Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [50]
Lee took another breath, did not speak, looked at the sharp eyes of Keyes, a man named to a position Lee had turned down years ago, secretary to Commanding General Scott.
Lee understood, he was back in Washington. All the reasons he had for not settling into a position here were more plain than ever. Opinions rattled through these offices like dried bones, and facts were often disregarded if they caused a conflict with rumor.
“I have an appointment with the commanding general. Will you kindly inform him I am here?”
Keyes stood, could not hide a sneer, retreated behind a door and then returned, saying, “Colonel, the general has decided to see you now.”
Lee did not answer, walked past Keyes’s desk and into the bright, sunlit office of General Winfield Scott.
Scott sat in a huge leather chair, watched Lee with a slight tilt of his head, then stood with a painful effort. Lee saw the stiff movement, the slow struggle. Scott held out a huge, worn hand, smiled with a warmth Lee remembered well, and the two men sat, facing each other across the shiny plane of Scott’s oak desk.
“I see that look, Colonel. It’s the same look I get from the President. I’m what is referred to around Washington as an old soldier. There is no kindness in the description. Most of these fools have no idea what old means to a real soldier. They assume it means it’s time to retire. I rather take it as an accomplishment, a mark of survival. There are a lot of young soldiers.”
Lee studied the old red face, the deep lines, the gray hair now thinner, and realized that he had never seen Scott so fragile . . . so unkempt.
“Sir, it is good to see you again. I must say, things are . . . difficult . . . in the field. I hope the general is maintaining his command—”
“Enough, Colonel. I’d prefer it if you didn’t speak to me like you’re speaking to Davy Twiggs. Yes, we have some problems. Big problems. But we have good men in this army, men who are used to solving big problems. Men like you, Mr. Lee. That’s why you’re here.”
Until this moment, Lee did not know why he had been recalled from Texas, had considered many alternatives: his own weak performance, Twiggs’s dislike of him, the shifting politics in Washington. It had not occurred to him that Scott had called him there for a specific duty.
“General, I am happy to be at your service.”
“Well, maybe so, maybe not. Tell me, Colonel, what are your feelings about this rebellion? Your home is in the South. How do you feel about what is going on?”
“Sir, forgive me, but I am curious why so many people assume that because Virginia sits below the Potomac, we are in a tight alliance with the cotton states. I do not see Virginians making speeches such as anything prevailing in South Carolina or Mississippi, or Texas. Since my return, I am relieved to see that Virginia does not have the secessionist passion that has infected the deep South.”
“There is slavery in Virginia, Colonel. How do you feel about that?”
“I believe in emancipation, but I believe it is ultimately in God’s hands. I do not agree with the radicals of the deep South. And, I must say, General, I also do not agree with the talk in the North, the calls for radical abolition, made by people who have no involvement with the situation, who propose no solution to the problem.”
“Colonel, how did you feel about General Twiggs giving in so easily to the rebellion in Texas?”
Lee looked down at his hands, turned his palms up, then over, said in a low voice, “I was outraged, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Colonel. You might be interested to know that General Twiggs has been relieved. Damned fool.”
“I had not heard that, sir.”
“Colonel, if you had been in command there, in Texas, what would you have done? Would you have held out, possibly confronted by an armed force? Would you have fired on civilians?”
Lee absorbed the question. He had hoped he would never make that decision, had considered the utter lunacy of being placed in that position, had tried to maintain his faith that it would never happen.
“I take it, Colonel, that by your hesitation in answering,