Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [249]
Longstreet nodded, looked at Lee, felt a sudden wave of affection, said, “How are you, sir?”
Lee saw the soft look, the concern, tried not to look away, felt suddenly emotional, weak, thought, No, there has been too much emotion. He stared hard at the papers, said, “The army is well, General. With the return of your divisions, and the confidence of these troops now, we have an opportunity.”
Longstreet let it go, knew that Lee would not reveal much, said, “We have had many opportunities.”
Lee nodded. “Perhaps. Each one is different. And there will not be many more. We cannot continue to win these fights and allow the enemy to escape. We do not have the reserves, the wealth of supply. We cannot continue to fight this war on our own ground, destroying our own land. We have bloodied him and swept him from the field, but there is no victory to be gained by simply pushing him away time and again. He will return, he will always return, with more men and more equipment, and eventually . . . they will find someone, a commander who understands . . . who is capable. They do have many good men. I have been grateful. God has blessed us with their choice of commanders. I have never understood any of the choices . . . not since George McClellan.”
Longstreet said nothing, thought, We have been very very lucky. If it had been Couch . . . or Reynolds . . . or the reckless Sickles . . . He thought of McClellan finding Lee’s orders, the one time Lee’s luck was bad, said, “We tried moving north. . . .”
“It was not the right time. God showed us that. But now . . . if we are to end this war, we must win this war, and I believe it is the only way.”
He stood, straightened stiff legs, stepped around the small desk. Longstreet watched him, and Lee said, “President Davis has agreed . . . we must not only take the fight out of Virginia, but we must take it out of Tennessee and Carolina and Louisiana as well. In Virginia we are winning the battles. Elsewhere, it has not gone as well. The more time that passes, the more we are simply used up, and so, General, we are losing the war, and that will not change unless we take the war . . . unless we strike them right in their heart. We must point our guns straight into Lincoln’s door, and then it will end.”
“Attack Washington? Directly? Sir . . . the fortifications—”
“No, General. We do not have to attack the city. We just have to convince them that we can, that if they do not end this war, we will! Lincoln is already under pressure . . . great pressure. Their own generals hang their heads in public and ask forgiveness as the dead fill their cemeteries. The people have had enough of this. We have paid a terrible price, and so God has opened the door. We must march through it.”
Longstreet stared at him, was surprised at the show of anger, sat quietly for a moment, said, “We can move up, as we did before, Maryland, then Pennsylvania. They will not know where we intend to strike.”
Lee looked at him, waited, had hoped he would finally agree to the plan.
Longstreet thought again, said, “All we need is some luck . . . didn’t have it last time, McClellan learning about the plan . . . but we can push the army fast, good roads, good time of year, move around to the northeast, cut off Washington from Philadelphia . . . New York. Even if they react, move to meet us quickly, we will be on their ground.”
“Yes, General. And the civilians in the North will not stand for that, nor will the politicians.”
Longstreet nodded, and now he glanced toward the opening in the tent, said, “General . . . forgive me, sir, but have you chosen a new commander for the Second Corps?”
Lee moved around the desk, sat again, pushed through the papers, held up one, studied it, said, “It is a difficult situation, General. We have lost so many. I do not believe we have one man who can assume that level of command. This is what I have proposed to President Davis, and it will become official very soon.”
He handed the paper to Longstreet,