Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [146]
“Well, then, sir, if I may suggest . . . it is possible that General Lee is moving this way. Certainly he is aware of our intentions. If we were able to occupy the town, it would make our job much easier when the bridges do arrive, sir.”
Sumner grunted, and Hancock looked at the old face, and there was still no expression. Burnside said, “General, that’s a bit risky, I’m afraid. Those men could be cut off. This weather . . . the river is already rising a bit. It will be best, I assure you, if we wait until the entire army can proceed across. I am not worried about General Lee. He will not move against such a large and formidable force as we have here.” He paused, laughed, pleased with himself. “I do not share General McClellan’s tendency to inflate the enemy’s strengths. We have General Lee just where we want him.”
Hancock said nothing, looked again at Sumner, who was staring at Burnside with a look that said they had already had this conversation. Beside him, Couch began to shuffle, and Hancock heard a deep breath come from the small man.
Couch said, “General Burnside, if we cannot cross the river very soon, I am confident that General Lee will make every effort to impede our movement to do so. I feel fairly certain that he will also make great efforts to prevent us from moving toward Richmond. We do not know the disposition of General Jackson’s forces, and we could find them on our flanks if we move on toward Richmond prematurely. It is important, sir, that we make some attempt to gain even a small advantage by occupying the town, and possibly the heights beyond. Allow me, sir, to send at least General Hancock’s division across the river. Surely, they can carry enough supplies with them, and the artillery from this side can protect them from any aggression by Lee—”
Burnside raised his hand, cutting him off, still smiled. “Gentlemen, please, we have beaten this to death. We will cross the river when the bridges arrive, and not before. You must understand, I do not have the luxury of deviating from the larger plan. The President has approved my strategy, and I will stick to it. Once this army is across the river, I assure you, General Lee will have little chance to do any more than nip at our heels as we move down to Richmond. Now, if you please, gentlemen, my presence is required outside.”
Burnside stood, did not wait for salutes, was quickly gone. Sumner leaned back in his chair, rubbed at tired eyes, said, “Someone should tell him he can deviate from any plan he chooses. I’ve already done all the talking I can. This is his operation, and he means to make it work.”
Couch pulled at Hancock’s arm, moved toward the door, said, “Let’s hope, General, that we get those bridges soon.”
Outside, the growing bite of the November wind rolled down the long valley of the river. Behind the hills around the headquarters, great fields of troops built fires from whatever wood they could find, passed the time huddled together in tents, and most now expected they would sit here through the winter, that another opportunity had been missed, and so the work began again on the construction of winter quarters. Far upstream, long miles away, teams of horses pulled lines of heavy wagons, bringing the pontoons down the soft roads toward the army.
The two men walked out from the grand old mansion, down the short steps, and Hancock stopped, stared out across the river, to the hills that lay beyond the peaceful town, the pleasant scene he had admired that morning. We should be over there, on those hills, he thought. Couch was watching him, turned to see where Hancock was focused, and started to say something but let it go and left Hancock alone. Turning away, he moved back to his headquarters.
To the west, far behind the hills, the clouds began to grow darker. Another winter storm was moving toward them, more snow, and Hancock pulled at his coat, saw Couch moving away, down the slope. He thought again of the hotcakes, and began the walk back to his camp.
NOW, BEHIND those hills, behind the peaceful town,