Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [204]
Stuart listened hard, stared at Lee. It was plain and clear, and Stuart suddenly felt overwhelmed, felt something rising in him, loud and excited. He smiled again, wanted to put his hands on Lee’s shoulders, show him the affection, but it would not happen, and he tried to hold it in, abruptly made another deep bow, swept the ground with his hat.
“Yes, sir. I will keep you informed, sir.”
Lee nodded, was finished. The words had drained him, and he felt the fog returning in a heavy wave. He turned away from the small fire, moved wearily toward his tent and with a soft voice said, “You are the eyes of this army, General.”
45. HANCOCK
Friday, May 1, 1863
THE FOG had been thick, was now burning away. The men had been up since first light, had formed early and waited in the roads, but there were no orders. Now, finally, the word came from the old mansion and they began to move.
They were to advance eastward on three roads, the two direct routes toward Fredericksburg, the Orange Turnpike and Plank Road, and by a third route, River Road, which left the Wilderness above and moved in a direct northeast line toward Bank’s Ford. Two divisions of Meade’s Fifth Corps had this assignment, with the intended goal of opening up that crossing for Federal troops and creating a more direct line of communication and supply between Hooker’s main force and Sedgwick’s corps below Fredericksburg. Slocum’s Twelfth Corps would advance on Plank Road, to the south, supported by Howard’s Eleventh, and between these two routes, George Sykes’s division of Meade’s corps would lead the way, followed by Couch’s Second Corps, with Hancock in front, close behind Sykes. The Third Corps, led by Dan Sickles, would remain north of Chancellorsville, acting as a general reserve. This advance involved a force of nearly seventy thousand troops.
Hancock rode behind the last of Sykes’s column, watched thin clouds of steam rise out of the thick brush on both sides of the road. The fog had given way to a light rain, but it had been brief, thankfully, had not mired the roads, and now it was clear and warm, and nearly noon.
They would not have far to march before the Wilderness would break, give way to the open fields, precious room to maneuver, to place the cannon where they could actually see their targets . . . if there were any targets.
Couch had been with him earlier, before the march, expecting the quick order to move out, and when the orders did not come, Couch had gone back to see Hooker. Hancock did not know if the orders had finally come because of anything Couch had done, but he knew—all the commanders knew—something was wrong at headquarters. The soldiers still had the high spirit of the day before, knew they had done something important, a quick and successful march by this huge army, and the campsites had been lively places. This morning they had not delayed falling into line, were moving now with the quick step of men who have the sense that this time they had the upper hand, that the fight would be theirs.
The line in front of Hancock began to make a long slow climb toward a slight rise that lifted the ground far out on both sides. He could see the advance now, up in