Gettysburg

learned that at Malvern Hill. They learned it at Fredericksburg. You have a good eye for ground, General. This position is perfect, and that is why they will never attack us if we dig in here. It's too perfect'

'He'll be under pressure from Washington though.'

'And we're under a different pressure, General. We can't dig in and wait. Supplies will have to move up through that single road we just traversed. Three, four days and this countryside will be stripped clean of food, and then we'll have to either attack him or pull back.

'No, sir,' Lee continued. 'Meade will see us dug in here, and he'll wait us out. Then we will have to withdraw, and we will have gamed nothing, sir, nothing.' He slapped his thigh as he spoke.

'General Longstreet, we cannot continue to fight indecisive battles. Down that road lies defeat. Vicksburg is in trouble; that was part of our reason for coming up north, to try and divert forces away from the fighting in the West Our own Army of Northern Virginia will never be stronger than it is this week.

'I want this war to end. What will another Fredericksburg give us? Twenty thousand of their men casualties, five to ten thousand of ours, and the slaughter will have given us nothing. Another battle like that just wears us down a little bit more, and they will continue to get stronger in spite of their losses. They can replace their losses in a month; we no longer can.

'We will not end the war fighting defensively in this place, not here. The enemy is up that road, General. General Heth has met them. You saw the map. We know that two of our divisions, Early and Rodes, are coming down on Gettysburg from the north and northeast. We are coming in from the west I think, sir, we just might have them. Push in hard, and if God wills it we can catch part of their army and annihilate it before the rest comes up.

'Our job is to find the right place and shatter the Union army. We have to win a victory so decisive that the North's will to fight will be shaken, and they will agree to a truce. Any victory less than that will ultimately be a strategic defeat. We have had two years of bloody, indecisive fighting. Now is the time for that decision, and down that road toward Gettysburg is where we are going to force it'

'What about Stuart?'

'He'll be found today.'

'I hope so.'

A rolling thunder, clearly audible now, washed over them, and both looked back to the east

'General Longstreet you are now my right arm. I ask you to understand that I could always count on you in the defense; you demonstrated that at Sharpsburg and Fredericksburg. I need more from you now, General, much more. I need your voice of caution, but I need you to see the opportunity for attack, for audacity.'

'I am not Jackson,' Longstreet replied coldly.

Lee could sense that he had injured his lieutenant's pride. Jackson had been the darling of the Richmond newspapers, and dead he had been immortalized into an icon that it was impossible to compete against

'No, nor am I asking that. We have an opportunity here. I want this action pushed, and I am counting on you to see that it is done.'

Pete looked back, almost longingly, at the hills he had hoped to dig in on.

'General,' Lee asked softly, 'if you were Meade, would you attack us here?'

Pete did something that was a rare sight He smiled and then shook his head. 'No, sir. Not here. The ground is too good.'

Lee smiled and, turning Traveler, trotted back up the hill to where the staff waited expectantly. Taylor came forward, grinning, holding up a dispatch.

'It's from Stuart' Taylor announced triumphally. 'One of the couriers you ordered sent out yesterday morning just reported back in. Stuart was riding toward Carlisle. He is turning about He'll be here by this evening, and his lead brigade should be in by midnight'

Lee felt a wave of relief. The decision of several nights back to aggressively seek Stuart to take more direct control, was bearing fruit He looked over at Longstreet who nodded, as if the final point had been won.

'Colonel Taylor, it's obvious that battle has been joined, not where we planned, but Providence has ruled differently. Pass the order to all division and corps commanders. Press the action toward Gettysburg and seize the high ground overlooking the town.'

He could sense the ripple of excitement sweep through his staff. He nudged Traveler and then turned to look back. 'Be certain to return the table and chairs to their proper place, Walter.'

Returning to the road, he turned east heading toward Gettysburg.

1:30 PM, JULY I, 1863

TANEYTOWN, MARYLAND

FIELD HEADQUARTERS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC

Breathing hard, Henry Hunt climbed the last steps up onto the widow's walk of the Antrim, a mansion at the edge of Taneytown. Meade, with

Hooker's old chief of staff, Gen. Dan Butterfield, was leaning on the railing, attention focused to the north.

Henry didn't need to be told where to look. Smoke was boiling up from Gettysburg, ten miles away. Uncasing his field glasses, he leaned against the railing and focused. The church spires of the town were clearly visible, the smoke just to the west A dull rumble was echoing down, thumping, building, then drifting off.

The day was becoming hot the morning scattering of showers giving way to a dull sky, not quite clear, not quite hazy, the type of weather that could clear or brew up into an afternoon of fierce storms. The air was heavy, humid, and oppressive.

Turning his field glasses to the west, he clearly saw the Catholic school and convent over at Emmitsburg. Dust was swirling up from me road in front of the school.

'Whose men are those over there?' he asked, looking to one of Meade's staff, who were all silently clustered to either side of the general.

'Dan Sickles's Third Corps.'

'Are they moving up?'

'The Eleventh Corps is on the same road and should be in Gettysburg by now,' Butterfield announced, not looking back, attention still focused to the north. 'We're holding Dan in place for the moment, waiting to see what develops.'

Henry nodded and said nothing. He had fairly well memorized the maps of the region over the last couple of days. It was clear that Lee was coming over the South Mountain Range, but was the main thrust toward Gettysburg or was that a diversion and would he hit toward Emmitsburg instead?

He knew the answer without even having to ask it Lee would move on Gettysburg. It was a better road connection, allowing him to thrust in nearly any direction. Holding Sickles in reserve at Emmitsburg might be prudent in order to cover the left flank, but Henry sensed it was a waste. Push toward the sound of the guns.

'You hear about Reynolds?' Butterfield asked, turning back at last to look at Henry.

'John Reynolds, First Corps?' He felt a sudden tightness. The old professional army was small, and with every action the rank of comrades thinned.

'Word just came in. Killed a couple of hours ago.'

'Damn.'

John had always led from the front; it was only a matter of time. He had been Commandant of Cadets at West Point and many an officer in the army today had first served under him there and worshipped him. Everyone believed John was destined for greatness and that corps command was simply a stepping-stone. It had been, right into a grave.

Henry looked at Meade, who was still hunched over the railing, field glasses trained on the hills to the north. It was Reynolds who was supposed to be commanding this army now. That's who they had really wanted back in Washington. For once the politicians had been right Meade was good, but John would have been better, a mind perhaps capable of matching Lee's.

But John was dead. He lowered his head, turned, and moved to the other side of the widow's walk, leaning over the side, looking down. Couriers, staff, cavalry escort waited in the open yard below. Dust stirred from farther south and east; columns of troops coming up, Fifth Corps and Second Corps, strung out along twenty miles of road.