CHAPTER XLII
In Lee's simple tent on the battlefield amid the ghostly trees of the wilderness his Adjutant-General, Walter Taylor, sat writing rapidly.
Sam, his ebony face shining, stood behind trying to look over his shoulder. He couldn't make it out and his curiosity got the better of him.
"What dat yer writin' so hard, Gin'l Taylor?"
Without lifting his head the Adjutant continued to write.
"Orders of promotion for gallantry in battle, Sam."
"Is yer gwine ter write one fer my young Marse Robbie?"
Taylor paused and looked up. The light of admiration overspread his face.
"General Lee never promotes his sons or allows them on his staff, Sam. General Custis Lee, General Rooney Lee, and Captain Robbie won their spurs without a word from him. They won by fighting."
"Yassah! Dey sho's been some fightin' in dis here wilderness. Hopes ter God we git outen here pretty quick. Gitten too close tergedder ter suit me."
The clatter of a horse's hoofs rang out in the little clearing in front of the tent.
Taylor looked up again.
"See if that's Stuart. General Lee's expecting him."
Sam peered out the door of the tent.
"Dey ain't no plume in his hat an' dey ain't no banjo man wid him.
Nasah. Tain't Gin'l Stuart."
"All right. Pull up a stool."
"Yassah!"
Sam unfolded a camp stool and placed it at the table. A sentinel approached and called:
"Senator William C. Rives of the Confederate Congress to see General
Lee."
Taylor rose.
"Show him in."
The Senator entered with a quick, nervous excitement he could not conceal.
"Colonel Taylor—"
"Senator."
The men clasped hands and Taylor continued to watch the nervous manner of his caller.
"My coming from Richmond is no doubt a surprise?"
"Naturally. We're in pretty close quarters with Grant here to-night—"
Rives raised his hand in a gesture of despair.
"No closer than our Government in Richmond is with the end at this moment, in my judgment. I couldn't wait. I had to come to-night. You have called an informal council as I requested?"
"The moment I got your message an hour ago."
Taylor caught his excitement and bent close.
"What is it, Senator?"
Rives hesitated, glanced at the doors of the tent and answered rapidly.
"The Confederate Congress has just held a secret session without the knowledge of President Davis—"
He drew from his pocket a letter and handed it to the Adjutant.
"You will see from this letter of the presiding officer my credentials.
They have sent me as their agent on an important mission to General
Lee."
He paused as Taylor carefully read the letter.
"How soon can I see him?"
"I'm expecting him in a few minutes," Taylor answered. "He's riding on the front lines trying to feel out Grant's next move. He is very anxious over it."
"This battle was desperate?" Rives asked nervously.
"Terrific."
"Our losses in the two days?"
"More than ten thousand."
"Merciful God—"
"Grant's losses were far greater," Taylor added briskly.
"No matter, Taylor, no matter!" he cried in anguish, springing to his feet. He fought for control of his emotions and hurried on.
"The maws of those cannon now are insatiate! We can't afford to lose ten thousand men from our thin ranks in two days. If your army suspected for one moment the real situation in Richmond, they'd quit and we'd be lost."
"They only ask for General Lee's orders, Senator. Their faith in our leader is sublime."
"And that's our only hope," Rives hastened to add. "General Lee may save us. And he is the only man who can do it."
He stopped and studied Taylor closely. He spoke with some diffidence.
"The faith of his officers in him remains absolutely unshaken?"
"They worship him."
"My appeal will be solely to him. But I may need help."
"I've asked Alexander and Gordon to come. General Gordon did great work to-day. It was his command that broke Hancock's lines and took prisoners. I've just slated him for further promotion. Stuart is already on the way here to report the situation on the right where his cavalry is operating."
The ring of two horses' hoofs echoed.
"If Stuart will only back me!" Rives breathed.
Outside the Cavalry Commander was having trouble with Sweeney, his minstrel follower, an expert banjo player.
Stuart laughed heartily at his fears.
"Come on, Sweeney. Don't be a fool."
The minstrel man still held back and Stuart continued to urge.
"Come on in, Sweeney. Don't be bashful. I promised you shall see General
Lee and you shall. Come on!"
Taylor and Rives stood in the door of the tent watching the conflict.
"Never be afraid of a great man, Sweeney!" Stuart went on. "The greater the man the easier it is to get along with him. General Lee wears no scarlet in his coat, no plume in his hat, no gold braid on his uniform. He's as plain as a gray mouse—"
Stuart laughed and whispered:
"He's too great to need anything to mark his rank. But he never frowns on my gay colors."
"He knows," Taylor rejoined, "that it's your way of telling the glory of the cause."
"Sure! He just laughs at my foolishness and gives me an order to lick a crowd that outnumbers me, three to one."
He took hold of Sweeney's arm.
"Don't be afraid, old boy. Marse Robert won't frown on your banjo.
He'll just smile as he recalls what the cavalry did in our last battle.
Minstrel man, make yourself at home."
Sweeney timidly touched the strings, and Stuart wheeled toward Rives.
"Well, Senator, how goes it in Richmond?"
Rives answered with eager anxiety. His words were not spoken in despair but with an undertone of desperate appeal.
"Dark days have come, General Stuart. And great events are pending.
Events of the utmost importance to the army, to the country, to General
Lee."
"Just say General Lee and let it go at that," Stuart laughed. "He is the army and the country."
He turned to Taylor.
"Where's Marse Robert?"
"Inspecting the lines. He fears a movement to turn our flank at
Spottsylvania Court House."
"My men are right there, watching like owls. They'll catch the first rustle of a leaf by Sheridan's cavalry."
"I hope so."
"Never fear. Well, Sweeney, while we wait for General Lee, Senator Rives needs a little cheer. We've medicine in that box for every ill that man is heir to. Things look black in Richmond, he tells us. All right. Give us the old familiar tune—Hard Times and Wuss Er Comin'!—Go it!"
Sweeney touched his strings sharply.
"You don't mind, sir?" he asked Taylor.
"Certainly not. I like it."
Sentinels, orderlies, aides and scouts gathered around the door as Sweeney played and sang with Stuart. The Cavalryman's spirit was contagious. Before the song had died away, they were all singing the chorus in subdued tones. Sweeney ended with Stuart's favorite—Rock of Ages.
General John B. Gordon joined the group, followed by General E.P.
Alexander.
Taylor called the generals together.
"Senator Rives, gentlemen, is the bearer of an important message from the Confederate Congress to General Lee. I have asked you informally to join him in this meeting."
Rives entered his appeal.
"I am going to ask you to help me to-night in paying the highest tribute to General Lee in our power."
Gordon responded promptly.
"We shall honor ourselves in honoring him, sir."
"Always," Alexander agreed.
Rives plunged into the heart of his mission.
"Gentlemen, so desperate is the situation of the South that our only hope lies in our great Commander. The Confederate Congress has sent me to offer him the Dictatorship—"
"You don't mean it?" Stuart exploded.
"Will you back me?"
The Cavalry leader grasped his hand.
"Yours to count on, sir!"
"Yes," Gordon joined.
"We'll back you!" Alexander cried.
Rives' face brightened.
"If he will only accept. The question is how to approach him?"
"It must be done with the utmost care," Alexander warned.
"Exactly." Rives nodded. "Shall I announce to him it once the vote of
Congress conferring on him the supreme power?"
"Not if you can approach him more carefully," Alexander cautioned.
"I can first propose that as Commanding General he might accept the peace proposals which Francis Preston Blair has brought from Washington—"
"What kind of peace proposals?" Gorden asked sharply.
"He proposes to end the war immediately by an armistice, and arrange for the joint invasion of Mexico by the combined armies of the North and South under the command of General Lee."
Alexander snapped at the suggestion.
"By all means suggest the armistice first. General Lee won his spurs in Mexico. The plan might fire his imagination—as it would have fired the soul of Caesar or Napoleon. If he refuses to go over the head of Davis, you can then announce the vote of Congress giving him supreme power."
The general suddenly paused at the familiar sound of Traveler's hoofbeat.
The officers stood and saluted as Lee entered. He was dressed in his full field gray uniform of immaculate cut and without spot. He wore his sword, high boots and spurs and his field glasses were thrown across his broad shoulders.
He glanced at the group in slight surprise and drew Stuart aside.
"I sent for you, General Stuart, to say that I am expecting a courier at any moment who may report that General Grant will move on Spottsylvania Court House."
He paused in deep thought.
"If so, Sheridan will throw the full force of his cavalry on your lines, to turn our right and circle Richmond."
Stuart's body stiffened.
"I'm ready, sir. He may reach Yellow Tavern. He'll never go past it."
In low, tense words Lee said:
"I'm depending on you, sir."
Stuart saluted in silence.
Lee turned back into the group and Taylor explained:
"I have called an informal meeting at the request of Senator Rives."
Lee smiled.
"Oh, I see. A council of both War and State."
Rives came forward and the Commander grasped his hand.
"Always glad to see you, Senator. What can we do for you?"
"Everything, sir. Can we enter at once into our conference?"
"The quicker the better. General Grant may drop in on us at any moment without an invitation."
Rives smiled wanly.
"General Lee, we face the gravest crisis of the war."
"No argument is needed to convince me of that, sir. Grant's men have gripped us with a ferocity never known before."
"And our boys," Alexander added, "in all the struggle have never been such stark fighters as to-day."
"I agree with you," Lee nodded. "But Grant is getting ready to fight again to-morrow morning—not next month. His policy is new, and it's clear. He plans to pound us to death in a series of quick, successive blows. His man power is exhaustless. We can't afford to lose many men. He can. An endless blue line is streaming to the front."
"And that's why I'm here to-night, General," Rives said gravely.
"Grant is now in supreme command of all the Armies of the Union. While he moves on Richmond, Butler is sweeping up the James and Sherman is pressing on Atlanta. We have lost ten thousand men in two-days' battle. In the next we'll lose ten thousand more. In the next ten thousand more—"
"We must fight, sir. I have invaded the North twice. But I stand on the defense now. I have no choice."
"That remains to be seen, General Lee," Rives said with a piercing look.
"What do you mean?"
"A few days ago, your old friend, Francis Preston Blair, entered our lines and came to Richmond on a mission of peace. He has now before Mr. Davis and his Cabinet a plan to end the war. He proposes that we stop fighting, unite and invade Mexico to defend the Monroe Doctrine. Maximilian of Austria has just been proclaimed Emperor in a conspiracy backed by Napoleon. The suggestion is that we join armies under your command, dethrone Maximilian, push the soldiers of Napoleon into the sea, and restore the rule of the people on the American Continent."
Lee looked at him steadily.
"Mr. Davis refuses to listen to this proposal?"
"Only on the basis of the continued division of our country. Lincoln
naturally demands that we come back into the Union first, and march on
Mexico afterwards. Mr. Davis refuses to come back into the Union first.
And so we end where we began—unless we can get help from you, General
Lee—"
"Well?"
"The Confederate Congress has sent me as their spokesman to make a proposition to you."
He handed Lee the letter from the Congress.
"Will you issue as Commanding General an order for an armistice to arrange the joint invasion of Mexico?"
"You mean take it on myself to go over the head of Mr. Davis, and issue this order without his knowledge?"
"Exactly. We could not take him into our confidence."
"But Mr. Davis is my superior officer and he is faithfully executing the laws."
"You will not proclaim an armistice, then?"
Lee spoke with irritation.
"How can you ask me to go over the head of my Chief with such an order?"
Alexander pressed forward.
"But you might consider a proclamation looking to peace under this plan—if you were in a position of supreme power?"
"I have no such power. I advised our people to make peace before I invaded Pennsylvania. I have urged it more than once, but they cannot see it. And I must do the work given me from day to day."
"We now propose to give to you the sole decision as to what that work shall be."
"How, sir?"
"I am here to-night, General, as the agent of our Government, to confer on you this power. The Congress has unanimously chosen you as Dictator of the Confederacy with supreme power over both the civil and military branches of the Government."
"And well done!" cried Gordon.
"We back them!" echoed Alexander.
"Hurrah for the Confederate Congress," shouted Stuart—"the first signs of brains they've shown in many a day—"
He caught himself at a glance from Rives.
"Excuse me, Senator—I didn't mean quite that."
Lee fixed Rives with his brilliant eyes.
"The Confederate Congress has no authority to declare & Dictatorship."
"We have."
"By what law?"
"By the law of necessity, sir. The civil government in Richmond has become a farce. I acknowledge it sorrowfully. Your soldiers are ill clothed, half starved, and the power to recruit your ranks is gone. The people have lost faith in their civil leaders. Disloyalty is rampant. In the name of ultra State Sovereignty, treason is everywhere threatening. Soldiers are taken from your army by State authorities on the eve of battle. Men are deserting in droves and defy arrest. You have justly demanded the death penalty for desertion. It has been denied. Bands of deserters now plunder, burn and rob as they please. You are our only hope. You are the idol of our people. At your call they will rally. Men will pour into your ranks, and we can yet crush our enemies, or invade Mexico as you may decide."
"He's right, General," Gordon agreed. "The South will stand by you to a man."
Alexander added with deep reverence:
"The people believe in you, General Lee, as they believe in God."
A dreamy look overspread Lee's face.
"Their faith is misplaced, sir! God alone decides the fate of nations. And God, not your commanding General, will decide the fate of the South. The thing that appalls me is that we have no luck. For in spite of numbers, resources, generalship—the unknown factor in war is luck. The North has had it all. At Shiloh at the moment of a victory that would have ended Grant's career, Albert Sydney Johnson, our ablest general, was shot and Grant escaped. At the battle of Chancellorsville in these very woods, Jackson at the moment of his triumph-Jackson my right arm—was shot by his own men. To-day Longstreet falls in the same way when he is about to repeat his immortal deed—"
He paused.
"The South has had no luck!"
Alexander eagerly protested.
"I don't agree with you, sir. God has given the South Lee as her Commander. Your genius is equal to a hundred thousand men. And in all our terrible battles, at the head of your men, again and again, as you were to-day, with bullets whistling around you, you've lived a charmed life. You're here to-night strong in body and mind, without a scratch. Don't tell me, sir, that we haven't had luck!"
Stuart broke in.
"You're the biggest piece of luck that ever befell an army."
Lee rose.
"I appreciate your confidence and your love, gentlemen. But I've made many tragic mistakes, and tried to find an abler man to take my place."
"There's no such man!" Stuart boomed. "Give the word to-night and every soldier in this army would follow you into the jaws of hell!"
Lee's eyes were lifted dreamily.
"And you ask me to blot out the liberties of our people by a single act of usurpation?"
Alexander lifted his hand.
"Only for a moment, General, that we may restore them in greater glory.
The truth is the Confederate Government is not fitted for revolution.
Let's win this war and fix it afterwards."
"I do not believe either in military statesmen or political generals.
The military should be subordinate always to the civil power—"
"But Congress," Rives broke in, "speaking for the people, offers you supreme power. Mr. Davis has not proven himself strong enough for the great office he holds."
Lee flared at this assertion.
"And if he has not, sir, who gave me the right to sit in judgment upon my superior officer and condemn him without trial? Mr. Davis is the victim of this unhappy war. I say this, though, that he differs with me on vital issues. I urged the abolition of Slavery. He opposed it. So did your Congress. I urged the uncovering of Richmond and the concentration of our forces into one great army for an offensive—"
Rives interrupted.
"We ask you to take the supreme power and decide these questions."
Lee replied with a touch of anger.
"But I may be wrong in my policies. Mr. Davis is a man of the highest character, devoted soul and body to the principles to which he has pledged his life. He is a statesman of the foremost rank. He is a trained soldier, a West Point graduate. He is a man of noble spirit—courageous, frank, positive. A great soul throbs within his breast. He has done as well in his high office as any other man could have done—"
He looked straight at Rives.
"We left the Union, sir, because our rights had been invaded. Our revolution is justified by this fact alone. You ask me to do the thing that caused us to revolt. To brush aside the laws which our people have ordained and set up a Dictatorship with the power of life and death over every man, woman and child. For three years we have poured out our blood in a sacred cause. We are fighting for our liberties under law, or we are traitors, not revolutionists. We are fighting for order, justice, principles, or we are fighting for nothing—"
A courier dashed to the door of the tent and handed Lee a message which he read with a frown.
"This discussion is closed, gentlemen. General Grant is moving on Spottsylvania Court House. My business is to get there first. My work is not to jockey for place or power. It is to fight. Move your forces at once!"