The Killer Angels

Another day like yesterday… and the Regiment will be gone. In the Union Army that was the way it was: they fought a unit until it bled to death. There were no replacements.

He shook his head, trying to shake away the thought. He could not imagine them gone. He would go with them. But if the war went on much longer… if there was one more fight like yesterday…

The sound of the battle in the north grew steadily in intensity. Chamberlain, alone, wished he knew anything at all about what was happening. He could not even talk to Ellis Spear, who was down in the woods with the other flank of the Regiment, where it joined the 83rd. He waited, alone, staying awake, listening. After a while there was a courier from Rice. He was a puffing lieutenant staggering up among the rocks.

”Colonel Chamberlain? Sir, that’s some climb.” The lieutenant paused to gasp for air, leaned upon a tree.

”My men need rations, Lieutenant,” Chamberlain said.

He stood up on his bloody foot, boot in hand.

”Sir, Colonel Rice instructs me to tell you that you are relieved, sir.”

”Relieved?” Men were gathering around him. Sergeant Tozier had come up, that big-nosed man, towered over the lieutenant, gloomed down at him.

”Colonel Fisher’s people are coming up, sir, and will take over here. Colonel Rice informs me that he wishes to compliment you on a job well done and give your people a rest, so he wants you to fall back, and I’m to show you the way.”

”Fall back.” Chamberlain turned, looked around the hilltop. He did not want to go. You could defend this place against an army. Well. He looked at his tree, from which he had watched the dawn.

He gave the words to Tozier. The Twentieth Maine would stay in position until Fisher’s brigade came up, but in a few moments he heard them coming-extraordinary, he had not expected anything quick to happen in this army. The lieutenant sat against a tree while Chamberlain moved among the troops, getting them ready to move. Chamberlain came back for one last look around. For a moment, at least, we were the flank of the army. From this point you could see the whole battlefield. Now they were going down, to blend into the mass below. He looked around. He would remember the spot. He would be back here, some day, after the war.

The men were in line, all down the hill. Tom and Ellis Spear were waiting down below.

”You’ll guide us, Lieutenant.”

”Yes, sir.”

The lieutenant moved off, downward into the dark.

Chamberlain said, “I’ll be wanting to go back to Little Round Top as soon as possible. The Regiment will bury its own dead.”

”Yes, sir, but I’m to lead you to your new position first, sir, if you don’t mind.”

Chamberlain said, “Where are we going?”

”Oh, sir-“ the lieutenant gri

2. LONGSTREET.

Goree was back in the gray dawn. The move to the south was still possible; the road to Washington was still open. But Union cavalry was closing in around Longstreet’s flank. He sent orders to extend Hood’s division. He sat in the gray light studying Goree’s map, smelling rain, thinking that a little rain now would be marvelous, cool them, cool the battle fever, settle the dust. Wet mist flowed softly by; dew dripped from the leaves, pattered in the woods, but the morning was already warm. The heat would come again.

He drank coffee alone, dreaming. Scheibert, the Prussian, chatted with him about the Battle of Solferino. Longstreet could hear the laughter from Pickett’s boys; some of them had been up all night. They were moving into line in the fields behind Seminary Ridge, out of sight of the Union guns. He was curt with Scheibert. The Prussian was not a fool; he bowed, departed. Longstreet studied the map. Rain would be a great blessing. Rain would screen our movements.

Lee came out of the mists. He was tall and gray on that marvelous horse, riding majestically forward in the gray light of morning outlined against the sky, the staff all around him and behind him, Lee alone in the center, larger than them all, erect, soldierly, gazing eastward toward the enemy line. He rode up, saluted grandly. Longstreet rose. Lee rested both hands on the pommel of his saddle. The mist thickened and blew between them; there was a ghostly quality in the look of him, of all his staff, ghost riders out of the past, sabers clanking, horses breathing thick and heavy in thick dank air.

Lee said, “General, good morning.”

Longstreet offered him coffee. Lee declined. He said, “If you will mount up, General, I would like to ride over in that direction-“ he gestured eastward-“some little way.”

Longstreet called for his horse, mounted. He said, “I’ve had scouts out all night, General. I know the terrain now.”

Lee said nothing. They rode toward the high ground, an opening in the trees. Longstreet looked out across a flat field of mist, fenceposts, a ridge of stone black against the softwhite flow mist, then across the road and up the long rise toward the Union defenses, high out of the mist, fires burning, black ca

Longstreet said again, “Sir, I’ve discovered a way south that seems promising. If we would move-“

”General, the enemy is there-“ Lee lifted his arm, pointed up the ridge in a massive gesture-“and there’s where I’m going to strike him.”

He turned and looked back at Longstreet for one long moment, straight into his eyes, fixing Longstreet with the black stare, the eyes of the General, and then turned away. Longstreet drew his head in, like a turtle.

Lee said slowly, face to the east, “The situation is basically unchanged. But you have Pickett now, and he is fresh. I want you to move your corps forward and take those heights, in the center, and split the Union line.”

Longstreet took a deep breath. Lee said, “I have sent word to Ewell. He is to attack when you do, keeping the enemy pi

He was watching Longstreet’s face, gazing at him without expression, the eyes set far back under white brows, dark, touched with the cool light of the morning. Longstreet said, “Sir.” He shook his head, groping for words. Lee waited.

”Sir, there are some things I must say.”

Lee nodded, again without expression, immobile. The staff had moved back; the two Generals were alone. Longstreet said, “Sir. My two divisions, Hood and McLaws, lost almost half their strength yesterday. Do you expect me to attack again that same high ground which they could not take yesterday at full strength? With so many officers lost? Including Sam Hood?”

Lee was expressionless. The eyes were black and still.

Longstreet said, “Sir, there are now three Union corps on those rocky hills, on our flank. If I move my people forward we’ll have no flank at all; they’ll simply swing around and crush us. There are thirty thousand men on those heights to our right. Cavalry is moving out on my flank now. If I move Hood and McLaws, the whole rear of this army is open.”

Lee’s head shifted slightly, imperceptibly; his eyes shifted. He had been set, now he turned, looked away, looked down at the ground, then east again.

After a moment he said, “You say there is cavalry moving on your right? In what force?”

”Two brigades, at least.”

”You have that from Goree?”

”Yes, sir.”

Lee nodded. “Goree is accurate,” he said. He sat pondering.

”General,” Longstreet said slowly, “it is my considered opinion that a frontal assault here would be a disaster.”

Lee turned, frowned; the dark eyes flared for a moment.

But he said nothing. Longstreet thought: I do not want to hurt this man. He said slowly, “They are well entrenched, they mean to fight. They have good artillery and plenty of it. Any attack will be uphill over open ground. General, this is a bad position. Have you ever seen a worse position? Here we are in a long line, spread all around them, a line five miles long. How can we coordinate an attack? They’re massed all together, damn near in a circle. Anywhere we hit them they can bring reinforcements in a matter of minutes. And they can move up reinforcement behind those hills, out of sight of our ca