Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [199]
The army was spreading below the river quickly, moving down the roads toward the hub of the wheel, the intersection of Chancellorsville. Hancock’s division was now the First, still a part of Couch’s Second Corps, and in the new organization of the army, Couch was an informal second in command to Hooker. Hancock felt some comfort in that, some sense that at least Couch would be there, would hear it all and have his say, and surely, surely, they would not stumble into another bloody disaster.
They marched south, left the river, and the road led them through a thick and dense woods. Couch rode beside him, and they led the column, trailed by the staffs and Sam Zook’s brigade.
“This is rather like Florida.”
Couch looked toward Hancock’s gesture, said, “Really? I would imagine Florida to be more . . . green.”
“Green, yes. And thick, impossible to see. Down there, it was palmettos, and some kind of damned thick sticker bush, something called catclaw. This looks about as bad—you can’t see anything.”
Couch looked toward the other side of the road, saw more of the same, said, “It’s called the Wilderness. I heard it wasn’t always like this, but the big trees were all cut—there’s some ironworks around here, use a lot of wood fuel, and after the trees were cut, the woods just grew up thick like this, bushes, scrub trees. Maybe in a few years the bigger trees will come back.”
“A few years . . . don’t expect we’ll see much of this country in a few years. Hope not. I’d rather be back in Pennsylvania, looking at green grass.”
Couch smiled, nodded. Hancock was still staring into the brush, said, “We going to move out of this stuff soon? No place for a fight.”
“Our orders are to advance to Chancellorsville, then turn east, toward Fredericksburg. The ground clears away once we move east a bit. If we’ve done as well as the reports say, we’ll have an easy march well beyond the Wilderness before we run into Lee. Last I heard, he still hadn’t moved away from the hills.” He paused. “This may actually work.”
Hancock did not answer, thought, I’ve heard that before.
There were shouts to the front, calls from the pickets, and from around a curve a rider appeared, a courier. The man sat straight in the saddle, pulled his horse up and turned with expert precision, a good show for the generals. He was smiling through a short clipped beard, waited for some acknowledgment, and both men looked at him, said nothing.
The man finally spoke. “General Couch, sir! It is a pleasure to see you this fine day. Your corps is moving with great speed, I must say! And General Hancock, you are looking fit and well.”
Couch looked at Hancock, said, “Do you know this man?”
Hancock shook his head, suddenly had no patience for the overdone show of good cheer.
The man said, as though of course they would recall, “Lieutenant Colonel Earle, sir, General Slocum’s adjutant.”
“What can we do for you, Colonel?”
Earle pulled his horse up alongside Couch, said with the smugness of a man close to it all, who knows much, “General Slocum sends his regards, and wishes you to know that his Twelfth Corps, and the Fifth Corps of General Meade, are encamped around the Chancellor house and await your arrival, so they may begin the assault.”
“Await our arrival? Why?”
“General Hooker’s orders, sir. The army is to assemble into one grand force, to strike the fatal blow into the rebels!”
Hancock felt his stomach twist. Couch said, “Why have they not moved forward . . . is there any opposition to the east? Where is Hooker?”
The colonel’s expression began to change. Couch