'Then I should have realized it was impossible.' 'Sir, how? The only way to confirm the impossibility was to attempt it. If we had not attacked at all, what would we
have then thought? It would have haunted us, the thought that we might have been able to take it. It would have undermined morale. What would all have said across the South if we had not tried?'
'A terrible confirmation, General,' Lee sighed. 'Eight thousand or more dead, wounded, or captured. I might as well strike the divisions of Pettigrew and Perrin off the roster. After the losses suffered at Gettysburg and Union Mills, and now this, they are fought out.'
Longstreet nodded in agreement. The two divisions, since July 1, had sustained over eighty per cent casualties. All of the original brigade commanders, except for Scales, were dead or wounded. All but three of the regimental commanders were down as well. As fighting units, the two divisions were finished. They would have to be pulled from the order of battle, rested, consolidated, and reorganized.
The two walked back toward the grove that had been his headquarters for the last two days. With the truce, the enemy had stopped shelling the position, but when morning arrived Lee would have to move. As they approached the roughly fashioned bridge of logs and barn siding, the two stepped aside as a convoy of a dozen ambulances passed. The shrieks and groans of the wounded within cut to Lee's soul and he stood with hat off as they passed, in the darkness no one recognizing him.
The grove was illuminated by several dozen lanterns, officers and staff standing silent. There was no frolicking this evening, no banter or music. All were silent. All were oppressed by the cost of this day's fighting and the friends dead and dying. At his approach whispered commands echoed, men coming to attention, some taking off their hats, others saluting.
He looked around at the gathering he had called- Longstreet, who was already at his side, Hood, arm in a sling from a rifle ball that had nicked his shoulder, Stuart, Walter Taylor, Jed Hotchkiss the cartographer, Scales as the senior surviving officer of the first two assault waves. Staff retreated to a respectful distance as Lee stepped under the overhanging tarpaulin and sat down in front of the rough-hewn table that had been dragged over from a nearby house.
'A terrible day, gentlemen,' he opened without fanfare.
No one spoke.
'I take full responsibility for what happened here today.' 'General, we all must take responsibility for it,' Hood interjected.
'I will hear no more on that, General Hood. I ordered the attack, it was my decision and mine alone.'
He held his hand up for silence and Hood lowered his head.
Yet Hood was right to a certain degree. It was his first attack as a corps commander. The assault waves should have been better coordinated, sent in directly one after another. The attack had kicked off an hour late, the second wave going in late as well.
Hood should have informed him of that confusion before the attack commenced. But oh the other side of the ledger it was a night attack, something the Army of Northern Virginia had never before attempted, except after already being committed to action at Chancellorsville, and that was against a beaten foe … and in the confusion that action had cost him Jackson. The single road up was indeed a quagmire; the fog and friction of war were at play. He should have sensed that, made closer watch on the preparations, but he knew that he, too, had been exhausted and in his exhaustion had trusted the judgment of those beneath him.
That was his responsibility and his alone.
'There was no alternative,' Pete said even as he puffed a cigar to light 'We had to try and strike before reinforcements came in. The men that counterattacked us in the final assault were veteran units pulled all the way up from Charleston. We knew they were coming and had to attack before they arrived. If they are moving the entire besieging force up from there, that could mean twenty thousand additional men are now in the city or will be within the next few days. General Lee, that is why you had to attack today, and not tomorrow. Today was our only hope of taking the city by a coup de main.'
'Is it true there was a regiment of niggers with them?' Stuart asked.
Lee looked up at him sharply. 'You know I don't like that word, General.'
'I'm sorry, sir. Colored then.'
'I saw them,' Hood interjected. 'It must be that regiment from Massachusetts. Now we must deal with that as well.'
'If we take any of them prisoners,' Lee said softly, 'they are to be treated like any other soldiers. I want that clearly understood. I disagree with General Beauregard's statements and that of our government that they will be sold as slaves and their officers executed. I will not have that in my army and I want that clearly understood by all.'
No one spoke.
'We drift from our topic, gentlemen,' Lee announced. 'And that is to decide our course of action.'
He looked at the men gathered at the table.
'Two of our divisions are no longer fit for service, at least for a fortnight or more. What is left of Anderson's division is still in Virginia, escorting prisoners back. In our remaining six divisions of infantry I would estimate that we have barely thirty thousand men under arms.'
He looked at Taylor, who sadly nodded in agreement.
'That does not include artillery and cavalry, sir,' Stuart said.
'No, of course not, General Stuart, but when it comes to siege operations and assault, it is infantry we need.' No one replied.
'It is safe to assume that their garrison in Washington, now receiving yet more reinforcements, numbers at least thirty thousand, perhaps as many as forty thousand by tomorrow. Their heavy artillery, well, we saw what but three forts defended with heavy artillery can do to our men out in the open.'
'Are you saying, sir, that the hope of taking Washington is finished?' Stuart asked.
'Do you see any alternative, sir?'
'They are still strung out defending thirty miles of front, sir. We can maneuver, feign, probe. Sooner or later, we'll find the weak spot and push in.'
'That will take days, maybe weeks,' Longstreet replied, 'and every day means yet more men in their garrison to repulse us. They have the interior lines. Even if we did break through, they can muster a force sufficient to face us at the edge of the city or inside of it.
'I must say this now, sir,' Longstreet continued. 'Our army, unfortunately, is not an army that can fight a siege, or take a city the size of Washington; we are a field army that survives by maneuver, surprise, and agility. That other type of warfare fits our enemy, with their limitless numbers.'
He sighed. 'It doesn't fit us and never will.'
'Then you believed we would not take that city?' Lee asked.
Longstreet hesitated, then finally nodded his head. 'I didn't think we could take it if they were prepared to fight block by block and house by house.'
'I wish I had heard that from you yesterday, General, or a week ago before we even marched down from Westminster.'
Longstreet could sense the rebuke and his features reddened.
'We had to try, sir. After all, their army might have lost enough morale after their shattering defeat at Union Mills. The green troops in the forts might have broken down. The reinforcements might have come a day later. We had to try, General Lee. Maybe it was a forlorn hope, maybe not. But we had to try. Everyone, our men, the government, the people of the South, expected it and therefore we had to try.'
Placated, Lee nodded and leaned back in the camp chair.
History would have expected it, he realized. After the triumph at Gettysburg and Union Mills history itself would have expected him to march on Washington and take it. He had to have tried.
The dream of taking Washington had been the goal ever since the start of this campaign, the thought that with the final defeat of the Army of the Potomac, Washington would fall and then it would be over. Was that itself an illusion?
If so, what now? Was everything this campaign was predicated upon an illusion? Was there nothing that could force the North to negotiate a peace?
Walter stepped away from the group for a moment and returned with a tin cup brimming with coffee. Lee
