Newt Gingrich - Never Call Retreat

Under the awning Longstreet pointed to a chair at the head of the table. Lee settled down, a servant bringing to him what appeared to be a miracle, lemonade that was actually iced, and he gladly took it, draining half the glass. Benjamin sat down by his right side, Taylor moved in behind Lee, while his cavalry escort dismounted, the men then walking their mounts back down to the stream to water them.

The corps commanders gathered around the table and sat down, division commanders stood behind them.

"General Stuart," Lee began, "what is the latest news?"

"Well, sir, we lost our outpost and telegraphy connection at Carlisle."

"When?"

"Shortly after six this morning, sir. Yankee cavalry hit them hard. Our men were forced to retreat and we lost all connection."

"And what other word is there?"

"Sir, all our telegraph connections that can report quickly on Harrisburg are down. The outposts we still have are at Shippensburg, Hanover Junction, Frederick, and Gettysburg."

As he spoke he pointed out the positions on the map.

"We had a report at midmorning that the Yankees were also crossing by ferry at Wrightsville, cavalry," he paused, "and infantry. It is also reported they are starting to build a pontoon bridge as well at that location. We then lost our outpost at York about two hours ago."

"Grant's first move," Longstreet interjected, "is to cut our telegraph outposts, blind us."

"We'd have done the same," Lee replied noncommittally. He had hoped they could have held contact for most of the day. The use of telegraphs for such reports was something new for the Army of Northern Virginia, but given the vast front they now operated on, literally all of eastern Maryland and south central Pennsylvania, he had hoped to keep these precious lines up awhile longer.

"So any information we have now, sir," Stuart continued, "is nearly as old as our first reports, couriers have to carry them back to our remaining posts."

"And those reports?"

"The same, sir. Grant pushed the bridge across during the night at Harrisburg, and they started moving before dawn.

Railroad equipment was sighted as well. Moved by train up to the bridge north of Harrisburg, across the river, and down the right bank. Apparently they are already laying track and replacing bridges we'd torn up." "Units?"

"Definitely corps strength or more. McPherson's Corps was in the lead. The report I just mentioned from York indicated infantry in corps strength preparing to cross at Wrightsville. That's it, so far."

"He'd lead with McPherson," Hood said softly. "We all know he is a good man."

Lee nodded in agreement.

"And that is it?" Lee asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that is all I can report now."

"It is not your fault, General Stuart," Lee replied, holding his hand up.

He did not add that now, more than ever, he regretted the audacity of the raid attempted a week ago by Wade Hampton. He had felt some reluctance to adopt Stuart's bold plan, to launch Hampton on a raid up toward Reading to gather intelligence on Grant, sow panic, disrupt rail transportation, and perhaps even skirt the edge of Philadelphia.

Grant's cavalry, backed by infantry, had relentlessly hunted Wade down, killed him, and wiped out his entire brigade. Those men would have been invaluable now for shadowing Grant. The only forces deployed to shadow Grant were two regiments detached from his nephew Fitz Lee's Brigade. That was nowhere near enough to harass Grant, to slow him, and at this moment, far more importantly, to gain knowledge of his intentions.

Lee studied the map for a moment, finishing his iced lemonade.

What would I do? He wondered. I will not put myself in Grant's shoes, not yet. I'll do so when I know the man better. Don't assume he will do what I would do.

He leaned back from the table and motioned for another glass.

"Comments?"

"He'll come straight at us," "Pete" Longstreet said. "He's just securing his right flank at Carlisle. The main push will come from York to Hanover Junction, then to Baltimore using the Northern Central Railroad for supplies. He'll use the rail line for supplies and come straight down those tracks toward Baltimore."

Pete fell silent for a moment. Lee nodded for his old war-horse to continue.

"If he started this last night, I think he was hoping that we would still be tangled up along the Susquehanna, mopping up Sickles. Our men exhausted, worn down. He then pivots."

As Longstreet spoke he brushed his hand across the map to indicate the move.

"Pins us north of Baltimore."

"Precisely why I ordered this forced march back to Baltimore today," Lee replied.

He nodded toward the road down which the endless column flowed by, the men slowing in their passage at the sight of Lee and his lieutenants under the awning not fifty yards away. Guards along the road could be heard chanting over and over, "Keep moving, boys. Yes, it's General Lee. Don't disturb them. Keep moving, boys…"

"If he does that," Lee said, "we've slipped the noose and Grant will just reoccupy the ground Sickles tried to take. Let him have it, then we are inside Baltimore, behind fortifications, and he can attack us till doomsday."

"I've learned to have a healthy respect for this man," Beauregard said softly, the lilt of his Louisiana accent soft and pleasant.

"Go on, sir," Lee replied.

"I'd be nervous about getting ourselves pinned inside of Baltimore. Look at the way he maneuvered between Forts Henry and Donelson, the way he encircled Vicksburg from the rear. If we stay in Baltimore, he might very well envelope us, circle around, and reconnect to his supplies through Washington. Do that, and he frees up the garrison of Washington to act as an offensive force, too. Sir, I'd be cautious about that move. We don't want Grant to gain control of the forty thousand men still pinned down there."

"Good advice, General Beauregard, but if that threat should arise, it will be five days, perhaps a week from now. But would you concur with General Longstreet that he will turn at Carlisle and come straight at us?"

Beauregard lowered his gaze, staring intently at the map for a moment.

"Honestly, sir, I don't know. I do not know this terrain, the land, the roads the way you men do.

Hood cleared his threat and Lee turned to face the commander of his Second Corps.

"Go on, General Hood. Your thoughts."

"I'd agree with General Longstreet," Hood replied, "except for one thing."

"And that is?"

"McPherson being in the lead and marching on Carlisle."

"And that is?"

"Sir. You and I know McPherson. I believe Grant brought him east to be his fast-moving corps, his Jackson."

Hood hesitated, realizing he had unintentionally offered an insult.

"Or the task you now do so ably, General Longstreet," Hood cried.

"No insult taken, sir," Pete said, just offering a smile and a nod.

"Please continue, General Hood," Lee interjected.

"If I was Grant, and wanted the strike to come due south, I'd have placed McPherson in Wrightsville and built the first bridge there, not at Harrisburg. I think we can read into this, sir, that perhaps Grant's intent is not to come due south, but rather to swing wide."

Hood gestured toward the map and motioned with his hand.

"A broad sweeping march down the Cumberland Valley. To turn our flank, perhaps even spring into Virginia."

Lee did not reply. Hood had raised a point. He next turned to Jeb.

"General Stuart? Your opinion."

"Most likely straight at us, sir. He can close in three to four days, using the intact railroad for support. Swinging down the valley will take more time, and the Yankees always are slower than us. Add in that, repairing the railroad will tie them up further. We tore that railroad in the Cumberland Valley apart for just that reason, sir, but kept the Northern Central intact in case we had to eventually move back to Harrisburg. Grant will take advantage of that and come straight at us looking for a fight."