Regimental Band from the Twenty-sixth North Carolina would offer a selection of waltzes, polkas, and reels.

Lee with Davis, Beauregard, Benjamin, and Stuart at his side rode up to the pavilion. Longstreet and Hood, coming over from their respective commands, arrived at the pavilion just behind Lee.

Hood was positively beaming; he had always been one to enjoy such pageantry, and for once the mood between him and Stuart was openly jovial. Dismounting, Lee looked over at Longstreet, who stood to one side, and approached.

"Did you enjoy the parade?"

"You know I find them to be a bit tiresome, sir. Rather have the men out drilling."

"Still, it's good for their spirits. It boosts morale to see the army assembled and a proper greeting to General Beauregard's men."

"We're as ready as we'll ever be," Longstreet replied. "You could see that today."

Lee smiled; it was a concession that on Old Pete's part that the grand review had caught his soul as well.

Yes, they were ready; the question was, To do what?

One corner of the pavilion had been set aside for Davis, Lee, and his staff to have a private repast before the beginning of the afternoon's and evening's festivities. Orderlies from his staff, well turned out in new uniforms, waited, the table already spread with the finest Baltimore could offer- oysters, champagne, fried clams, half a dozen selections of wine, crabs freshly boiled and spiced crab cakes, French brandies, thinly sliced beef, sweet corn, and, of course, fried chicken.

For once he did not feel guilty as he looked at the cornucopia of food spread upon the table. His men had been indulging in the same, except, naturally, for the spirits, eating as the Army of Northern Virginia had not eaten since the hard, bitter days before Richmond, the year before.

Already spoiled by Yankee largesse in their march north to Chambersburg, and then to Gettysburg and beyond, they had known true luxury the last three weeks. With President

Davis ready to sign a voucher order, the warehouses of Baltimore had been stripped clean of anything that would feed and boost the morale of this army. The men had marveled at the cans of condensed milk issued to them to lighten their coffee. And coffee! Not just any coffee, but a selection of beans from Jamaica, Brazil, Colombia, so that a lively trade had developed between regiments issued one or the other.

Every man now had new shoes, hats, blankets, even trousers and jackets, the milliners conveniently ready with gray dye to convert trousers that only the month before had been destined for the armies of the North. Canvas for tents had been found, including the very canvas that now covered the pavilion, along with hundreds of saddles, wagons that had escaped from the rout at Westminster, ammunition for both artillery and rifles, two hundred additional ambulances for the medical corps, thousands of mules, yet more remounts for the cavalry, forge wagons for artillery, even portable bakery wagons containing ovens and steam engines "borrowed" from fire departments, which might prove of use in some unexpected way.

For an army that had marched for far too long on lean stomachs it was as if they had gone to heaven while still alive. Bullocks by the hundreds had been driven into the camps; each night the regiments offered choices of fresh beef until they could eat no more. Wagons loaded with sweet corn came in from the countryside, and fresh-faced girls made it a practice to visit the camps, bearing loaves of home-baked bread, cakes, and cookies, greeted with reverent respect, at least on the surface, by these hard-fighting veterans. They had endeared themselves to the citizens of Baltimore, who were now eager to compare the valiant and yet humble Christian boys of the South with the hawk-faced Yankees of Massachusetts and New York.

Far more than any diplomatic efforts of Benjamin, or cool leadership of Davis, the ordinary rank and file of the Army of Northern Virginia, so hard and remorseless in battle, had shown themselves, at heart, to be really nothing more than boys and young men, desperate for home, for the simple things in life, and in so doing had won Baltimore back to the South.

Already dozens of requests for the right to marry had come up from the ranks, and Lee had been forced to pass a strict injunction that such things would have to wait until the war ended, unless it could be proven that the couple had known each other before the war and were now, by this circumstance, reunited. As a gesture of this new joining of Maryland to the cause, both he and Davis had attended a wedding only the day before, between a young boy on Stuart's staff, the same Lieutenant Jenkins who had infiltrated into Baltimore, and the object of his affection, the charming young daughter of a Methodist minister, the couple separated for two long years. Their wedding had become the social event of the month and was widely reported in all the newspapers.

As he looked around the pavilion he saw young Jenkins, still dressed in his formal uniform, and as he caught the boy's eye, he smiled as the young man blushed and lowered his head, having come from his all too brief honeymoon to participate in the review.

The entourage settled down under the pavilion, the breeze sweeping in now cool, the storm front approaching. Orderlies and staff scurried about, offering fresh pastries, coffee, wine, raw oysters, and even small, crystal shot glasses of brandy.

President Davis, showing his delight at the proceedings, accepted a glass of French wine and raised the glass high.

'To the success of our cause," he announced.

The group stood, Lee taking a glass as well, though merely swallowing a drop or two for the toast

"And to France," Benjamin added. "May they soon stand by our side."

'To France!"

The group sat down, and for a moment there was only polite conversation, commentary about the grandeur of the review, and anticipation for the evening's festivities.

Davis, sitting beside Lee, leaned over.

"I must say, never have I seen the men so fit, so eager, General Lee."

"Thank you, sir, the past weeks have indeed been a tonic for them. Our boys deserved it after all they have accomplished."

Davis nodded, sipping from his glass of wine. Benjamin came around the table to join them. "The French consul is waiting to see us, sir," he said. "In a few minutes, Judah. After all, we can't go running to him."

Judah smiled.

"He finally shared with me the dispatch he sent to the Emperor Napoleon III."

Davis, eyes sharp, looked up at Benjamin.

"I transcribed it as best I could after meeting with him this morning." Judah reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper, which he then handed to Davis.

"His report predicts that by the middle of autumn the Army of Northern Virginia will meet and defeat the new army being created by Grant He also predicts that General Johnston in the West will recapture Vicksburg."

Davis said nothing. The report had just come in the day before that Johnston had indeed ventured such an attack, now that most of the Army of the Tennessee, except for Sherman's corps, had come east Sherman had handed Johnston a stunning defeat, routing his army and driving it clear across Mississippi and into northern Alabama.

"Well, the dispatch went out a week and a half ago," Davis said.

"Fortunately. I think that the dispatch, combined with the dozens of newspapers, both north and south, which were sent along with it, might do the trick. Napoleon's forces are stuck in Mexico. His promises to the Hapsburg have drawn them into the fray; there are even regiments of troops from Austria being dispatched to Mexico. If ever he has a chance to ensure his success and prestige in both Europe and the New World, it is now, at this moment He will commit to us because a Union victory would be a disaster for French policy. They would be forced to abandon Mexico if Lincoln wins. We are their only hope."