed into a command I’m not qualified for.”
“But how do you know you’re not qualified?” he asked. “You’ve never done it, so you’ve no way of knowing if you’re capable or not. It’s not about the parade-ground drilling, any fool can learn that. It’s the leadership, the coolness under fire, the resourcefulness. You’ve got all of that. You should give yourself a chance to use it and see just how far it can take you.” Gordon paused. “I’ve been chasing Indians for the last few years, and I can tell you that what they teach at the Point isn’t what’s needed in a fight. Saber charges on horseback are the quickest way to get killed. We’re better trained, equipped, and supplied than the Indians- so why is it so difficult to beat them?” I shrugged. “Because we train to fight armies, they train to fight. That’s the difference. They don’t care who they’re up against, they teach their young warriors how to wait in ambush, when to strike, what the best way to make use of their weapons is, where our weaknesses are. We train to use formations to break up enemy formations- but what do we do when there is no enemy formation? That’s our weakness- our strict adherence to doctrine. That’s why we need officers who can think beyond training, beyond doctrine, who are, to coin a phrase, ‘used to independent command’ and can apply that to a battlefield,” he smiled as he said this. “And just to anticipate your question, no- I’ve never been married either. I plan to one day, but I come from a large family and have several older brothers, so my claim on the family estate will be small. I’m hoping to enhance my position through the army, and the best way to do that is through heroism in battle. Once I make a name for myself, I’ll be able to find a nice young heiress to marry and I’ll settle down to the life of a country gentleman.”
I had to laugh, his self-confidence was beyond anything I’d ever encountered. He rattled off his plan as though it were set in stone and nothing could affect it. Maybe he was right. The army would need good commanders, and he was certain to rise in rank. That alone would gain him access to the inner circles of society. Add in the renown he’d get from heroic deeds and he’d be a most eligible bachelor indeed. For his sake, I hoped it would turn out that way.
As we finished the meal, I turned our attention once more to the task at hand. “One more thing. Once we wrap this mission up and return to Richmond, we can never speak of it to anyone. This is important. The methods we use to gain access to information, the people we go to for help, this can all be cut off if it’s discovered that we used it. Not even General Lee will know by what means we obtained the information.”
Gordon nodded, then let out a low whistle. “You don’t go in for half measures, do you? Not even General Lee?”
“Not even him.”
“But why?”
“The more people who know about our methods, the more people who can talk about it, even by accident. If General Lee knows only the information and that we obtained it, what’s the most he can ever say? That he got information from us. And as long as we never talk about it, it ends there. But if we tell him how and where we obtained it, and he mentions it by accident, or through carelessness, or even indirectly references it to someone who is in a position to understand what we did, then it could get back to the Yankees and they’ll make sure it never happens again.”
Gordon blinked. “What do you mean, ‘someone who is in a position to understand’?”
“I mean, what we are doing, they can do as well. You think I was the only one doing this job? I’m certain General Lee had others, I came close to proving it once. Other commanders may have done so as well. The Federals will be looking for spies and people passing information to us. They’ll no doubt have their own people doing the same thing down here. One wrong word to one of their agents, and they’ll know where the information came from.”
Gordon tossed his napkin on the table; like everything else, it too was stained. “I want to go back to the cavalry.”
I stood up. “Then let’s go find you a horse.”