Authors: R.E. Thomas
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, places, and events portrayed are products of the author’s imagination or used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BLACK GOLD MEDIA
Copyright © 2013 by R.E. Thomas
ISBN-13: 978-0988892200 (print)
ISBN-10: 0988892200 (print)
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, contact the author or Black Gold Media.
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To my father,
my first and best example
of a man pursuing his dreams
The death of Lieutenant General Thomas J. Jackson stands as the great “what if?” of the Civil War. The only event during the war that comes close to producing the same amount of speculation is the battle of Gettysburg, and many scenarios for a Confederate victory at Gettysburg are based on the survival and presence of Stonewall Jackson.
Southerners probably first began wondering what might have been if their beloved Stonewall had lived in the wake of Lee’s defeat at Gettysburg. Indeed, in Michael Shaara’s landmark novel,
The Killer Angels
, they began wondering after the first day of that battle. Shaara put the following words into the mouth of the irascible Isaac Tremble, summing up the sentiments of many:
“General Ewell, we have got to take that hill. General Jackson would not have stopped like this with the bluebellies on the run and plenty of light left and a hill like that empty.”
Yet the difficulty with sending Stonewall Jackson to Gettysburg has always been one of realism, since it demands Jackson emerge from the violent and confused clash in the dense, second-growth forest around Chancellorsville with either light wounds or no wounds at all. That was most unlikely. The friendly fire incident that claimed Jackson’s life also killed several of his aides, and Jackson was struck by no fewer than three bullets. Major General A.P. Hill was himself wounded upon replacing Jackson, and Lieutenant General James Longstreet was wounded in another friendly fire incident at the Battle of the Wilderness a year later, just a few miles from where Jackson was shot.
All of these officers were killed and wounded doing what good officers did during the Civil War, namely overseeing things personally and exposing themselves to danger in the process. As it turned out, the Virginia Wilderness around Chancellorsville was a particularly lethal place to do that.
So imagining Stonewall Jackson as escaping Chancellorsville unscathed misconstrues the kind of man he was, as well as doing a disservice to the particularly horrific combat that took place in the Virginia Wilderness in 1863 and 1864. However, the injuries Jackson suffered need not have been mortal. The majority of patients who endured amputations such as Jackson’s survived.
If Jackson had recovered from his wounds, his recovery would have come too late for him to have participated in the Gettysburg Campaign, but what might have happened after that? It is from that question that
Stonewall Goes West
springs.
As a consumer of military history, one of my pet peeves is a book lacking maps, since regional and battlefield maps greatly simplify following the course of events. This is so much the case that I have often been forced to sketch out crude maps of my own when the author and publisher of a given book have failed to provide them.
Sadly, publishing constraints forced me to commit the sin of omitting maps from
Stonewall Goes West
. Instead, I have drawn a set of maps and made them available on my author’s website (
stonewallgoeswest.com
) and my author’s Facebook page (
facebook.com/stonewallgoeswest
).
Another issue affecting clarity in this novel was how to name the various military units in a way that wasn’t a burden to the reader, but at the same time didn’t sour the tenor of the narrative. My solution deviates from the nomenclature of the period to some degree, but I felt it necessary and shall explain my method.
At the top, the North preferred to name field armies after rivers (“Army of the Potomac”), whereas the South preferred territorial designations (“Army of Northern Virginia”). This is a crucial distinction in
Stonewall Goes West
, as it separates the Federal Army of the Tennessee (named for the river) and the Confederate Army of Tennessee (named for the state).
The Confederate Army often referred a given corps, division or brigade after the man permanently assigned to lead it. Hence Archer’s Brigade, Heth’s Division, and Hill’s Corps at Gettysburg. I have adopted this system to refer to both Federal and Confederate units, and chose to do so for two reasons. One is that referring to a unit by the name of the man leading it reinforces its connection to that character, and makes it easier for the reader to follow what that character is doing in the story. The other is that the Federal method, which might refer to the above arrangement as 3rd Brigade, 2nd Division, 3rd Corps, produces stumbling blocks in the text that only those who are intimate with military terminology could easily navigate.
The exception to that rule is the corps of the Federal Army. These were identified using Roman numerals (“II Corps”), a system still in use today. I have kept that system because I found it visually distinctive, and it highlighted the differences between the Federal and Confederate armies without becoming cumbersome and confusing.
A book may have only one parent, but always has many midwives. Writing a work of alternate history is a daunting task, because when well-done it is still at its heart still historical fiction, and therefore carries the special burden of accurately weaving accurate details into what is otherwise a fictional story. I am therefore thankful that I had a huge volume of readily accessible material to work from, and that so many people proved helpful in bringing this tale to life.
A few individuals personally contributed to my research, and therefore deserve special attention. Kathy Niedergeses at the Lawrence County Archives was instrumental in helping me construct the landscape for the Battle of Lawrenceburg. Edwin G. Frank, a professor at the University of Memphis and President of the West Tennessee Historical Society, steered me in the right direction on several crucial matters, as did Ann Toplovich at the Tennessee Historical Society.
I must also extend thanks to the people who assisted me with the nitty gritty of making this book happen. Several years of publishing experience gave me a firm foundation for producing this novel, but I could never have done it all alone. On the editorial side, I owe some thanks to Amy Brown, Scott Peters, and Elena Pavlova. On the artistic side, Cindy Flora turned my vision of a one-armed Stonewall Jackson giving orders to Patrick Cleburne and Nathan Bedford Forrest into reality, while my former Wilson Center colleague Lianne Helper did the cover design. Without the help of all these people, crafting this book into shape would have been impossible.
I must also acknowledge the support that came from my family. My mother and father-in-law were my biggest fans as I plowed through multiple drafts of
Stonewall Goes West
, while my sister was the one who reminded me that my father, J.K. Thomas, would have been the first to approve of what I was doing. Finally, I must thank my wife, who has never wavered from supporting me in spending however much time was necessary (including the diversion of some of our precious vacation time) to finish this project.
October 13, 1863
3 p.m.
Lee’s Headquarters, Army of Northern Virginia, CSA
The Warren Green Hotel
Warrenton, Virginia
Jackson tightened the grip on his reins by reflex, the sole outward sign of his irritation. His orders were to halt on the northeastern outskirts of Warrenton, to rest his men, and permit them time to cook rations. He thought the stop a mistake, hadn’t agreed, had even argued against it, but he had obeyed faithfully. Obedience was a soldier’s duty, and that was that.
So the men had fallen out, built their fires, boiled acorn coffee and foraged white cabbage, and fried hoecakes. They would have food in their bellies, Jackson thought, but they should be pressing on, as soon as possible. The army was losing time, and he would happily trade the full bellies of the men to get that time back.
He stopped in front of the Warren Green Hotel. Horses were tied up all up and down the street, and a dusty courier sat in a rocking chair on the front porch, strumming out the notes of “Bonnie Blue Flag” on the strings of his fiddle.
Jackson fumbled his dismount, stumbling off, caught in the stirrup. A man caught him, set him aright, and asked “Are you well, sir?”
Turning, Jackson saw it was Lee’s chief aide, Major Walter Taylor. Jackson had known Taylor since before the war, as his former student at the Virginia Military Institute, and thought he had grown into a slim, dapper young man, but one who looked more like a banker than a soldier, what with his well-combed hair and neatly trimmed goatee.