Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [85]
Randolph spoke again. “Sir, I must disagree with your plan. If you pull out of Norfolk, we will lose the naval yard, the ships that are currently under construction. We will concede the absolute domination of the seas to the Federal navy. Their gunboats would then move up the James River unimpeded and be in position to shell the city.”
“General Lee?” Davis said. “Do you have an opinion regarding General Johnston’s plan?”
Lee knew that Johnston was too stubborn to hear alternatives, could not be persuaded away from his own plans. The friction between him and Davis was largely a result of Davis’s insistence on keeping a hand in Johnston’s operations. Johnston, rather than argue, would simply cut off communications, leaving Davis and Lee totally ignorant of planning and troop movements.
“Mr. President, I do not believe it is a wise course to remove our forces from the Southern coastline. We would be offering the Federal Army uncontested control of Savannah and Charleston. We are in a serious situation in Tennessee and Mississippi, and troops cannot be spared.”
Davis nodded, said nothing. Johnston still stood, glared at Lee, said, “We have no choice but to concentrate our forces here, to defend Richmond, and if possible to strike out at the Federal Army from a strong position.”
Lee glanced at Longstreet, knew of his good work at Manassas. He looked back to Davis, waited for some sign, some hint that Davis was going to take a stand. But the president sat still, leaned his head against his hand and stared straight ahead. Now, Lee realized that Davis would act when Johnston was not there. He had been pressed into silence by Johnston’s grand pronouncement, would not enter into simple squabbles, on which Johnston seemed to thrive. Lee realized that this was Davis’s way of maintaining control. The orders would be issued after the meeting was over, and Davis would not have to explain, could be direct, authoritative on paper, and not be challenged.
Lee felt a growing frustration, a sense that no one here was really in charge, that Johnston would go back to his troops and do precisely what he wanted, and if Davis pushed him, he would simply ignore it. Finally he spoke, carefully picking his words.
“General Johnston, it is my feeling that if we begin mass withdrawals, we will announce to the enemy our plans to settle into a defensive posture around Richmond. We will open up all avenues for him to move his troops, concentrating at his own pace and with his own methods. Is it not possible that, since we have already seen that General McClellan is prone to great caution, we might delay him even further by vigorously defending the peninsula? Is it not possible that we could then find opportunities to attack him, far from Richmond?”
Johnston smiled slightly, said, “Well, General Lee, I suppose from your vantage point here, that may seem like a workable strategy, but you can be sure that for us in the field, who confront the guns of the enemy, these decisions must take into account the overwhelming forces that face us. . . .”
Lee clenched his teeth, did not look at Johnston, heard the words flow out with oily smoothness, the patronizing tone that Johnston would use to disarm any disagreement to his plans. The men had been friends for thirty-five years, had gone through the Point together, through Mexico, and now Lee knew it would never be again. Johnston was alone, had cut off everyone, had placed himself in an isolated position from which he could not be moved.
Randolph spoke again, repeated his position, and General Smith made a comment, lamenting the thinness of his lines. Lee withdrew further, began to see the others from a long distance, the voices hollow and droning. Davis still would not speak, and Lee again watched Longstreet, who focused on each speaker with a determined stare.
The meeting lasted all afternoon, and finally Davis suggested a break for the evening meal. The men rose, limbered stiff legs, and began to file from the President’s office.
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