Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [61]
“Whatever is required, sir.”
“Good, good. This is a ghastly business, Mr. Lee. We did everything, everything to convince the convention to stay neutral, but as I’m sure you were made aware, when Mr. Lincoln called on us, on Virginians, to supply troops to his army, well, sir, the response was . . . well, I must say, even I began to feel the call to secede, to defend against this kind of tyranny. Well, I seem to be making a speech.”
There was laughter from around the office, good-natured jabs at Letcher’s political side. Lee tried to relax, to flow into the good feelings, but could not, felt himself pull together, deflecting their good humor.
“Sir, may I inquire as to my first duties? Do you . . . is there a plan, a strategy? Pardon my directness, sir, but I need to be informed on just what is happening.”
“Yes, certainly you do, Mr. Lee. The government of the new confederation of southern states is currently quartered in Montgomery, and is seeking to reach an agreement with Virginia to relocate here, in Richmond. They are also requesting that the Provisional Army forces, which you will command, be incorporated into a central army, a joining of all the state forces. This matter is still under some discussion.”
Lee heard murmurs from around the room, sensed this was a difficult topic.
“I believe you are well acquainted with the President of the Confederated States, Mr. Davis, Jefferson Davis?”
“Yes, sir, we attended West Point together. I haven’t been in touch with him in a number of years.”
“No matter. He has great respect for you, Mr. Lee, and I expect you will be working closely with him and his people on establishing our defense. It is likely, Mr. Lee, as you may already know, that with Virginia’s siding with the Southern cause, we are clearly the front door to any invasion force. Your first duties will be quite explicit. Form a line of defense.”
There were some nods of approval, and one man, a large, round man with a deep raspy voice, said, “Hit them. Hit them hard.”
Another round man, shorter, with a higher-pitched voice, said, “Yes, we must attack them, quickly. Show them they can’t push us!”
Lee listened, respectfully, said nothing. Of course, it would be popular to go on the offensive, the people would cheer the marching troops, the call to battle.
Letcher cut off the discussion, saying, “Good, good, well, Mr. Lee will begin his duties as quickly as we can formalize the post. If there is nothing else, Mr. Lee?”
“Gentlemen, I look forward to serving the Commonwealth of Virginia, and I will defend her from harm as best I can.”
There were more murmurs, approving, confident. He stood, ready to leave, waited for others to rise. As he reached the wide door, the big man placed a heavy arm on his shoulders and breathed a thick voice into his ear.
“Remember, hit them hard!”
12. HANCOCK
May 1861
THE ROUTE started west in Kansas, Fort Leavenworth, where the last of the telegraph wires stopped. The man rode hard and fast and as long as the horse would carry him, then, trading one horse for another, climbed toward the great mountains, following the trails through the high passes. The horse carried him quickly over the shrinking ice fields, slippery patches of melting snow that were just now warming under the springtime sun. There were stations along the way with fresh horses, small and crude outposts, and the man would hand over his heavy cloth sacks, the precious mail, newspapers, to a new man, who would take a fresh horse farther, higher, then down through the hard red rocks of the western flatlands, across the plains of Utah and Nevada, along the edges of small rivers that cut through the dry sands. He would climb again, into California, the breathtaking views across the Sierras, more snow now, and the horse slowed, could not move as quickly as the rider pushed him. Often it did not survive,