The Killer Angels - Michael Shaara [126]
A great weight to put upon him. But nothing else to do. Alexander saluted, moved off. Here came Sorrel, bringing with him, on horseback, Generals Pettigrew and Trimble. Longstreet greeted them, sent for Pickett. He got down from his horse and walked over to the open space on the ground where the staff had spread the camp stools, and asked for coffee. They sat in a circle, lesser officers at a distance, almost in files, by rank. Longstreet wore the expressionless face, drank the coffee, said nothing at all, looked at them.
Johnston Pettigrew: handsome, fine-featured. An intellectual. Very few intellectuals in this army. He had attended the University of North Carolina and they talked of his grades there with reverence and awe. Curious thing, Longstreet thought. He smiled slightly. Here’s our intellectual, Pettigrew, going into battle side by side with old Pickett, last in his class. He chuckled. The men were watching him, sensing his mood. They seemed happy to see him grin. Longstreet looked at Pettigrew.
“They tell me you’ve written a book.”
“Sir? Oh, yes, sir.” Firm sound to the voice, clear calm eye. Lee thinks the world of him. He will do all right.
“What was it about?”
“Oh, it was only a minor work, sir.”
“I’ll have to read it.”
“You will have a copy, sir, with my compliments.” To Longstreet’s surprise, Pettigrew rose, summoned an aide, dispatched the man for the book.
Longstreet grinned again. He said, “General, I doubt if I’ll have time today.”
“At your leisure, sir.” Pettigrew bowed formally.
Longstreet looked at Isaac Trimble. He was breathing hard, face red and puffy, a bewildered look to him. He had a reputation as a fire-breather. He did not look like it. His beard was fully white, his hair puffed and frizzled. Well, Longstreet thought, we shall see.
Pickett came up, joined the circle. Introductions were unnecessary. Longstreet ordered coffee all around, but Trimble would not take any; his stomach was troubling him. Sorrel was the only other officer to hear the orders. Longstreet explained it all slowly, watching them. Pickett was excited, could not sit still, sat rubbing his thighs with both hands, nodding, patting himself on the knees. Pettigrew was calm and pale and still. Trimble breathed deeply, rubbed his nose. His face grew more and more crimson. Longstreet began to understand that the old man was deeply moved. When he was done with the orders Longstreet drew the alignment in the dirt:
They all understood. Then Longstreet rose and walked out to the edge of the trees, out into the open, for a look at the Union line. He pointed to the clump of trees. There were a few minor questions. Longstreet told them to keep that clump in sight as they moved back to their troops, to make sure that there was no confusion. The attack would guide on Pickett. More minor questions, then silence. They stood together, the four men, looking up at the Union line. The mist had burned away; there were a few clouds, a slight haze. Hill’s guns had stopped; there was a general silence.
Longstreet said, “Gentlemen, the fate of your country rests on this attack.”
All eyes were on his face. He put out his hand.
“Gentlemen, return to your troops.”
Pettigrew took his hand. “Sir, I want to say, it is an honor to serve under your command.”
He moved off. Trimble took the hand. He was crying. He said huskily, tears all down the red glistening cheeks, “I want to thank you, sir, for the opportunity you have given me, sir, to serve here. I have prayed, sir.” He stopped, choked. Longstreet pressed his hand. Trimble said, “I will take that wall, sir.”
Pickett stayed. Longstreet said, “George, can you take that hill?”
Pickett grinned. My curly boy. He rushed off, hair flying. Here was Alexander, galloping up through the trees, exasperated.
“Sir, General Hill’s artillery is dueling the Union people for some damned barn, sir, excuse me, but it’s a tragic waste of ammunition. We don’t have a limitless supply.”
Longstreet said, “Give General Hill my compliments and tell him I suggest he reserve his ammunition for the assault.