Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [54]
Keyes knew instinctively that Lee was serious, would not be there to waste anyone’s time. He opened Scott’s office door, said something Lee could not hear, then opened the door farther and stood aside.
“Thank you, Colonel Keyes. I am grateful.”
Scott sat back in his chair, watched Lee pull the door shut, and Lee saw there was no humor in the man’s face.
“General, forgive the intrusion. I have just spoken with Francis Blair. Permit me to be blunt, General, but I must assume you knew of this meeting.”
“Yes, Colonel, I knew. I also had a fairly clear notion of how you would respond.”
“Sir, I did not accept the offer. I could not . . . take up arms. . . .”
“An explanation is not necessary, Mr. Lee. I know your position. You are aware how much I admire you as a soldier. I believe the country has lost an opportunity here, the best use of perhaps its best commander.”
He stopped, and Lee saw his face grow darker, a sadness he had not seen before. Scott looked at him through red, tired eyes, the eyes of a man whose time is past.
“I also believe, Mr. Lee . . . Robert, if I may . . . that you have made the greatest mistake of your life, but I feared . . . it would be so.”
Lee sat down, did not want this, did not want the old man feeling this. “I regret if I have disappointed you. I understand that my duty . . .” He paused, carefully picked the words. “I understand that by stating my reasons for turning down this post, I have compromised my effectiveness as a commander. I have expressed my conclusion that I will not raise my sword against my own people. If I remain in the army, I may be asked, again, to do just that. It would force me to resign under orders.”
“Yes, Colonel, it would, and your career would conclude with disgrace. The army does not have room for those men who cannot answer the call. You have stated your position. Now you have only one course. I have always known you to be a man who would do what is right.”
Lee knew the next step, what he must do. He thought of his career, the years, the slow advances and thankless jobs. And Scott could not understand, could not see a soldier’s loyalty replaced by a different loyalty, to his home, his family. Lee thought, I have not been there, for Mary, for the children, but I must be there now.
“Sir, I will prepare a letter, which I will forward to you as quickly as possible.”
Lee did not want to look at the old man’s face. The bond that had always been between them would now be gone. He stood, stared down at the desk, bowed slightly, and Scott did not move, stayed back, sunk deeply in the big chair. There were no words, nothing was said, and Lee looked up, saw the old face once more, turned, softly wiped his eyes and went to the door.
ON APRIL 20, the same day Lee sent his letter of resignation to General Scott, the Virginia convention, in response to the President’s call for troops, voted overwhelmingly to secede from the Union.
10. JACKSON
April 1861
THEY WERE students, a hundred or more, but Jackson knew it was more like a mob. The flagpole of Washington University now carried the new flag of the rebellion, the Confederate flag, and the students cheered wildly as it waved with a sharp snap in the brisk spring breeze.
Jackson kept his distance from the crowd, moved past unnoticed, heard young speakers, voices of careless protest, the bravery of the untested, and he continued on, toward the home of the university president, Dr. Junkin.
There were a few students gathered outside the Junkin home, some calling out rude, hostile remarks. Jackson pushed his way through. They saw his uniform and there were a few cheers. The door was locked, but it immediately opened partway, and he was invited in with a brief greeting. It was Julia, Junkin’s youngest daughter, and Jackson saw the dark eyes, the fear. She took his hand, a brief squeeze.
“Major, thank you, thank you for coming. Father is—”
And from behind her, an unsteady voice, the bitterness of a man who has seen too much.
“Major, glad you could make