Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [70]
“Ah, yes, right here. Major, this army thanks you for your efforts on Mr. Hill’s behalf, but it is not necessary. He has already volunteered.”
Jackson nodded, said quietly, “Good . . . he knows his duty,” then he turned again.
Lee said, “Major, wait.”
Jackson froze, realized suddenly he had not saluted, spun around with his hand to the bill of his cap.
“No, Major, I mean . . . I just wanted to say, the state of Virginia is pleased to have your services. You are a valuable asset to her defense.”
“General, duty has called me, and I can think of nothing that will please the Almighty more than my performing my duty. I will do whatever I must do to defeat my enemies.”
Lee watched the serious face, saw something new, a grimness he had not seen before, had not seen in the others.
“Major, the men you will command are signing up for one-year terms. Most here say that is far too long, that this will be a brief affair, that we may be done with this business after one good scrap. It is the consensus among the political leaders here that the Federal forces will not fight, that with our first good show of strength, they will turn and run. I do not share their view, I would not count on that, Major. Nothing would please me more, but I fear this fight will not be brief.”
“General, I will do everything in my power to make it as brief as possible. If they do not run, then they will die.”
Lee saw the stern face, staring beyond him, looking at the wall above his head. “Very well, Major. May God be with you.”
Jackson turned once more, marched from the office, and Lee heard him speaking, heard soft words hidden by the sharp sound of his boots on the oak floor, and Lee could tell only that it was a prayer.
THE NEW Confederate administration understood the strategic need to defend Virginia. Lee’s decision to occupy the key geographic points, from the western mountains to the vulnerable coastline and river systems, was supported by Davis’s government. Lee had quickly established strong posts at Harper’s Ferry and at the naval yards at Norfolk. The Federal Army had abandoned both positions, had attempted to burn what equipment was left behind, but alert militia units had rescued the materials, which were vital to Lee’s plans for equipping his troops.
It was only logical that since Virginia was of such general importance to the defense of the rest of the Confederacy, their relationship should be formalized. Lee and Letcher had been able to convince President Davis that Virginia would bear the brunt of the Federal Army’s moves, and thus they had few objections when, after Lee had established effective lines of defense, the rapidly organizing army of the Confederacy began to assume control.
As this balance shifted, Virginians whom Lee had appointed, men who filled necessary commands in the Virginia forces, began to make the transfer, accepting equivalent rank and positions in the Confederate Army. While politically minded men jockeyed for positions of command, Lee spent his days with the vast mundane details of building an army, and while the growing corps of officers began to make grandiose plans for the quick defeat of their enemy, Lee was struggling with finding enough flour, blankets, and cartridges for the men.
By early May, Lee had reached a point of near exhaustion and a sense of growing frustration with his own duties. There was simply too much to do.
On the floor beside his desk was an old brown cardboard box, and Lee tossed another pile of letters down, watched them bounce and flood over the sides. He thought, I will need another box. He began to sort another stack, separating the official messages from the governor and President Davis from troops reports and other military matters. Into the box had gone the private letters, the flowery recommendations, the long insistent lessons on warfare from people who had read about Napoleon, or who had their own theories for whipping these soft