The Fateful Lightning Read Online Free

surprised by the question. “Well, most certainly, sir. Every officer I’ve spoken with has virtually erupted with enthusiasm for this adventure. Every one!”
    The word rolled through Sherman’s brain.
Adventure
. “Pretty exciting stuff for you, then? War? Blood, intestines, severed limbs? And dead horses. Make sure you include that one, too. Make note of the stench.”
    “Sir, my apologies. I did not mean to suggest that war is anything…”
    “Here’s what I suggest, Conyngham. I suggest you pick up a musket, fix the bayonet, and wander out a ways away from this column. There’s rebel cavalry out there watching every move we make. You’ll find all the
adventure
you want pretty quick.”
    “Again, my apologies, sir. I spoke in error. I served with the Irish Brigade, in case you were not aware. I have witnessed a great deal of this war, and its cost. I do not intend to glorify anything this army accomplishes. Or you, sir. There is much to see here, much to experience.”
    “And all of that stuff will make it into your story?”
    “It will. I have to ask, sir, do you know how long it will be before I can telegraph a dispatch northward?”
    Sherman reached for a fresh cigar, kept his eyes on the marching column. “You know, that’s the kind of question a spy would ask. You a spy, Mr. Conyngham?”
    He could feel the reporter’s frustration, felt a tinge of satisfaction.
    “General, please. You know my credentials. Technically, I am a commissioned officer, with the rank of captain. Whether or not I actually command troops is of course up to you. It is not a responsibility I am seeking. You personally authorized me to accompany you, one of only a few men of the press allowed to do so. I am grateful for that. I only hope to be able to offer some account of this campaign when the time is right.”
    Sherman knew he was being outdueled, had no talent for wordplay. “I don’t know, Conyngham. You not have a chance to send a story out before we left Atlanta?”
    “Yes, sir, I did. The lines were severed only four days ago, and I was fortunate. We were given no warning of that.”
    “The warning went to the people who needed it. I gave the order. Sorry I didn’t consult you newsboys first.”
    Conyngham lowered his voice, leaned closer. “Sir, I am well aware of your disdain for my profession. I am not here to insult you, or humiliate you. I have no cause to soil your name. I accept my role as an observer, to chronicle this campaign. Is that not a good thing? For this army? For you, sir?”
    Sherman let out a breath. “Suppose so.”
    Conyngham straightened. “Thank you for that, sir.” He paused. “General, if I may ask, a number of the others are curious as well. Why did you not leave behind a force to defend our positions in Atlanta? Do you not fear the rebels might return to the city? So much effort to capture the place. And, if the rebels were to retake the city, would that not pose some hazard to this march?”
    Sherman pondered the question, knew it had been asked in Washington as well. “A short time ago, there was a rebel cavalry raid in Tennessee. Place called Johnsonville. You familiar with this fellow Forrest?”
    “Certainly, sir. Nathan Bedford Forrest. A scourge, no doubt.”
    “He’s a hell of a cavalryman. Scourge, too, I suppose. Couple weeks ago, he waltzes his crew up the bank of the Tennessee River, fires afew artillery rounds into our depot there. Strong position, good many of our boys, a fair amount of artillery of our own. You know what happened? Our boys ran scared, scrambled toward Nashville like a flock of frightened sheep. Cost us, hell, maybe two million dollars. Why’d they run, you might ask? ’Cause it was Forrest. The
scourge
. That’s all it took. Well, right now he’s feeling pretty fat and happy. No doubt he’ll hit us again, bust up the railroad, every supply line we have out of Georgia.”
    “You think he might move up behind us? Capture Atlanta?”
    “No. Hood