The Last Full Measure (7 page)

Continuing his survey, Chamberlain saw a series of ridges running away to the northwest like great serried swells on the surface of a green and rocky sea. The land appeared to be fairly flat and open to the northeast. Where he stood the Taneytown road passed between a cluster of trees on the west and an open field to the east with just a few trees dotting it. Perhaps a quarter-mile to the east where the Baltimore Pike also crested the hill Chamberlain could see a tall brick structure with a center opening shaped like an arch. Clustered near the side of the brick building facing Chamberlain were the shapes of tombstones and memorials. He couldn’t help wondering if the presence of a cemetery on the hill was an omen.

Turning all the way around, he stared southeast to where the Baltimore Pike disappeared between forested heights a few miles distant.

Captain Longstreet, his expression somber, came up beside Chamberlain. “Good ground,” Longstreet observed. “If a man had to fight a battle, there would be many worse places to defend than this.”

“You wouldn’t want to attack here?” Chamberlain asked.

“No, sir, I would not. Good high ground to entrench your troops and artillery and observe the enemy’s movement, a series of ridges defenders could fall back upon, and good clear fields of fire.” Longstreet shook his head. “But soldiers are rarely allowed to chose their battlefields. A man fights where he must, and when he must.” Longstreet bent a searching gaze on Chamberlain. “Do you know when you will fight, sir?”

“When I must, I suppose.”

“Will you stand your ground then? Or seek safety?”

Chamberlain gazed into the distance. “I hope I stand with my friends, captain. I hope I stand with those things I believe in. Does any man know the answer for certain before he faces that situation?”

“No.” Longstreet blew out a long breath. “I was wounded at Chapultepec, professor, standing with my friends. I have served my country loyally and well.”

“You are still serving it well, if my opinion matters, captain.”

“Opinions will vary, professor.” Longstreet looked around again. “Good ground.” Then he walked heavily away, leaving Chamberlain still staring down the Baltimore Pike.

They had been resting for only perhaps half an hour and Buford’s men had just delivered provisions acquired in the town when a scout rode over to the officers, rendering a swift and sloppy salute. “There’s a rider coming up the pike from Baltimore. He’s in a hurry.”

Hancock came to stand beside Armistead and Chamberlain, watching the approaching rider with concerned eyes. “One of ours?” he asked Buford.

“He’s in regular army uniform,” Buford reported, lowering his field glasses. “A courier, maybe. We’ll stop him.” He beckoned to several of his soldiers, who mounted up and rode down to meet the horseman.

They could see the lone horseman ride steadily to meet Buford’s men, join up with them, and after a brief talk the entire group came up the road.

The rider’s horse was covered with foam, its tongue lolling out as the rider dismounted with a stagger. “Captain Buford, is he here?”

“Here, soldier.”

The man saw Buford and even through the dust and sweat coating his face the others could see it brighten. He straightened to attention and saluted. “I served under you, sir, out west.”

Buford eyed him, then smiled and nodded. “Corporal Jenkins.”

“Yes, sir.” The corporal’s own smile vanished as quickly as it had come. “I have deserted from my unit, sir.”

“So have we all,” Buford replied.

The soldier grinned with relief. “I wish to join you. I have important news.”

“Very well, corporal. You are welcome. Make your report.”

The familiar ritual seemed to steady the exhausted soldier, who stood without wavering and recited his information clearly. “Sir, there is a force under Colonel Lee in pursuit of you. My company was attached to the Baltimore garrison, but more cavalry and infantry along with Colonel Lee came up the Chesapeake by ship a couple of days ago and we all headed out. The column is proceeding up the Baltimore Pike and consists of a regiment of infantry and two companies of cavalry. I left it about ten miles back when I had a chance to get off unseen as they stopped to rest in a town. They know this town here is where many roads converge. They’re pushing on fast and hoped to get here before you did, so as to cut you off.”

“Ten miles.” Hancock spat out a lurid curse. “Too damned close.”

“Who’s in command of the cavalry?” Buford asked.

“Captain Stuart, sir.”

“Stuart? J.E.B. Stuart?”

“Yes, sir.”

Buford nodded heavily, then looked toward Hancock. “I know how to handle Stuart.”

“Do you? He’s a good cavalryman, I’ve heard.”

“Good enough,” Buford conceded. “Very good. But he’s also predictable in some ways. He wants to be seen by everyone as the best. As a cavalryman, he believes in great charges, fighting saber to saber from the saddle. He’s good at that, so we don’t want to fight his battle.” Buford studied the terrain, his eyes narrowing. “Will we try to delay them?”

“We have to,” Hancock replied. “The question is where.”

“Here,” Longstreet stated bluntly. “It’s as strong a position as you’ll find, and the men and horses need time to rest before a fight. If you push on now Stuart’s cavalry may catch our entire force with man and beast at the end of their strength.”

Hancock pursed his mouth, looking downward, then nodded. “We have enough with us to stop Lee here.”

“If what is with Lee is all that he has,” Buford pointed out. “Corporal, do you know whether or not any other regular columns are converging on this area?”

The cavalry corporal shook his head, looking regretful. “No, sir. I don’t know if there’s more units in the area or where they’re going.”

“My scouts haven’t the time or the numbers to know the answer,” Buford admitted. “But a crossroads like this, along the route they must by now have realized we are taking, is a logical place for Lee to concentrate his forces.”

Longstreet grimaced. “The best place to make a stand, but the worst one as well. We could have columns as strong as Lee’s coming from the north, east and from the south in pursuit of us. If we all stay here, we may all be trapped here, or at the least face attacking forces from more than one direction. But if we all push on, Bobbie Lee will catch us for certain.”

Hancock seemed to be chewing over Longstreet’s words, then spat. “Damn. I don’t want you to be right, James, but you might be. You’re advising that I leave part of this force to delay Lee and push the rest on to the northwest to avoid any other columns converging on this place.”

“I am, sir. It’s not a hopeless battle for those left here. It’s not hard to predict what the enemy will do.” Longstreet pointed down the pike. “You know Bobbie Lee. He’ll march his infantry right up the road with an eye to smashing through any blocking force here, and send his cavalry around those hills to the east to get behind the blocking force and trap it so it gets hit from both front and back. Textbook solution. I’ll be ready for it. With this ground I believe I can throw Lee back, and then withdraw and rejoin the rest of you before any regular army reinforcements get here.”

“No, sir,” Hancock replied, shaking his head. “Not you, James. We need you when we get to Indiana and Illinois. You know the Army of the New Republic people in those states and you know the states themselves.”

Longstreet seemed disposed to argue, but Buford spoke up. “The blocking force will require my cavalry, so I need to remain. I’ll draw the regular cavalry into a fight in the town where its numbers won’t matter. Stuart won’t be able to resist trying to fight my mounted troops, and once he starts fighting them he’ll stay tied down and never mind any orders to do otherwise.”

“Are you certain?” Hancock asked.

“I’m betting my life on it,” Buford responded dryly, then something else seemed to occur to him and he turned back to the corporal. “Two companies of cavalry, you said. Who’s with Stuart? What other cavalry officers are with that force?”

“Just a young fool named Custer in charge of the other company, sir.” The corporal looked aghast at his candor. “Begging your pardon, sir.”

“That’s all right, corporal,” Buford assured him. He glanced at Hancock. “From what I hear, that’s an apt description of Custer. Last in his class at the Point. Headstrong, impulsive, and very political. Small wonder he made captain so quickly, and he’ll badly want a glorious victory here to boost his chances at promotion to major. Custer won’t offer any wise counsel, even if Stuart were willing to listen, and since he’s junior to Stuart he has to follow Stuart’s orders.”

“Good.” Hancock indicated the Baltimore Pike. “Corporal, you said Lee is in command of the column, but who’s in command of the infantry regiment?”

The corporal bit his lip, plainly thinking. “A Major…Scythes?”

“Scythes? There’s no—Sickles. Is it Major Sickles?”

“Yes, sir! That’s it, sir! Sickles.”

“A politician of dubious military merit earning his credit for service. Lee and Stuart are capable officers, but otherwise we’ve some luck in our opponents, it seems.” Hancock looked around slowly, eyeing the terrain and his forces on the hill, then nodded. “Very well, Captain Buford. I’ll give you all but twenty of our mounted men. I need to keep some for scouts and couriers. But you can’t command the defense against Lee’s infantry coming up the pike if you’re overseeing dealing with Lee’s cavalry in the town. We need an officer to be in charge of the infantry blocking force.” Hancock’s words came out reluctantly, then he turned a grim look on Armistead.

Armistead nodded calmly. “I’m the only one left, Win. It’s not like you have a choice.”

“Damn it all, I know you can do it. Captain Armistead, what would you need to hold your position?”

“Everything we’ve got and then some.” Armistead smiled crookedly. “But give me what you can, Win, and I’ll make do.”

Hancock pivoted back to face the rider. “Corporal, is Major Sickle’s infantry regiment at full strength?”

“No, sir,” the corporal replied immediately. “Ain’t no unit at full strength, these days. He’s got about four hundred infantry, maybe five hundred.”

Hancock chewed his lip, staring at the grass again, then looked at Armistead. “Can you hold him with fifty men?”

Armistead pursed his lips and gazed down the pike as if Lee’s regiment were already visible, then eastward toward where the road came up the hill near the cemetery. “I’ve seen worse defensive positions, but ten to one odds isn’t recommended in the textbooks, Win.”

“I’m not asking you to kick Bobbie Lee’s ass back to Baltimore, Lo. Just hold here a while. We can’t travel near as fast as we’d like with Lincoln hurt and everyone exhausted. Give us time to put some distance between us and that damned regular army column, then you and Buford’s men are to come on fast and rejoin us before any more regular columns come from other directions. But I’ve got to keep a strong force with me in case we run into more regulars on Chambersburg Pike. If we do, James Longstreet and I are going to need every man we’ve got.”

“Fifty men?” Armistead saluted. “Yes, sir. Request permission to ask for volunteers.”

“Do so, sir.”

“Sergeant Maines, form the men. We have little time,” Hancock directed. “Choose the volunteers quickly and then release the rest so we can prepare to move out as quickly as possible.”

As they waited for the men with them to fall into formation, Chamberlain stepped close to Armistead. “Captain, I have a request to make.”

“Then please do so, sir. We are a little pressed for time.”

“I know how important this is. I…would like to volunteer to be part of your command. If that is the right way to say it.”

Armistead smiled. “Close enough, sir. Your offer is accepted.” He looked at Hancock, who had been glowering into the distance but now smiled back briefly as if both men were sharing a private joke.

The fifty volunteers were selected and forming up when Longstreet rode over to where Armistead and Chamberlain stood. “You’re staying, professor?”

Chamberlain nodded. “I found my Rubicon.”

“Have you? Don’t let down the men fighting beside you, professor.” Longstreet turned a somber gaze on Armistead. “Things have changed since Mexico, Lo. You know that. A lot of people don’t. They think it’s still about marching troops in tight formations straight at the enemy and trading volleys at close range. But it’s not smooth-bore muskets anymore. There are rifles now. Breech-loading carbines, even repeaters. One man under cover can hold off a dozen.”

“There’s truth to that,” Armistead agreed.

“Most of your men have weapons they don’t need to load standing up. Keep them spread out, shooting from behind any cover they can find. That’s my advice. Damn, Lo. I want to stay and do this myself. It’s my fault we’re here.” Longstreet frowned toward the south. “I don’t like it, Lo. Fighting Bobbie Lee. Helluva thing.”

“We have all chosen this, James. I am not happy about it, either. I pray that God has given me the wisdom to make the right choice, and that He have mercy on us all no matter our choice.”

“Hmph.” Longstreet turned his horse with a final look southward. “There’s no mercy in this world or the next, Lo. All that awaits us is whatever destinies our choices dictate. Good luck.”

“Good luck, James.”

As Longstreet rode off, Hancock returned, also mounted, looking so magnificent that Chamberlain finally fully understood why he had heard Hancock referred to as ‘the superb’ by some of the men. Hancock sat in his saddle, looking south. “Lo, your orders are to hold Bobbie Lee. Hold him until sunset if possible, but not longer than that. You are to withdraw and follow us after sunset, establishing any further blocking positions as you deem necessary given the state of your command and the situation regarding the enemy. Don’t worry about Buford. If anyone can tie down the regular cavalry, it’s him. Just coordinate your movements with Buford and all should be well.” Hancock turned his eyes on Armistead. “I wish I could leave you more men. There will be a lot of pressure on you.”

“We will give you the time you need, Win,” Armistead assured him.

“As God is my witness, I wish I could stay here and fight beside you.”