Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [99]
Johnston looked up, did not stand, and Lee felt the tension, the dense air of trouble. He saw Gustavus Smith, nodded, and Smith made a quick unsmiling acknowledgment. There was a third man, General Whiting, another Johnston favorite, another quick nod. There had been no talking, and Lee sensed he had not caused an interruption. The men sat apart, did not face each other.
Lee broke the silence. “General, have you heard the firing?”
Johnston looked up, and Lee saw nothing in the eyes, a cold stillness. He made a quick wave with his hand. “Some artillery. Nothing to be concerned about.”
Surely he has heard the muskets, Lee thought. He saw an empty chair, sat down, and still no one spoke, no attempt at conversation. Lee waited, had not expected this kind of reception. He studied Johnston, who did not look at him, did not look at anything, sat staring at the floor.
From outside there was the sound of a horse, a shout, and through the house came a burst of noise, a courier, who stopped in the doorway and began a frantic recital of his message: “General, sir, General Longstreet offers his compliments and wishes to report that he is engaged with the enemy and is moving them back. He requests with some urgency that the general provide support on his left flank.”
Johnston rose, passed quickly by Lee and was gone, then the others were up, and Lee heard Johnston call to his staff. There was a flurry of activity, men running for horses, and in a few seconds Lee was alone. He still had no idea what was going on.
He walked outside, found Marshall watching the men leave, and then from up the road, from the west, the road to Richmond, he saw a group of men and a familiar rider. It was President Davis, who rode closer, spotted Lee and smiled; in a good mood, Lee saw, which was strange.
“Well, General, I see you have also decided to use the direct approach with Joe Johnston. Have you learned what is happening? I hear musket fire.”
Lee could still see Johnston in the distance, and Johnston looked back, then spurred his horse and rounded a bend, out of sight.
“Mr. President, it appears that General Johnston has a full schedule today. He did not take the time to reveal his plans.”
“Yes, well, I know he saw me, I watched him leave. I suppose we have no choice but to follow along. Would you please accompany me, General?”
The men rode down a muddy road through thick woods. Troops were moving up on all sides, and Lee saw the flags, the units from Hood’s brigade. He looked about, hoped to see their commander, but the woods were too thick, and Lee knew it would not be a good time for conversation. From straight down the road came a sudden burst of musket fire, and in the distance smoke began to rise.
Davis pointed, said, “That’s Fair Oaks.”
Now cannon fire began to slice the air, heavy thunder poured toward them, and Lee knew the sound: Federal guns.
They rode forward, staying on the road, then came to a wide-open field filled with lines of moving men. To their front the woods turned thick again, and they watched the lines move forward, disappearing into the thick mass. Smoke began to fill the open spaces, and Lee heard units coming together, men screaming in confusion, officers trying to direct the lines, and he knew this was not good, there was no order.
After a few minutes men began to pile out of the woods, filling the road. Lee saw a flag: Texas, more of Hood’s men. The firing had moved away now, farther down the road. Lee saw an officer, a colonel, and yelled to him, “What are your orders?”
The man rode closer, saw Davis, saluted and shouted back, “We cannot locate General Longstreet’s flank, it is too thick. I’m trying . . . the men cannot fight through these woods!” The man saluted again, rode