Hell or Richmond Read Free Page A

Recovering, he continued, “Lee’s army will always shield Richmond. The way to get him to fight is to threaten Richmond.”
    “Go on,” Grant said.
    “I still favor the eastern axis. Cross at the fords above Fredericksburg and move south fast. Washington’s covered, so you won’t have to split off a corps or more to keep them feeling snug back along the Potomac. Supplies can be shifted along the coast as the army advances. Shorter lines of communications all around.”
    Grant kept his eyes on the map, and Meade could feel the man’s gaze settle on Chancellorsville.
    “Been tried,” Grant said. “Hasn’t worked.”
    “The army’s never been properly led when it was tried.” Meade undid the top button of his uniform. “Oh, why not say it? Burnside wasn’t fit to command this army. We could’ve won at Fredericksburg, I was there. My division broke their line. All for nothing. You’ve never seen such a needless, senseless, damnable debacle. And Chancellorsville. Hooker froze like a hare cornered by a rattlesnake. We could’ve won at Chancellorsville, too. Even after Jackson embarrassed us. We all wanted to attack, all the real generals, to hit back hard. Even Dan Sickles was for attacking, God help us, and he was Hooker’s creature through and through. Lord knows, we had the numbers. We could’ve destroyed Lee’s army then and there, it was split in two and disorganized.” He felt the need to cough, but growled instead. “And what did we do? We just quit. It was … it was despicable.” Infuriated, Meade let his voice rise, abandoning his gentlemanly decorum. “This army’s never been allowed to really fight by its commanders. Little Mac, Burnside, Hooker … damn the whole business to Hell. We’ve wasted years .”
    “It was allowed to fight at Gettysburg,” Grant said.
    Abandoning society manners, Meade spit into the tobacco fog. “They didn’t have a damned choice. They were shitting themselves, imagining Stuart was going to ravish their women and cut their throats in the night. They were glad to give me free rein then. Oh, weren’t they just? And look what it got me. The damned committee—you know I’ve got to report again tomorrow? I’m interrogated in public like a criminal.” Furious now, he towered over Grant. “I tell you, if this war is lost, it’ll be lost in Washington, not by this army. This is a great army. It just needs the politicians to let it be great.” Abruptly, Meade sagged. “I’ve done the best I could.”
    “Sit down, General Meade,” Grant ordered. The words were spoken calmly, but intently. When Meade, ruing his temper, had settled himself in his chair, the general in chief said, “You seem to be under a misapprehension.”
    Meade looked up and met those opaque eyes again.
    “I’m sorry?”
    “This business of you being relieved of command. I expect you to stay at your post.”
    “But … General Smith?”
    “I’ll find something for Baldy to do. Probably give him a corps. You and I are closer in line than Washington would have it. And, frankly, you know this army, it respects you. You’re the only man who gave it a victory. More than one. Bristoe Station, that Rappahannock business…” He snorted. “We don’t fit together right, I’ll put you out to pasture. But I’d be a fool to do it now and start off on the wrong foot with every man in the Army of the Potomac.” Relaxing now, Grant grinned. “Oh, my western boys would like to see a clean sweep of every officer east of the Appalachians, they’re pissing fire. But you just stand your ground, and they’ll calm down.”
    “I’m honored, sir. Positively honored.” Meade caught himself. It didn’t do to sound groveling, after all. But his relief was immeasurable, nearly of the extent he had felt on that last afternoon at Gettysburg. He had not failed. At least, not yet.
    Grant stood up and stepped back to the maps. Meade didn’t move. He sensed that Grant had more to say.
    “As for