Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [205]
There had been no word from either of the other advance columns. The terrain made it impossible for communication, but there were no sounds, not yet, no deep thunder of the battle, and so they would press on.
Sykes’s lines did not slow, pushed the rebel skirmishers back up the long hill, and Hancock still rode forward, past more troops. He saw Sykes now, a cluster of blue uniforms, and Sykes was directing his officers, spreading the companies out across the road.
Sykes saw Hancock, raised a hand, said, “Ah, good morning . . . good day, General. All is well so far. We seem to have awakened a few rebels. No matter, they’ve scattered away.”
“A skirmish line, General?”
“Barely. They didn’t really try to slow us down, just took a shot and moved out. Probably a scouting party. Any word from the rear?”
“Not yet. I expect General Couch to return soon. Have you heard anything—”
“From Meade? No, and nothing down below us either. Looks like easy going, General.”
Hancock focused on the far woods, tried to hear . . . something. Sykes’s men began to file back into the road, reforming the column, and now they were moving again, up the long hill.
Sykes was waving to more officers, directing them forward, and he said to Hancock, “If you can, General, ride with me. Your men are close behind, stay in front for a bit. We should break out of this infernal thicket just beyond that hill, give us a little room to move. Should be able to see Slocum’s lines, down to the right. How does it feel?”
“Feel?” Hancock shook his head, didn’t understand.
“Knowing you’re running right up the back of Robert E. Lee? We may have him this time . . . finally have him. I always thought it would have been McClellan, we would have done this, ended this with Mac. Never figured Joe Hooker to be the one.”
Hancock nodded, said nothing. Maybe it was true. If Lee felt the threat from in front, from Sedgwick, and then felt the greater force coming in behind him . . . he might simply be gone, pulled out. With his smaller numbers, he thought, it might be the smart move to withdraw south of Fredericksburg, dig in closer to Richmond, make Hooker bring the Federal Army to him. And we will have gained . . . what? he wondered. Ground? But maybe more important, Hooker will have driven Lee back, and once that begins, we may be able to keep driving him back. He is outmanned, outgunned, outsupplied. And maybe today he was outmaneuvered.
Hancock began to feel some excitement, thought, Yes, it is working, the quick march, dividing the army. He looked at Sykes, who was focused to the front, to the moving line of troops.
“Yes, General, press on! My men are anxious to see the backs of Lee’s army!” He felt foolish saying it, the kind of mindless boasting heard so often around the camps, around the headquarters of bad commanders.
Sykes looked at him, smiled. “Yes, and don’t forget that Stonewall. Let’s see how fast he can run!”
There was more firing now, a rolling wave of muskets, and toward the front of the line the men were spreading out again. Sykes began to ride, moving forward, and Hancock followed, sped the horse closer. Now they could see the crest of the hill. Spread on both sides of the road, out through a narrow clearing in the deep brush, was a solid gray line, and the muskets began again, fresh and regular volleys, and Sykes was yelling, directing the men. Hancock saw that this was not a skirmish line, Lee had come out to meet them, was waiting for them. He stared ahead for a moment, then turned the horse, rode back down the hill toward the front of his division. His staff was there, waiting, expectant faces, and he thought of the ridiculous conversation with Sykes, the arrogant notion