Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [94]
He stumbled, followed the shouts of the men in front of him, was not sure of distance, how far he had come. Then the smoke gave way, the shooting slowed, then stopped, and he was climbing another wall, a low, thick hill of dirt. In front of him his men were pushing on, through the new fortifications, and now he saw the first bodies, men in gray and brown uniforms, those who did not escape the assault. He did not wait, ran over the tops of the earthworks, reached the far side, saw his men ready to climb out, to press on, and he waved them back, no, not yet.
He saw the rebels moving away, no more than a hundred men, and he realized they had pushed back only a small outpost, an isolated unit. He looked toward Fort Magruder again and the heavy sounds of battle, and saw nothing to their front, nothing to stop them from pushing on, into the side of the Confederate position.
He turned, looked back toward the distant dam, said out loud, to the reinforcements that were not yet there, “Come on, dammit!”
Then he saw a horseman, a man riding on the dam, a tricky move, and the man came forward, a different face, not his courier, and he began to walk back through his gathered troops.
The courier saw him, dismounted, and climbed the wide dirt wall. “General, sir. General Sumner orders you to withdraw from your position. You are in a tenuous spot, General. You are ordered to withdraw back to General Smith’s lines . . . back there. You are too far in advance, sir.”
Hancock stared at the man, disbelieving. He saw the snotty confidence of the untested staff officer, the smug arrogance of a man with a big message and no responsibility for it, and he moved closer to the man, leaned hard into the man’s face.
“Listen, son. You go back and you tell General Sumner . . .” He paused, felt the anger screaming in his ears, and the man’s face changed, the arrogance turned to fear. Hancock was surprised, and a voice in his head said, No, careful, be careful. He turned away, looked for another courier, saw his aides now, gathering around, and no one was talking, they were all watching him. He pointed at one, the young Lieutenant Crane, motioned him closer.
Crane moved up, saluted, and Hancock took a slow, deep breath, loosened the tightness in his jaw, said, “Lieutenant, you will take a message to General Sumner. You will inform the general that we are on the open flank of the enemy, and that reinforcements have already been requested from General Smith. You tell General Sumner that I do not understand his . . . order for withdrawing these troops. I would like it made clear. Do you understand, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir. Perfectly,” and the man was off, ran to a waiting horse and rode quickly away.
Sumner’s man watched Hancock warily, like a trainer watching an angry lion, and Hancock ignored him, moved forward, toward the eyes of his men, stepped through the earthworks and climbed up, studied the heavy Confederate lines, still in place, through his glasses. The battle had begun to slow, the volleys were irregular, but the sounds still came from in front of the fort, no big push either way: it had been a stalemate. He thought, It won’t be a stalemate if we hit them from here. But he knew Longstreet would react, his presence was known by now. He looked at his watch, nearly three o’clock. Plenty of time . . . if Smith would just come.
“Sir, a rider!”
He looked around, saw a horseman coming through the thick swampy grass, a different man, not one of his, and the man dismounted, ran in a crouch over the earthworks, hearing a battle that wasn’t there.
“General Hancock, sir, General Smith regrets to inform you that he has been ordered by General Sumner not to send any troops to your position. General Smith understands that you have been ordered to withdraw. General Smith is of the opinion . . . sir . . . that you may withdraw at your convenience, sir. At a time you see as best, within the limits of General Sumner’s order.” The