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By Root 1770 0

draped with dark shapes, every road a solid black line. He saw the cornfields, flattened and spotted with the dark shapes, and then he saw movement, the few men who wandered among them, and he felt sick again, thankful he was not down there, one of them. He wondered what they were doing, what they were thinking, what they were looking for. He stood for a long while, felt the breeze against his face, could still smell the smoke and powder, but not the dead. Not yet, he thought. The sun had dropped below the horizon, a distant line of trees, far behind the army in ragged gray uniforms that was still out there, was still facing them. Now the fields began to darken, the ghastly sight began to fade from his view, and he thought, They did not need us today . . . but the enemy is still out there, and there is still a war. . . . Could we not have helped?

THE FOLLOWING day the two armies faced each other without moving, like two fighters who have beaten each other senseless and don’t know what else to do. McClellan outnumbered Lee’s forces by better than two to one, had been given the best opportunity he would have to end the war, but he waited, again pleading with Washington for more reinforcements.

Lee realized his invasion to the north was no longer feasible, that even though his army had fought to a bloody draw, his smaller forces could not win that kind of war. And so, after bracing for a new attack from McClellan’s army, an attack that never came, he waited until dark, and during the night of September 18 withdrew his badly bruised army back across the Potomac, into Virginia.

26. HANCOCK

September 19, 1862

“SIR THEY’RE, gone.”

It was just light enough to see, a cool morning. Hancock had reached the front lines, had ridden through a fine foggy mist until he saw the green flag.

“They’re gone, General,” Meagher said again. “The lines are empty.”

Hancock did not stop, rode his horse past the shallow trenches, up over the low mound of earth that had protected his men, rode into the open field between the lines. Meagher rode out with him, and they guided their horses carefully, avoiding the scattered black masses, the bodies of the dead. Behind them the officers began to shout and men climbed up from the trenches, began to move out with the commanders, some running farther, to the advance, screening the generals. But there was nothing to screen against. They reached the Confederate lines, saw down long rows of shallow ditches, saw bodies piled out in front of and behind the lines; and in the trenches themselves, broken muskets, pieces of clothing and equipment, and nothing else.

Hancock stared at the empty ground, said aloud, “We let them get away.”

“Aye, General, that we did.”

Meagher moved his horse closer, and the two men sat quietly for a long minute. Finally, Meagher said, “We lost many a good man. Did ya know General Richardson, sir?”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t. I heard he was a fine commander.”

“Maybe . . . A general that gets himself killed isn’t much good to anybody. We had a good fight of it, though, maybe better than some, maybe worse. I will say, beggin’ your pardon, General, we was all pleased when we heard you was takin’ over.”

Hancock nodded, said nothing. He knew the reputation of the Irishmen, knew they had indeed given the good fight. And they will again, he thought, if someone will give them the chance.

Meagher looked at Hancock for a long moment, said, “You know General McClellan, do ya, sir?”

“Yes, I know him. He’s a good friend, opened a mighty big door for me. More than once.”

“Aye. Do ya think we can win this war, General?”

Hancock looked at the heavy, round face and the sharp, honest eyes that hid nothing. “You mean, do I think General McClellan can win this war?”

“Is it not the same question, General? This army wants Mac to lead it, they’ve shown that. And who else can we follow?”

Hancock looked away, did not want to think about it, had felt this way before, the sense that no one was really in command.

“Forgive me for speakin’ freely, General. If you’d rather I’d button it—