'Sir, we are short of horses, transport. I had to strip out an artillery battalion of its horses in order to move the pontoon train. At best we managed to retrieve about a million and a half rounds of small arms ammunition, maybe five thousand artillery rounds, before being forced to set the rest afire.'
'Yes, I saw the fires,' Lee said quietly. 'But why?'
'That's the other bad news, sir. Grierson is at our rear. He came down onto the B and O line late yesterday afternoon with at least two brigades of cavalry. I fear Armistead might be cut off. I've not heard from him since nightfall. Sykes, with a corps strength, has pushed up and is in Urbana.'
'That's less than ten miles from here,' Lee replied.
'Yes, sir, I know.'
Lee looked over at one of Jed Hotchkiss's maps on his field desk.
'Then the only ammunition we have is what our men are carrying, the small reserves at division level, and what you salvaged.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Enough, though, for one good fight if need be,' Lee said, and he forced a smile.
'If required, sir. Yes, sir.'
'The pontoon train. Everything rests on that now.'
'Sir, it's proving difficult. Even on the best of roads they are difficult to move. The going has been slow. I estimate they are five miles back on our line of march.'
Lee sighed, his gaze returning to the map. 'We can still retrieve this situation, General,' he said.
Longstreet did not reply.
'Do you believe me, General Longstreet?'
Pete looked into Lee's eyes. The gaze was intense, filled with determination, and yet again he found he could indeed believe in this man.
'Yes, sir. If we move swiftly and with daring. Yes, I think we can get back across the Potomac.'
'Not just back across the Potomac, General. In the last two months we have dealt repeated blows to the North from which they can ill recover. This one reversal shall not stop us. We hold the line of the Potomac through the winter and into next spring, and surely their political coalition shall collapse.'
Pete did not reply for a moment.
'Do you believe that, sir?' Lee asked, and Pete detected that there was a questioning in Lee's voice, a wish to be reaffirmed in his confidence.
'Sir, the first concern, at the moment, is to get this army safely out of Maryland. Then I will think of other things.'
Lee finally smiled.
'Fair enough.'
Lee pulled Hotchkiss's map over.
'We must move swiftly this day. You take your column, head down toward Poolesville. Then see if there is any chance we can secure Edwards Ferry. I know they are dug in there, but if in your estimate it can be stormed, do so. If not, move parallel to the river and find an appropriate place to cross. I will take the rest of the army and advance toward Damestown and secure our flank in that direction. Grant's forces are worn, but the men coming down on our rear under Sykes must be turned, if possible defeated, and driven back. Succeed in that and we have bought some time.'
Longstreet, looking at the map, nodded in agreement.
'We must move swiftly, sir, and the pontoon train must be pushed forward with all possible haste.'
'Yes, sir.'
Longstreet left the tent and mounted up. He started to ride back in the direction he had come from. Out in the fields the men were breaking camp, some loading up with backpacks or blanket rolls, but many just leaving them behind. They were stripping down for hard marching.
To the east the sun was clear of the horizon, promising a warm and humid day.
Headquarters, Army of the Potomac Near Clarksburg
8:00 A.M.
Sir, who is that man?' one of Sykes's aides asked, pointing up the road behind them. Sykes turned in his saddle. An officer, riding a splendid white mount, was moving along the side of the road at a canter. He was pale- faced, gaunt, and almost seemed drunk the way he was riding, barely able to hang on.
Sykes smiled.
'I know him.'
He turned about, moved to the side of the road, and grinned as the officer approached.
'Colonel Chamberlain, isn't it?' Sykes asked.
Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain saluted and forced a weak smile.
'Yes, sir, it is.'
'My God, sir,' Sykes exclaimed. 'Last I heard you were dead.':
'A premature report,' Chamberlain replied. 'But you were captured?'
'Yes, sir. A friend of mine on the other side arranged my unconditional parole. I was officially exchanged last week and immediately came down to report for duty.'
Sykes looked at him appraisingly. The man was barely able to keep to his saddle.
'I think, sir, you are not yet recovered from your wounds.'
'Sir, may I be the judge of that,' Chamberlain replied. 'I have been following the news. I was with you and the boys of our glorious Fifth Corps at Taneytown, I wish to be with you now. I took a train down to Baltimore yesterday, paid a rather handsome amount for this magnificent horse, and have been trailing you ever since.'
Sykes chuckled and shook his head.
'Such determination cannot be denied, Colonel. I have no posting for you, but you are welcome to join my staff.'
'Thank you, sir, an honor.'
'Fall in with my staff then. We have Bobbie Lee on the run. We are flanking to the east of him, boxing him in. I just received orders from Grant to push toward Clarksburg and then Darnestown. By God, sir, the Army of the Potomac must be in on this one. We will not lag, we will not slow, I will not let some damn Westerner claim he's won this war against Lee after all we've been through.'
Chamberlain smiled. 'An honor to be here, sir.'
He fell in behind Sykes, breathing deeply, glorying in the fact that he was back, he was with his 'Old Fifth,' the core of survivors of his beloved Army of the Potomac. The agony of his wound was forgotten for the moment, though each jostle of the horse beneath him sent shock waves through his barely healed hips and up his spine. Nor did he think of home, of his wife's threats to leave him if he followed through on such foolishness. No, this was the center, the core of his life, the reason for his existence, to be here, now, to help shape history, to ensure that the cause of freedom won.
Hauling Ferry
10:00 A.M.
Winfield Scott Hancock, barely able to stand, leaned against his cane, watching as the canal boats loaded up with 'Mr. Bartlett's army,' as it was now called. By the hundreds the men were scrambling aboard, as fast as a barge was loaded up, the mules or horses towing the boat dug in and set off, the men aboard cheering.
From up the river more barges were coming around the bend, carrying the last of the troops who had garrisoned Point of Rocks. They were heading back east and south, back down to Edwards Ferry and the crossing at Seneca Crossing.
Lee's men could march at two to three miles to the hour, but aboard the barges they could move four miles to the hour while the men relaxed, sang, ate, or slept.
It was a complex maneuver to keep boxing Lee in. The garrisons at Nolands Ferry and Hauling would hold in place, as would the garrison at Edwards Ferry. Hancock felt supremely confident. Though he had yet to meet him,
