The Fateful Lightning Read Online Free Page A

needs him in Tennessee. Hood couldn’t keep us out of Atlanta, so he’s gonna do the next best thing he can to save his honor. Richmond’s howling about the loss of Atlanta, so Hood has to make it up to them, find salvation someplace else. Point is, he needs a victory. So he’s marching north, probably aiming to hit Nashville.”
    “Right. But I don’t understand what this has to do with Atlanta.”
    “Not a damn thing. We cut off all contact with Atlanta, and every other place that’s not right in front of us.” He raised a hand, pointed down the road toward the marching column. “That’s where we’re going. I don’t care a whit about where we’ve been. It’s a pure waste if I leave men in Atlanta. I’ll not slice off a big piece of this army just so they can sit in earthworks, and maybe offer a target for Forrest or whoever else might be tempted. There’s nothing in Atlanta right now to protect. Nothing to save. Nothing threatened. It’s behind us. Just like your telegraph wires.” Sherman looked at Conyngham now, saw comprehension on the man’s face. “You’ll just have to keep your stories to yourself until we find another telegraph.” He paused. “You just a bit curious when or where that’ll be?”
    Conyngham shook his head. “No, sir. It will happen when you tell me about it.”
    Sherman knew a lie when he heard one. “Don’t ‘pleasure’ me, Conyngham. It’s gotta be killing every one of you reporters just what we’re headed for, just what the plan is.”
    “I’ve given it some thought, yes, sir. Every man in this army knows your orders, your careful vagueness.
A special purpose, well known to the War Department and General Grant, a departure from our present base and a long and difficult march to a new one
. Well expressed, sir. The message is clear to all involved. The most effective way to preventthe enemy from knowing our intentions is to keep those intentions secret even from your friends. If I may, I only ask that, when time permits, you allow me to inquire and observe those things that are appropriate. You know that General Grant supports a free press, as does the War Department.”
    Sherman knew he was on dangerous ground now, felt a small simmering heat rise up in his chest. After a long moment, he said, “Any one of you newspaper boys writes anything that reveals anything useful to the enemy, I shall arrest you as a spy. I am no enemy of freedom of the press, but if you believe the press governs this country, then I would suggest you be the ones to fight this war. No reporter I have ever met understands the necessities of battle, not even one who claims affiliation with the Irish Brigade. Do you understand my feelings, Mr. Conyngham?”
    Conyngham did not hesitate, kept his voice calm, no heat in his words. “I understand completely, sir. We are, all of us, on enemy soil. If we are confronted by rebel troops, your judgment and your weaponry will lead the way. As I said, sir, I am merely an observer. Your orders apply to me as they apply to those men in uniform.”
    Sherman felt disarmed, couldn’t avoid the feeling that he actually
liked
this man. But he wasn’t prepared to offer Conyngham any hint of that. “You can ask anything you like. But be aware, Conyngham. I am the king of this particular mountain. If that ever displeases you, you are certainly free to find another mountain.”
    Conyngham laughed, another surprise. “I am aware of the proximity of enemy cavalry, sir. Obviously, I have no place else to go. This mountain will do just fine.”

CHAPTER TWO

GRANT

    CITY POINT, VIRGINIA—NOVEMBER 17, 1864
    T he bank was steep, high above the soft light reflecting off the river. He came to the overlook often, staring out at the enormous might of the Federal strength he had assembled, a vast armada of supply ships, the wharves below him never quiet, supplies and armaments and men all adding to his army, the army whose sole purpose was to destroy Robert E. Lee.
    He