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  Chapter Six: Southern Strategy

  “I want you all to know that I called this meeting because I think we’re facing an important crossroads,” said General Winder, beckoning for the other three men—Mayor Mayo, Councilman McIntyre and Colonel Wendt—to study the large map he was unfolding.

  “As you can see, we are surrounded on three sides,” the white-haired general said quietly but firmly, his finger sweeping the map. “The Yankees are probably 120,000 strong. I doubt if we have 60,000 able-bodied troops defending the city of Richmond.”

  Mayor Mayo shook his head sadly. “Can we hold?”

  General Winder nodded his head vigorously. “General Lee is a wizard. He’s defeated Yankee armies twice his size more than once. If anyone can hold, he can.”

  “But we are hard-pressed and the situation is getting worse,” added Colonel Wendt gloomily. “Food is getting scarce. We have barely enough to feed our soldiers much less all the Yankee prisoners we’re obliged to take care of. Meanwhile, the people of Richmond go hungry.”

  It’s those darn Yankees,” said General Winder, exasperation in his voice. “They refuse to exchange prisoners anymore so we’re stuck with thousands of Yankee mouths to feed.”

  “They refuse to exchange prisoners because our soldiers ignore the terms of their parole and come right back to fight for their regiment,” said Mayor Mayo.

  “True, very true,” said the colonel, “but the Yankees have an endless supply of manpower. Their losses outpace ours at a rate of two to one. And yet they still keep coming. We need every southern man we can get to resist their aggression.”

  “Rightly spoken, Colonel,” said the mayor, “but you can hardly expect the Yankees to be stupid enough to send all of our soldiers back to us if they know they’ll be facing them across the line a couple of days later.”

  “No, the Yankees haven’t been stupid. At least not since they put the army under General Grant. Grant is not the soldier that Lee is, but he’s a battering ram, and one that never seems to get tired.”

  “And now he’s battering Richmond,” said Mayor Mayo. “The question is whether there’ll be anything left of our great city when it’s all over.”

  “What are you suggesting, Mayor?” asked General Winder, turning to face Mayo.

  “I am simply stating that I do not eagerly look forward to the utter destruction of the fairest jewel in the Confederate crown. Richmond is not just the capitol of the Virginia and the capitol of the Confederacy, it one of the greatest cities—perhaps the greatest—of both. If we can possibly avoid its destruction, we should strive to do so.”

  “By capitulating?” asked the colonel angrily.

  “By repositioning our forces,” replied the mayor calmly. “Lee has stated plainly that defending Richmond is a burden. If Lee were no longer obligated to shield Richmond, he could maneuver independently and be able to strike the Yankees when and where he desires.”

  “But the city of Richmond remains a proud beacon for the rest of the Confederacy,” objected Colonel Wendt.

  “It will be of precious little use as a beacon when it has been reduced to ashes,” responded the mayor bitterly.

  “All of this misses the point,” interrupted Mr. McIntyre. “We need no defeatist talk here.” He glared at the mayor, who shook his head sadly. “Richmond will not fall to the Yankees—not unless we allow her to fall by failing to do our duty within the city.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?” demanded Mayor Mayo.

  “I think, sir, that you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m referring to the nest of spies that plagues this great city. It has been two years since we’ve taken any action against the traitors in our midst. And in the meantime, the criminal acts continue. Several fires have been started at the Tredegar Iron Works and this despite the armed guard that constantly patrols the grounds. As you know, sir, the iron works are the greatest in the entire Confederacy. If they are lost to us…well, then the South is lost. And yet several attempts to destroy them have occurred. Not from outside, not by the Yankees at our gates, but by the Yankees and Yankee sympathizers within our walls.”

  “No serious damage has been done,” the mayor protested indignantly. “In every case the problem has been dealt with in a timely fashion. If the Iron Works are quiet now, it is for lack of raw materials, not because of espionage.”

  “Again, you miss the point!” thundered Mr. McIntyre. ‘If the spies have failed to bring down the Iron Works, they have not failed to disrupt our city—and our forces—in a thousand ways! I am absolutely convinced that information about our troop movements is given to the Yankees on a regular basis. And there are spies to be found in petticoats as well as pantaloons; I am absolutely convinced of it.”

  General Winder nodded his head in agreement. “Well, there certainly is that Van Lew woman. Some people think that she’s just a crazy old loon, but we’re highly suspicious that she is consorting with Yankee spies.”

  “But we haven’t been able to prove it, even though we have tried to entrap her on various occasions,” Mayor Mayo said, shaking his head vigorously.

  “Bah!” snorted Mr. McIntyre, shaking his fist at the mayor. “You have no need of proof and you know it! The old ordinance states the point clearly: if the mayor finds reason to believe that certain people entertain dangerous opinions, then those people may be—nay, should be—arrested for the protection of the good people of Richmond.”

  “But I can not do so on a whim, Mr. McIntyre, either yours or mine,” said the mayor. “There must be evidence of criminal wrong-doing.”

  “Evidence!” Mr. McIntyre spat out the word angrily. “There is evidence aplenty for whoever has eyes and sees what’s going on right in front of him. Just yesterday, I heard through my contacts that yet another free black was attempting to flee the city. I assure you that I put a stop to it immediately. Several detectives were dispatched to deal with this ingrate—this thankless wretch for whom thousands of decent southern boys have died.”

  “What are you talking about, McIntyre?” asked the mayor.

  “You heard what I said. We can’t let any black man who gets an idea in his head to just up and go and leave Richmond defenseless.”

  “Was he a spy?” asked the colonel.

  “No, sir, he was a traitor! A traitor to Richmond! He should be working for the defense of the city, not seeking to flee it like a coward!”

  Mayor Mayo sighed. “Perhaps, but Richmond could use a few less mouths to feed. We are near starvation.”

  “But the man might have been an asset to the city…if we had the courage to make a bold decision,” said Mr. McIntyre.

  “To what decision do you refer, sir!” demanded General Winder. “I do hope you are not proposing that we arm the blacks and have them fight the Yankees for us!”

  “I would not be the first to make that proposal, General Winder,” replied Mr. McIntyre coolly.

  “But McIntyre,” objected Colonel Wendt, “the black man could never be a proper soldier.”

  “I believe that question has been put to rest, Colonel,” said the mayor, shaking his head sadly. “The blacks seem to fight well enough for the Yankees.”

  “Yes! And that’s the worst of it. Our own slaves sent to fight against us! Fighting against the homeland where they were raised and treated properly…” said McIntyre, summoning up his most eloquent tone.

  “You could hardly be surprised if the slaves don’t see the situation in quite that light,” said the Mayor quietly.

  “I don’t care how they see it!” bellowed McIntyre. “The fact of the matter is that the South has been good to them—the Confederacy has been good to them! It is time for them to step up and serve their country! The Yankees are just taunting us by using black troops against us. It’s time we turned the table on them.”

  “If there are no objections from their owners,” said Colonel Wendt, “but that’s by no means a certainty. A slave can be worth over a thousand dollars to its owners. A dead sla
ve is worth nothing, no matter if he was killed in defending our city.”

  “Sir, southern families have given up their husbands and sons to defend the honor of the Confederacy,” said Mr. McIntyre grandly. “Surely, they will gladly make their possessions available.”

  “Maybe,” said Mayor Mayo slowly, “but I am not…”

  “Do you suggest that we offer them their freedom for fighting the Yankees?” interrupted General Winder.

  “Perhaps,” replied Mr. McIntyre.

  “But does that not undermine one of the basic foundations of the Confederacy?” cried the general. “If a black man can make as good a soldier as a white…and if we are forced to free slaves in order to save our country…what of the country remains to save?”

  “It may be a cheap price for peace, General,” said the mayor.

  “No solution can be cheap, Mayor Mayo,” replied the General. “Two many young lives have already been taken.”

  “I say that all of this talk is futile,” insisted McIntyre. “Right now, we must make use of every able-bodied man. The free blacks can stop a bullet as well as anyone and they are no man’s property. They must be used to fight against the Yankees. As far as the slaves are concerned, we’ll face that decision when we have to. But the time for action is now. And Mayor, you must move—and move quickly—against the spies that are among us in Richmond. For if you do not move quickly, there are justice-loving men that will take matters into their own hands.”