Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [67]
Johnston stood up again, tried to move around the room, stepped on a young lieutenant’s foot, stumbled, said angrily, “All right, enough. Out of here, all of you! Outside! This is the man’s home, not a damned staff room.”
The officers jumped up, filed quickly out the front door, and Hancock smiled. He looked at Armistead, who watched Johnston, followed him with his eyes back to the chair.
Armistead said, “You have been replaced.”
Johnston looked up, did not acknowledge Armistead’s words. “They’re like damned children,” he said. “No, not true. Children will go off and do what they damned well please. They’re more like pets. Won’t move a bit until you tell ’em to.”
There was a quiet pause. Johnston leaned back, rested his hands on his thighs, looked at the floor.
“They’re good men. A good staff. Finest in the army. Wish I knew what to do with ’em. They’re too damned loyal. Gave up their careers to stay with me. Not very smart, but to a man, not one of them would listen. They all resigned.”
Armistead sat in one of the vacant chairs, said again, “You’ve been replaced.”
“Yes, Major, I have been replaced. No, no, make that I have been removed. A quick, clean operation. They were afraid, I guess.” He stared down again, sagged into the chair, and Hancock saw now a growing sadness.
“Excuse me, General, but they were afraid of . . . what?”
“Captain, let’s get one thing straight right here and now. I am no longer ‘General.’ I am Mister Albert Sidney Johnston, private citizen. Your new commander is old Bull Sumner himself. They sent that old man out here to boot me out of my office. No formal notice, no notice at all, he just . . . arrives. Comes busting into my office . . .”
Hancock said nothing, thought, Of course, they were thinking of Twiggs, the surrender of Texas, and had to act quickly so that Johnston would not do the same. But Johnston was not Davy Twiggs.
“Damn them. Damn them all. I kept my honor, gentlemen. I did my duty, just like I said I would. I had no mind to leave until I was replaced, even offered to stay around awhile, help the new people get settled in. They snuck up on me. I thought . . . hell, I thought for a while they were going to arrest me! Hell of a way to end a career.”
They sat without speaking, a long pause until Armistead said, “You’re going to stay here? What about Texas . . . your home?”
“My home is gone, Major. Burnt down. Got a letter from my cousin. Local militia most likely, thought I was staying loyal to the army. Might go back there yet, but thought this might work out, might be a nice place to live.”
“What about the rebel . . . the Confederate Army? I saw a newspaper, your name on a list, possible commanders.”
Johnston looked at Hancock, and Hancock suddenly realized this conversation could be dangerous, that Johnston’s plans could be information he might have to report. And Johnston knew it.
“Tell me, Captain, are you planning on joining Mr. Lincoln’s war?”
“If you mean, am I planning to leave California? I hope so. I have requested a new assignment. Forgive me, General, but I sent the request directly to the War Department, and to General Scott. I thought there might be a greater delay if I sent it through your office.”
“Don’t explain, Mr. Hancock. We’re all looking out for our own best interests these days. And what about you, Major? I did receive your resignation.”
Armistead shifted in his chair, and Hancock knew he felt uncomfortable. It had been unspoken, until now. Hancock knew the papers had gone north, but they had not discussed it, would not argue.
“I will be leaving in two weeks. There’s a ship stopping here, on the way to the Isthmus.” He looked at Hancock. “I’m sorry, Win. I just learned of the ship yesterday. It seems like the best opportunity.”
Hancock stared at him, had known Armistead’s decision was made the instant the news of Virginia reached them, had gone through all the feelings, the anger, the sadness, the gut-wrenching frustration that this was all complete and utter madness.
Armistead looked at him, then away.