"There will be no Confederacy, Colonel, unless Lee moves out and attacks the enemy."
He said this in a belligerent manner, his eyes half closed and his chin thrust forward as he puffed at his pipe.
An indignant flush swept over the veteran's face.
"Is this just a case of thumbs up and thumbs down?" he asked. "Is the Government to have a victory whenever it asks for it, merely because it does ask for it?"
Redfield still puffed slowly and deliberately at his pipe, and did not lower his chin a fraction from its aggravating height.
"General Lee overestimates the enemy," he said, "and has communicated the same tendency to all his men. It's a fatal mistake in war; it's a fatal mistake, I tell you, sir. The Yankees fight poorly."
The flush on the face of the Confederate colonel deepened. He tapped his empty sleeve and looked around at what he called the "missing members."
"You are in Congress, Mr. Redfield," he said, "and you have not seen the Yankees in battle. Only those who have not met them on the field say they cannot fight."
"I warn you that I am going to speak in Congress on the inaction of Lee and the general sloth of the military arm!" exclaimed Redfield.
"But, Mr. Redfield," said Prescott, seeking to soothe the Colonel and to still the troubled waters, "we are outnumbered by the enemy in our front at least two to one, we are half starved, and in addition our arms and equipment are much inferior to those of the Yankees."