Cain at Gettysburg Read Online Free PDF Page A

with warmth again. “Well, I’ll watch Dan Sickles for you. And I’ll see that Howard doesn’t pray too extravagantly for his darkies on army time.” He laughed. “Then we’ll see if you can manage Hancock. Old Win’s the wildest savage Philadelphia ever nursed.”
    â€œWin’s not really a Philadelphia man,” Meade said. “Not in the true sense. Humphreys is more the thing.”
    Amused, Reynolds shook his head and dropped the matter.
    â€œAnd perhaps this army should take General Lee into account,” Meade said abruptly, resentment back in full gallop. “Sharpe waves his hands and tells me the Army of Northern Virginia is ‘somewhere west of the mountains.’ He has no blasted idea.”
    â€œCome now, George. You’re being harsh. I’d have Sharpe any day. If he hasn’t yet found the current address of Robert E. Lee’s chamberpot, who do you think would? Without Sharpe, this army might still be in Virginia. You’re damned lucky to have him.”
    Meade never liked being chastened. He kicked a clod of dirt before realizing that it wasn’t dirt. “I’m trying to drag this army together so we won’t have another disaster on our hands. And I can’t help believing that Lee knows more about us than we do about him. Damn it, we can’t even find Stuart, who’s always ranging about across Lee’s front. It’s as if a curtain’s been drawn.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to let Lee set the rules this time. I swear it. I’m going to fight him on ground I choose, not where he wants to fight. And that means I need to find him before he pounces.”
    â€œBuford’s out in front of me. He’s an old Indian-fighter. If Lee closes on our left, John won’t let him slip by.”
    â€œWe’re not fighting Indians this time.”
    â€œNo. But I trust Buford. And finding Lee should be a tad simpler than trailing a Comanche war party.”
    â€œWell, keep pushing Buford north. Ignore any sobbing from Pleasanton.”
    As the two generals neared the picket line, a young sentry weighed the wisdom of challenging them. He chose to keep his mouth shut and present arms.
    Rejoining the commotion of the camp, Meade said, “Thank you for riding over, John. In this heat. I needed to see you, I had to let some of this out. I really must depend on you, you know.”
    Reynolds kept silent, but his eyes were good.
    â€œIt’s all an odd business,” Meade continued. “I thought I’d be remembered for my method of reading longitude. That, and the better of my lighthouses. Now look where we are.…”
    Before they parted, Meade to see that his orders had been dispatched and Reynolds to rejoin his soldiers, the new commanding general of the Army of the Potomac seized the hand of his friend and sometime rival, gripping it hard. As if to draw strength from it.
    â€œI fear,” Meade said in a voice only Reynolds could hear, “that, if we lose the next battle, we’ve lost the war, John.”
    â€œThen we mustn’t lose it.” Reynolds laughed.
    Abruptly, inexplicably, wonderfully, Meade found himself able to laugh along. And he did. So vigorously it startled those within hearing distance. Reynolds was right: He had to climb out of himself. He couldn’t do worse than Hooker, after all. Perhaps the army just needed an engineer’s discipline.
    Before Meade could gather more confident words, his son dashed madly toward them, bareheaded and struggling to keep his scabbard from tripping him.
    Both generals stiffened.
    â€œFather!” young George cried, drawing up before them. Immediately, he corrected himself, “I mean, General Meade, sir.” Eyes young and wild, he turned to Reynolds and touched fingers to an eyebrow in a salute. “General Reynolds, your indulgence, sir.”
    â€œWhat’s got you all lathered up,