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The Last Full Measure

Page 15

by Jeff Shaara


  He saw Hill coming up the road, the horse brought him closer, and Hill looked very bad, the eyes deep and dark, the face drawn. Even Hill's uniform was bleak and plain, no insignia of rank, the black hat slumped down around Hill's ears. Hill said, "Good morning, Sir. Fine day for a fight."

  Lee nodded, said, "Good morning, General Hill. We should ride forward, if you please."

  Lee nudged the horse gently and moved alongside the column of men. They rode for several minutes, the daylight growing stronger, but Off the road, in the woods, the daylight did not matter, there was nothing to be seen. The road curved slightly, and suddenly there was a break off to the left, a wide field. Lee saw a small house on the far side, 'turned the horse. Hill followed, and the staff stayed behind, spread out ,.in the field. They moved close to the house, and' Lee reined the horse, listened hard. He stared up to the north, toward the turnpike, heard a roll of musket fire, a dull rattle muffled by the dense growth. Now there was more fire, to the west, in front of Hill's column.

  Hill looked to his staff, said, "Send some people up there... I want to know who we are facing. Get me some idea of strength!" There were salutes, and men rode out toward the road, moving quickly away.

  Lee said, "Your lead division... is General Heth, is it not?"

  "Yes, Sir. We should have heard something by now." Hill was sweating, and Lee could hear the pain in his voice. Now Lee heard another sound, familiar, heavy hoofbeats, and a small group of horsemen came out of the trees in front. Lee saw it was Stuart.

  Lee could not help a smile, saw the cape, the fresh uniform, his hat spouting a black peacock feather, one side of the brim pinned to the top, and he could not look at Hill now, would not subject himself to the amazing contrast between these two men.

  "General Stuart, your appearance suggests something of a celebration."

  Stuart was beaming at Lee's reception, swept the hat down in a low sweeping bow.

  "Mon general, I am at your service."

  Lee dismounted, and the others followed, and Lee moved closer to the old house. Stuart bounded forward, and Lee knew the sign, knew there would be a burst of words.

  "General Stuart, please report."

  "Sir! You will find that the enemy has performed an admirable service. He is at this moment spread out all over the countryside. I have observed only a small force in front of this column, skirmishers mostly, but they are reinforcing. General Hill should expect to meet no more than a division at the crossroads to the east. Haste would be advisable, Sir."

  Lee looked at Hill, and Hill said, "We are moving to meet them. I am aware of the importance of the Brock Road intersection. I have instructed General Heth to advance as quickly as he can."

  There was little enthusiasm in his voice. Hill did not have any of Stuart's energy, the tight bursts of emotion, the anger and the fire for what was coming toward them. Lee said, "General Stuart, there is musket fire in the north. Have you been in contact with General Ewell?"

  Stuart turned that way, and they all listened. The firing had slowed to a small scattering of faint pops.

  "No, Sir. I have not been able to ride up that way. The ground between the roads is quite dense, Sir. I believe the maps do not account -." Stuart reached into his coat, pulled out a small piece of paper, unrolled it, studied it a brief moment, then held it out to Lee.

  "Here, Sir. The turnpike is well north of us at this position, Sir. The maps show us closer together than we really are."

  Lee listened for the guns again, but the sounds had faded into silence. He said, "Yes, I am aware that the maps are somewhat in error, and so we have a problem. There is a wide gap between us and General Ewell. He must not bring on an engagement before we have filled that gap. If General Grant discovers we are in two separate positions, he will cut us in two. General Hill, you must move a brigade off to the left, spread them into the woods to the north. We cannot allow any of Grant's people to cut between." He stopped, frozen. The others were watching him, and now began to turn, following his gaze.

  A hundred yards away, at the far edge of the woods, a single line of blue soldiers was moving slowly forward, had stepped clear of the thick brush. Lee felt a hard cold fist in his chest, and for a moment no one moved at all. Then, across the field, one hand went up, there was a small quick shout. The blue troops stopped, facing Lee, and there was complete silence. Lee could see their faces, saw them looking straight at him, at Stuart's striking uniform, in stunned amazement. He thought, Surely, they must know... they must know who we are... who I am. Lee turned his head slowly toward Traveller, thought about the saddlebag, the pistol he never wore, and he began to move slowly, heard his footsteps in the grass, looked again at the line of blue, the muskets slowly coming up,..

  pointing toward them. He looked at the one man who had spoken, the man in charge, the hand

  Still in the air, hanging there, could see the man's fingers balling Slowly into a fist. Lee reached behind him, felt for the flap of the saddlebag, reached inside, felt the steel of the pistol, wrapped his fingers around the handle, began to pull it free of the bag, still watched the one man, the fist in the air. The hand began to move, came slowly down. The man said something, a quiet voice, and the line of men suddenly backed away, merged back into the thickness of the trees and were gone.

  Now Stuart moved by him, was quickly up on his horse, and Hill had climbed onto his horse too, moved forward, put the horse between Lee and the woods. Stuart said, "They're gone! We scared 'em Away!" He began to spin the horse, yelling out, waving the hat and then the others were all on their horses.

  Lee said '"General Stuart, we should move out of this field. General Hill, I would suggest you bring your people out this way with some haste. Those men could be in advance of a much larger force. We cannot allow them to reach this place...."

  He saw a column of Hill's men coming forward, already moving into the field, officers shouting. One man rode up close to Hill, saluted, said something Lee could not hear. Hill pointed to the far trees, and the men began to run forward, streaming past Lee. He looked at Stuart again, and Stuart was smiling, red-faced. He said, "General Lee, the enemy has missed another opportunity! They had no idea... they were so close!"

  Lee looked again to the trees, saw Hill's men forming a wide straight line, moving forward into the woods, and he began to let down, felt the cold shake in his hands, smiled, nodded at Stuart's excitement. Yes, they had been very close. It had been up to one man, perhaps a sergeant, one man who could have given the order to fire, but instead he'd seen the situation very differently. He may have thought his small command had made a dangerous mistake, lost in the brush perhaps, seeking out some landmark, some direction, and stumbled into the lines of the enemy. Instead of making an aggressive move, of capturing or assaulting this small group of men and horses, they had been wary, cautious. Lee glanced at the sky, said a small prayer. You had a hand in this, it was not yet my time, thank You.

  Stuart was still watching the trees, his horse jerking about in small jumps, and Lee could feel Stuart's hot energy, the flare for the fight, the enemy so close to them, thought, No, General, we did not scare them away, it was this place... this infernal thicket that made them cautious. But they will go back and find their commander, and then they will return.

  THEY WERE OUT IN FRONT OF HIM NOW, HAD FILED INTO THE woods, spreading into thick lines, pressing forward. There had been some musket fire, but it was not concentrated. Hill's men had not yet found the strong lines of the enemy. Lee stared to the north, to the wide gap that still yawned between Hill and Ewell, tried to hear the sounds of a fight above them, if Ewell had gone too far forward. It was still small and scattered, and Lee thought, Wait... not yet. He had sent word back to Longstreet again, move up now, and the reply had come that Longstreet was on the move, would be there by dawn the next day.

  The staff was moving all around him, couriers bringing in pieces of information. Stuart was doing what he could to protect Hill's flanks, but the woods were no place for c
avalry. There was nothing to be seen until you burst right into the faces of the enemy, then suddenly found yourself within a few yards of surprised infantry-men waiting for the sounds in front of them to become motion, something to shoot at.

  He paced near the old house, knew what was happening, that both armies were groping blindly, thought, Grant is not moving away, or trying to get past us to the south, but is spread out in the tangle to our front. And that is where we need him to be.

  There was a shout behind him, and Lee heard Taylor, turned, saw Pendleton coming out of the woods. Lee was suddenly anxious, the first word from Ewell since the distant sounds had reached them.

  Pendleton saw him, drove the horse close, dismounted.

  "Sir... General Ewell sends his compliments. The general wishes to report that he has done as you instructed, Sir. He has deployed across the turnpike and is now strengthening those lines, Sir. The left flank is secure up toward the river, we are trying to extend the right flank in this direction. It is difficult ground, but General Early's division is in place." Pendleton was breathing heavily, and Lee waited, let him catch his breath.

  "Thank you, Colonel. What can you tell me about the position of the enemy?"

  Pendleton said, "Sir, the enemy is right in front of us. We have observed heavy columns moving from left to right. General Ewell... General Ewell will not advance unless you order him to, Sir."

  Lee saw the look in Pendleton's face, understood the young man would say no more than that, did not have to. Lee looked up toward the north, thought, I cannot make all your decisions, General.

  He looked at Pendleton, said, "We must not bring on a general engagement until we are at full strength. But if General Ewell sees the opportunity, if the enemy is vulnerable, he must not allow those people to get past him."

  Pendleton was watching him, and Lee saw something in his face: silent frustration.

  "Colonel, I do not know what strength is in front of him. He Must make that decision. Tell him he must do what the conditions Suggest.)) Pendleton stiffened, said, "Yes, sir, I understand." Pendleton climbed on the horse, and there was a new sound, and they all looked to the north, stared across the field past the house, felt the wave of sound roll across them, the steady high rattle of muskets, and this time it did not fade, but grew, deep and steady. Lee looked at Pendleton, said, "I believe General Ewell's decision has been made for him."

  Grant

  MORNING, MAY 5, 1864

  THERE WAS NO CAVALRY BETWEEN THE GREAT MASSES OF infantry. Wilson's division had moved too far south, well below Lee's position, had lost themselves the vast tangles, and finally had run straight into a heavy fight with Stuart. The sounds were hidden by the dense mass of woods, and so no one at Grant's headquarters knew that they had no screen at all, that down both roads to the west there was nothing but Lee's army, moving toward them like two hard spikes, driving straight for the exposed flanks of blue.

  Meade had moved away from Grant's headquarters, the camp wagons loaded early and rolled south near a place called the Lacy house. Grant waited up near the river for the approach of Burnside's corps, still had no reason to expect Lee to be so close.

  The COFFEE WAS GONE, THE TABLES BEING CLEARED, AND GRANT moved the tent. He had heard nothing from Meade, could now hear the low rattle of distant muskets, the occasional sharp thunder of a single cannon. He picked up his coat, the plain dark jacket, did not look at the only bit of color, the shoulder straps that carried his three small gold stars. He reached down through his camp 4chest, felt for the wooden box, pulled it up, opened it, saw the mass of black cigars, more gifts from the people. He grabbed a handful, stuffed them into his coat, put the box down, then paused, reached down again, grabbed the rest, stuffed them into another pocket, thought, this could be a long day.

  He moved back into the sharp daylight, pulled his coat around his shoulders, pulled on his dull cotton gloves, saw the headquarters wagons moving out into the road, waiting for his order to move. Around him staff officers moved in unhurried calm, no one concerned about the sounds of the guns. One man sat at a table, writing on a thick brown pad of paper, and Grant saw it was Horace Porter. He moved that way, and the young man stood, saluted, waited for Grant to speak.

  Porter was a tall, thin man, handsome, with a small goatee. He had been with McClellan early in the war, was later sent at his own request to the West, where he served with Rosecrans. When Grant replaced Rosecrans at Chattanooga, Porter had built a reputation for organizing artillery, and was ordered to Washington to sit in an office close to Halleck. But Grant remembered the bright young man with affection. Porter had recognized something in Grant that was profoundly different from the sluggishness of his other commanders, and so when Grant was given command of the army, Porter requested to join Grant's staff. Now he was the most popular man in camp, a clear contrast to the annoying perfection of Rawlins, who pecked and hovered over the whole staff.

  "Colonel, have we heard anything from General Burnside?"

  Porter shook his head.

  "No, Sir, not since early this morning. He should be at the river crossings by now."

  Grant looked out toward the river.

  "Yes, he should be." Grant pulled out a cigar, lit it.

  Porter said, "Sir, should we send someone... Grant stared again toward the river.

  "Yes, Colonel, send another message. Tell General Burnside we are still waiting for him to arrive." He turned, the low roar of guns still rolling out of the trees far below.

  "You hear that, Colonel? The party has begun. We are in the wrong place. I do not intend to spend my day sitting here waiting for General Burnside." He puffed several times on the cigar. Smoke rolled around him, drifting away in a gray cloud. He gripped the cigar hard in his mouth, said in a low voice to himself, "This is ridiculous."

  Porter leaned forward, said, "Sir?" Grant looked at him now, said, "I have discovered something, Mr. Porter. The general-in-chief apparently is supposed to sit back and wait for people to tell him what is going on. I don't know what is going on.

  He looked around, saw his horse, held by a groom, began to move that way, stopped, said to Porter, "Colonel, send word to General Burnside that I expect him to join this army at his earliest opportunity. We... are going to see just what General Meade is up to."

  The staff had moved closer, heard his words, and men began to climb on their horses. Grant took the leather straps from the groom, climbed up as well, moved the horse Into the road. The flags appeared, moved into line behind him, and he turned, saw Rawlins now, scrambling to his horse, and Rawlins seemed annoyed, always seemed annoyed, pulled away from some important task.

  Grant said, "Colonel Rawlins, give the order. Advance.. There were hoofbeats, and down the road a man came up fast. Grant saw a courier, tried to recall the man's name, thought, Sedgwick's man... Hyde... Colonel Hyde.

  Hyde saluted, pulled out a paper, said, "General Grant, General Meade wishes me to report, Sir...... Hyde paused, read from the paper, "The enemy is advancing on the turnpike, and I have ordered General Warren to advance the Fifth Corps and meet him. General Sedgwick has dispatched Getty's division down to the Plank Road to confront another column of the enemy's advance. General Hancock is expected to support General Getty." Hyde stopped, looked at Grant, said, "Sir, we have a fight. The enemy is not at Pine Run as we supposed."

  Grant moved the cigar in his mouth, and there was a silent moment. The musket fire was flowing up toward them now in one steady mass. Grant said, "No, Colonel, it seems General Lee was not content to watch us parade by. But if he wants a fight, then we will give him one.

  HE SAW MEADE, THE WIDE HAT FLOATING ABOVE THE HEADS OF the staff, men moving in all directions, Meade's sharp voice blowing across the open yard of the Lacy house. Grant climbed down from the horse, and Meade saw him, moved quickly, said, "General Grant, it seems certain that despite anything we may have been told, the enemy wishes us to fight on this ground!"

  Grant tossed the spent nub of a cigar aside,
reached into his Pocket, felt for another, thought, We have not been told much of anything. He moved past Meade, looked around the open field, looked to Rawlins, said, "Right here, Colonel. I will make headquarters close to "General Meade."

  The staff began to move, the wagons coming forward into the yard. Meade said nothing, stared grimly at Grant as Grant moved by him. Grant moved to a freshly cut tree stump, sat down, lit the cigar.

  Meade motioned to an aide, and a chair was brought forward. Now an aid came forward with a map, and Meade opened it, spread it on the ground, sat heavily in the chair, said, "Sir, we are engaged on two fronts. Up here, the turnpike, Warren has been ordered to press the attack. He is pushing the enemy back to his entrenchments... as best as we can tell." Grant looked up at Meade, but Meade did not look at him, pointed again at the map.

  "Down below, the Plank Road, Hancock's corps is being brought back up to reinforce Getty...

  Grant said, "Brought back up? From where?" Meade looked at him now, took a deep breath.

 

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