Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [209]
Couch climbed up on his horse, and his staff moved in behind. Without speaking, he turned and rode away.
It was nearly dark, and Hancock climbed on his own horse, moved slowly across the yard, nodded at familiar faces. He moved out onto the road, felt completely drained now, like waking up from a long and deep sleep, rising slowly out of a horrible nightmare, but now there was no relief, no feeling that it was over, only the same heavy dread that they had done this before, the utterly foolish mistakes, and if the leaders had not learned, certainly the soldiers had—that these mistakes would always turn into bloody disasters.
46. JACKSON
Friday, May 1, 1863
HE REACHED the intersection, looked down both roads. Troops were everywhere, small fires and stacks of arms. He did not yet see Lee. He pushed the horse along, and the men saw him now, hats went up, and the subdued cheers. They were, after all, a tired army, a stiff march and a good sharp fight, and Jackson tried to see the faces, the men who had done their duty. He glanced upward, raised a hand, said a silent prayer, We do all we can to please You, and he felt a calm satisfaction, knew God would be pleased by such a day as this.
He had thought it too easy, the heavy columns of Federal troops pulling away, giving him the field, abandoning the fine, long ridge from where the guns could find the long range. Now his own three divisions were in place, alongside Anderson and McLaws, and he knew that with this army, no one could stand in their way, that Hooker must know that as well and would pull away, completely, back across the river. He nodded silently, pulled a lemon from his pocket. Yes, you had best be gone tomorrow or we will give you the bayonet.
He stopped the horse, looked around through a small grove of pines, saw more troops, watching him, and now he saw Lee, riding slowly through the grove, heard the new cheers from his men. Lee dismounted, raised a hand, a warm greeting, and Jackson pulled the horse off the road, into the grove.
Lee’s staff was arranging something to sit on, old wooden boxes marked U.S. ARMY, and three boxes were placed together, two chairs and a table. They were near a fire, and a dim glow spread over the flat wood. Lee moved toward one of the boxes and sat down.
Behind him, Jackson’s aides had moved up, closer, and someone took the reins from his hand. He walked on soft ground toward the fire, tossed the flattened lemon aside, sat down on the other “chair,” watched Lee from under the short bill of the old cadet cap.
Lee removed his hat, ran a stiff hand through gray hair, glanced toward the fire, and Jackson saw the old face in the firelight, heavy, tired eyes. Lee said, “Fine work, today, General. We were in a difficult situation. It could have been very different.”
Jackson did not respond, absorbed the words, was not sure what Lee meant. He leaned forward, put his hands out on the box between them, as though holding it down in place, said, “We pushed them hard, and they ran away. There was nothing difficult about it.”
Lee looked at him, hid a smile. “General, from what we have observed . . . there are nearly seventy thousand Federal troops beyond those trees, digging in around Chancellorsville. Sedgwick has nearly forty thousand spread out along this side of the river in front of General Early. There are possibly thirty thousand more back along the river, north of here, that we have not yet located. I give you credit for a fine day’s work, General. But we are not in a position of strength here. We owe a great deal to the unexplainable, to the mystery of General Hooker. He has allowed us to maneuver freely between two parts of an army that is more than twice our strength. I am concerned, General, that we do not yet understand his plan.”
Jackson leaned back, looked at Lee again from under the cap. “He has no plan. He is waiting for us to take the fight to him. He is, right now, digging trenches, building