Part Five: Gettysburg, Mid morning of June 29th, 1863
There was a low sounding thunder, deep with bass, and then there was a screech and a scream, and the feeling of earth falling. Pender recoiled slightly, but realised quickly that he was alright: a solid cannon bolt had dug itself into the ground not six feet from where he was sat on his horse. He looked over at Jackson - his hand was up, palm facing outward, open to God, as if to say: here, Lord, send your strength to me here, so that I might smite my enemy. His forage cap was sunk low on his head. Why, he looked ridiculous on the horse, Pender thought, but he was maybe the only man amongst them who didn't flinch.
It was only moments before Captain Raine arrived. He looked at Pender, but Pender only gestured to Jackson. His attention was elsewhere, looking through a field glass at the Yankee gun. "General Jackon Sir," Raine shouted, his horse ready to turn, "Major Latimer reports the Yankee guns are firing on us." Jackson turned his head only, the bright blue eyes staring from underneath the visor on his camp, and said only:
"Well then you had better fire back at them, Captain." Jackson returned to his field glass. "General Pender, what is the name of that hill there?" Raine was already half way down the hill.
"We got a couple of maps from the town. That is... that's Cemetery Hill, Sir. We're on what they call Benner's Hill now.
Jackson grunted, then he said nothing: the artillery had fired again, and another bolt from a Federal three-inch Ordnance gun came too close to comfort. They were mighty accurate, Pender realised. Latimer's boys had a real mix of guns: they might have a hard time shifting any Federal artillery off that hill. Napoleons might not do it, he thought. He turned to Jackson: "Latimer's got a battery up, but they're Napoleons, twelve-pounders Sir -"
"General Pender, I desire that hill," Jackson said, a moment after the next bolt missed. "I want fire on that hill and then I want you to take it. General Hill will be along in three or four hours and I want that position carried before he arrives. With cavalry, you must push, General Pender, and they will fold - cavalry doesn't stick around for a big fight. Push them Sir, and you will gain that hill: do you understand me?"
Pender saluted. "Yes Sir!"
And Jackson was away. Pender moved his staff backwards behind a shallow slope, where the Federal artillery couldn't hit them. How much Cavalry could there be? A Division at most, Pender thought, but Old Blue Lights was right: they would run if he pushed. But that hill was one hell of a position. He would need all his guns to shift the Federals off it... he put Dement's and Carpenter's batteries, mostly Napoleons, shorter ranged and far less accurate, further up, on the edge of the Benner Hill, where they could lob shells over onto the Cemetery. Browns and Raines Batteries with the Parrots and Ordnance guns got the good ground further back, near the Oxford Road, where they could still shell the head of the Cemetery Hill but presented less of a good target for counter-battery fire.
He decided to keep Stueart's big Brigade, mostly Virginians and North Carolinians, all two thousand of them, behind Benner's Hill, where their movements could be masked from enemy observation. He spoke briefly with James Walker, a difficult man and new to command of the Stonewall Brigade, and selected that unit to attack the front of the hill. Then he chose the Louisiana Tigers, the French-speaking zouaves with their colourful red uniforms, chose them because he wanted brawlers for this job and anyway they were very ready for it, to go around the base of the Culp's Hill and move into the Cemetery from the rear. He bolstered their skirmishers with a Regiment of Stuearts, the 3rd North Carolina Infantry: and not because Pender was a North Carolina man, but mainly because it was the nearest Regiment. He kept Jones' Division behind Gettysburg, sheltered from artillery fire behind the unfinished railroad, in position to move through the town as his reserve. He would let the boys get ready, give them ninety minute's worth of artillery fire from Latimer's battalion, then send them in.
He checked his watch; ten forty five. That was as fine an hour as any for there to be a fight.