“Doesn’t seem like Yankee civilians much care to take what their army’s been dishing out in Virginia,” Caudell said, pointing to the swarm of refugees ahead.
“Reckon they figure we owe ‘em somewhat for that,” Rufus Daniel said. He shifted his pipe to one corner of his mouth, spat out of the other. “Might could even be they’re right.”
“Maybe.” Caudell looked southeast. Nothing lay between Lee’s soldiers and Washington City but its ring of forts. It was a big but. He suspected Marse Robert would keep the army too busy for it to do much wrecking for wrecking’s sake.
* VII *
The spyglass showed Lee a small, bright circle in the middle of blackness. It made the heart of Washington City seem close enough to reach out and touch. There was the White House, flanked on the right by the three-story brick building with columned entranceway that housed the Federal War Department, on the left by the Greek Revival columns of the huge Treasury Department building, with the smaller State Department headquarters in front of it. South of the White House, across a lot empty but for temporary barracks, he could make out the tall but unfinished obelisk intended to honor George Washington, to the east the Capitol, its great dome done at last.
Lee admired Lincoln for continuing work on the dome in the midst of war; it showed the Northern President thought about more than the immediate present. Lee frowned a little. How to reconcile such thoughtfulness with the vicious tyrant Andries Rhoodie had described?
He dismissed the irrelevant problem as he lowered the glass, sweeping in an instant across the city to the works that held him away from it. Those works were formidable. The Federals had cut down all the trees within two miles in front of them, to rob advancing rebels of cover from the big guns in their forts. A network of trenches in front of the forts protected them and the field artillery positions between them.
“If it were done when ‘tis done, then ‘twere well it were done quickly,” Lee murmured.
“Macbeth,” Charles Venable said beside him.
“In this instance, Major, we would be wise to heed the Bard’s tactical advice.” Lee passed the long brass tube to his aide. “Examine the trenches carefully, if you would. They are not yet full, and the men in them, I hear, are garrison troops, not the veterans of the Army of the Potomac. We may break through tonight; tomorrow will be far more difficult, and the day after surely impossible.”
“Tonight?” Venable echoed.
Lee glanced at him with amusement. “Are you so careful of your words that you expend them only as single shots? Yes, tonight. The worst mistake I Ye made in all this war, and the one that cost us dearest, was the assault on Cemetery Ridge that third day at Gettysburg. The position ahead is stronger, and the cannon in it bigger. Were we to make a daylight attack, they would slaughter us before we drew close enough for our repeaters to rescue us. In the darkness, they will have more difficulty finding proper targets.”
“But a night battle?” Venable had more than one word at a time in him after all. “How do you propose to control a night battle, Sit?”
“I don’t propose to,” Lee answered. He almost laughed at the shocked look on Venable’s face. “Can we but come to close quarters with the enemy, I think we shall break through somewhere along the line. Once we do, the advantage will be ours—and with it, I hope, Washington City.”
“Yes, sir.” Venable did not sound convinced. Lee was not altogether convinced himself. He was convinced, however, that the Army of Northern Virginia would never have a better chance to take Washington. And if the Federal capital fell into Southern hands, how could Britain and France and the rest of the world continue to deny the Confederate States of America were as true and genuine a nation as the United States? The stakes made the risk worthwhile.
He dictated orders, sent them to his corps commanders. The army began to shift into a line that centered on the Seventh Street Road, from the earthworks of Fort Slocum in the east past Fort Stevens to Fort de Russy in the southwest. The sun slipped down the western sky. Lee watched the Federal lines and waited. He did his best to appear impassive, but his heart thudded in his chest, and with the thudding came pain. Absently, he slid one of the little white pills from Andries Rhoodie under his tongue. The pain went away.
Twilight was deepening when Walter Taylor came up and said, “Sir, Rhoodie requests permission to speak to you.”
The Rivington man had not been so formal before Lee defied him. At first Lee intended to say he was too busy. Then, remembering the nitroglycerine tablet, he softened. “Tell him he may, but to be quick.”
Taylor led Rhoodie up to Lee. “General,” Rhoodie said, politely dipping his head. Lee returned the gesture. Taking Lee’s warning literally, Rhoodie plunged ahead: “General Lee, if you intend to attack the Federal forts tomorrow, my men and I can help.”
“I intend to attack tonight, sir,” Lee answered, and had the somber satisfaction of watching Rhoodie’s jaw drop. The Rivington man muttered something in his own guttural language.
But he quickly recovered. “You’re as bold as you are said to be, that’s certain. We can still help you, maybe even more. Whatever the differences you and I have had, America: Will Break aims for the South to win this war.”
That was the gamble Lee had made when he defied the big man from the future. Now he said, “Thank you, Mr. Rhoodie, but you’ve already furnished us plenty of repeaters.” He pointed to the AK-47 slung on Rhoodie’s back. “The handful you and your comrades might add will make scant difference in the outcome of the fight.”
“But we have something you do not.” The Rivington man took from his knapsack a green—painted spheroid a little bigger than a baseball. A metal shaft stuck out from it. “This is a rifle grenade, General. The AK-47 can shoot one about three hundred yards. They should do nicely for spreading confusion in the Federal trenches and forts, wouldn’t you say?”
“A rifle grenade?” The Federals sometimes used hand grenades fused with percussion caps. They were, however, limited by the strength of a man’s arm. Shot from rifles…”It would almost be as if we were shelling them without employing artillery, wouldn’t it?”
“Exactly,” Rhoodie said.
“Any surprise we can effect will surely accrue to our advantage. Very well, Mr. Rhoodie, you and your men may proceed. I aim to move forward at ten tonight. You will, I presume, wish to obtain your firing positions somewhat before that time.”
“Yes, General. Let us move out a bit ahead of your forces so we can soften the way for them.”
“I sincerely appreciate your joining in our fight, sir.” Though he did not say so, Lee was also curious to see how the Rivington men would fare in combat. Konrad de Buys fought well enough on horseback to satisfy as exacting a critic of courage as Jeb Stuart. So far as Lee knew, though, none of the other men from America Will Break had gone into action. He thought of them more as military engineers than frontline troops. Of course, his own career had also begun in the engineers…”Good luck to you, Mr. Rhoodie.”
“Thank you, General. May we meet again tomorrow, inside Washington.” Rhoodie touched a finger to the brim of his mottled cap and hurried away. Lee watched till he was out of sight. However brutal some of the principles he espoused, he knew the right wish to make.
“Pin that on there good for me, Nate,” Alsie Hopkins said. Caudell made sure the scrap of paper was securely attached to the back of Hopkins’s shirt. As he stepped away, the private went on, “Thanks for writin’ it for me, too.”