The second reason was that it would give Hood a chance at a semidetached command in an operation that was not all that crucial. If he won, it would reinforce his confidence and serve as a good test If he failed, it would reveal his faults, which, if serious enough, would mean he would have to be relieved; yet such a defeat in and of itself would not be a threatening or terrible blow.

The two generals rode on, the day an absolute delight. An actual coolness was in the air as the last vestiges of the storm raced south-eastward, the trees swaying, leaves rustling in the breeze. The fence rails flanking the road were piled high with weeds and honeysuckle. The pastures beyond, though empty of cattle and horses, were rich, the tall grass flattening down before the wind.

Several children were sitting atop a fence, wide-eyed as they approached. One of the boys, standing, balanced himself, saluting. Smiling, Lee saluted back. Two girls, giggling and blushing, stood at the gate to a farmhouse, both of them waving National Flags of the Confederacy. This time Long-street tipped his hat, as did Lee. An infantryman, sitting on the side of the road, barefoot, nursing what looked to be a broken ankle, looked up balefully as the two approached.

"Sorry I can't stand and salute, sirs; it's broke. Fell out of a tree picking peaches."

"An ambulance will be along to see to you," Lee said in a kindly voice. "But next time, son, don't go foraging like that Take it as a lesson."

"Give it to 'em in Baltimore, sir," the boy shouted as they continued on.

"They weren't supposed to know where we were heading," Longstreet said, apologizing.

"No matter, any man who knows his geography can figure it out now. If we'd turned west at the Rockville Road, it would've meant western Maryland or back to Virginia. That's why their spirits are up; they know we're not retreating."

He caught a glimpse of the president's carriage just ahead around a gentle turn in the road, guards trailing behind.

He slowed his own pace, not wanting to catch up quite yet

"Strange to have him marching with the army," Pete said. "To be expected now."

"I could tell he wanted Washington. In fact, he assumed he could ride straight in."

"God willed differently."

"I don't think he likes God's will," Pete replied.

Lee did not respond to what could be considered to verge on blasphemy.

"Frankly, I wish he had stayed back till we finished the job," Longstreet persevered.

"I will admit the thought," Lee replied. "However, Mr. Benjamin's arguments for taking Baltimore were cogent and persuasive."

"It's just that we should be clear to do our job without someone second-guessing our decisions, or, for that matter, countermanding them."

"I don't think the president will do that. He is an old military man himself, remember. He will stay back and only observe. He'll leave the job to us."

"I hope so, sir."

"Let's not be troubled by it now," Lee replied soothingly. Catching up to the rear of the president's cavalcade, Lee reined in, and returned Old Pete's salute as his second in command spurred his mount and continued on.

It was a most pleasant day, and for the moment he rode alone, glad to not be noticed, glad to just enjoy the cool, windswept afternoon.

Port Deposit, Maryland

My 20,1863 6:45 P.M.

The train glided into the station, bell ringing and whistle shrieking. A full brigade, his old Excelsior, was drawn up along the siding to greet him. Though standing at attention, the men let out a tumultuous roar of approval as he stepped out on to the back platform, eyes sparkling with delight.

Gen. Dan Sickles had returned to his beloved Army of the Potomac.

The brigade broke ranks, swarming around the train. Grinning, he waved for them to gather in, ignoring this breach of discipline. Scarred battle flags were held aloft and waved overhead, the cool evening breeze rushing down the Susquehanna Valley causing them to snap and flutter. He held up his hands for them to be silent, but the cheering continued, climaxing with a rousing three cheers for "Old Dan!"

Finally they fell silent, looking up at him, some with visible tears in their eyes.

"My comrades, my friends," he began, and for a moment his voice choked, so he lowered his head. A bit of it was required melodrama, but in his heart, it was real as well. These were the men he had recruited back in sixty-one, and how few of them remained. How many ghosts now stood around them. He truly loved this brigade, and he would see that now it was done right, that they would be led to the victory they deserved. He raised his head again.

"As you know, yesterday I was appointed to command of the Army of the Potomac."

Again three cheers greeted him and he basked in the glow of it.

"And yet I must now ask. Where is the Army of the Potomac?"

His words were greeted with silence, many of the men standing stock-still, some lowering their heads.

"Where are our gallant comrades of the old reliable First Corps? Our brothers of the Second Corps, who we watched go bravely forward at Union Mills? The men of the Fifth? The Eleventh, which, better served, could have shown their mettle, and the Twelfth, who valiantly charged on that terrible Fourth of July. Where are they?"

No one spoke.

"You and I would willingly give our lives for that dear old flag," and he pointed toward one of the national colors, a regimental flag, torn, battered, stained.

"We would do so without hesitation if we knew that our lifeblood would nourish it, protect it, and cause it to be raised high in final victory. That we would not hesitate to do!"

A ripple of comments greeted him, but no cheers. These were veterans who had seen far too much.

"Perhaps, my comrades, you and I are fated to fall, but here and now, I promise you this, I promise you that if that should be our fate, it shall happen as we charge forward to our final victory against the traitors and not ignominious defeat and withdrawal as we have seen too often in our past!"

The men looked up at him, nodding in agreement.

"For too long our beloved Army of the Potomac has borne the weight of generals' follies upon its shoulders. And I tell you this plainly. I stand here to declare, before the entire world, that the fighting men of our gallant army have never lost a battle!"

For a moment there was confusion over his words. For, after all, what of Chancellorsville, of Union Mills? And then the meaning of what he said was realized and a deep, throaty roar of approval greeted him.

"You, my dear comrades, have never lost a fight It is others that lost it for you. Those of you who stood with me at Gettysburg, who marched across that field on the morning of July second, who saw the chance for ultimate victory, and then saw it torn so basely out of our hands when we were ordered to pull back, you know what I mean and you know who lost it!"

The men looked at him, stunned. Never had a general spoken so plainly to them, spoken the very words they had snared around the campfires and on the march. Their cries now knew no bounds, as if the frustration and rage of the previous two years were at last given vent. He let them roar for more than a minute, then held his hands up again.

‘I promise you this. The Army of the Potomac even now is forming its ranks again. Those who are left, our old brothers from other corps, who cut their way out of the debacle, even now are rallying back to our side. The vacant ranks will indeed be filled.

"And I promise you this as well. Soon, far sooner than many ever dreamed of, we shall march forth. This time no one will hold you back, because I will be in the fore as your commander. There shall be no hesitation. No doubting. No stab in the back.

"We will show the world, we will show the North and the South, we will show all those who ever dared to doubt us, that the Army of the Potomac will drive the enemy before it, not just back to Richmond, but clear down to the Gulf of Mexico. And upon your heads shall be crowned the laurels of the final victory!"