Books: The Man in Gray
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Thomas Dixon >> The Man in Gray
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"I done come back. Lemme come in a minute!"
Ben was not sure. He picked up a heavy cane, held it in his right hand
and cautiously opened the door with his left, as Sam entered.
The old man dropped the cane and stepped back in dumb amazement. It was
some time before he spoke.
"Name er Gawd, Sam--hit is you."
"Sho, hit's me!"
"What yer doin' here?"
"I come to see my old marster when I hears all dis talk 'bout war. Whar
is he?"
Ben lifted his eyes to the ceiling and spoke in a solemn tone:
"Up dar in his room all night trampin' back an' forth lak er lion in
de cage, waitin' fur Marse Stuart ter fetch de news fum Richmond 'bout
secessun--"
"Secessun?"
Ben nodded--and raised his eyes in a dreamy look.
"Some say Ole Virginy gwine ter stay in de Union. Some say she's a gwine
ter secede. De Convenshun in Richmon' wuz votin' on hit yestiddy. Marse
Stuart gone ter town ter fetch de news ter Arlington."
Sam stepped close and searched Ben's face.
"What's my ole marster dat set me free gwine ter do?"
"Dat's what everybody's axin. He bin prayin' up dar all night."
Sam glanced toward the stairway and held his silence for a while. He
spoke finally with firm conviction.
"Well, I'se gwine wid him. Ef he go wid de Union, I goes. Ef he go wid
ole Virginy, I go wid ole Virginy. Whichever way _he_ go, dat's de
_right_ way--"
"Dat's so, too!" Ben responded fervently.
Sam advanced to the old butler with the quick step of the days when he
was his efficient helper.
"What ye want me ter do?"
Ben led him to the portico and pointed down the white graveled way to
Washington.
"Run doun de road ter de rise er dat hill an' stay dar. De minute yer
see a hoss cross dat bridge--hit's Marse Stuart. Yer fly back here an'
tell me--"
Sam nodded and disappeared. Ben hurried back into the hall, as Mary and
her mother came down the stairs.
Mrs. Lee was struggling to control her fears.
"No sign of Lieutenant Stuart yet, Ben?"
"Nomum. I'se er watchin'."
"Look again and see if there's any dust on that long stretch beyond the
river--"
Ben shook his head.
"Yassam, I look."
He passed out the front door still wagging his head in deep sympathy for
the stricken mistress of the great house.
Mary slipped her arm around her mother, and used the pet name she spoke
in moments of great joy and sorrow.
"Oh, Mim dear, you mustn't worry so!"
Her mother's lips trembled. She tried to be strong and failed. The tears
came at last streaming down her cheeks.
"I can't help it, darling. Life hangs on this message--our home--"
She paused and her eyes wandered about the familiar room and its
furnishings.
"You know how I love this home. It's woven into the very fiber of my
heart. Our future--all that we have on earth--it's more than I can
bear--"
The daughter drew the dear face to her lips.
"But why try to take it all on our shoulders, dearest? We must leave
Papa to fight this out alone. We can't decide it for him."
The mother brushed her tears away and responded cheerfully.
"Yes, I know, dear. Your father didn't leave his room all day yesterday.
He ate no dinner. No supper. All night the tramp of his feet overhead
has only been broken when he fell on his knees to pray--"
Her voice wandered off as in a half dream. She paused, and then rushed
on impetuously.
"Why, why can't we hear from Richmond? The Convention should have voted
before noon yesterday. And we've waited all night--"
"The authorities may be holding back the news."
"But why should they suppress _such_ news? The world must know."
She stopped suddenly--as if stunned by the thought that oppressed her.
She seized Mary's hand, and asked tensely:
"What do you think, dear? Has Virginia left the Union?"
A quick answer was on the young lips. She had a very clear opinion. She
had talked to Stuart. And his keen mind had seen the inevitable. She
didn't have the heart to tell her mother. She feigned a mind blank from
weariness.
"I can't think, honey. I'm too tired."
Ben came back shaking his gray head.
"Nomum. Dey ain't no sign on de road yet."
The waiting wife and mother cried in an anguish she could not control.
"Why--why--why?"
Ben sought to distract her thoughts with the habit of house control. He
spoke in his old voice of friendly scolding.
"Ain't Marse Robert comin' doun to his coffee, M'am?"
"Not yet, Ben. I couldn't persuade him." The mistress caught the effort
of her faithful servant to help in his humble way and it touched her.
She was making a firm resolution to regain her self-control when a
distant cry was heard from the roadway.
"Uncle Ben!"
"What's dat?" the old man asked.
"He's coming?" Mrs. Lee gasped.
"I dunno, M'am. I hears sumfin!"
Sam's cry echoed near the house now in growing excitement.
"Uncle Ben--Uncle Ben!"
"See, Ben, see quick--" Mary cried.
"Yassam. He's comin', sho. He's seed him."
The mother's face was uplifted in prayer.
"God's will be done!"
The words came in a bare whisper. And then as if in answer to the cry of
her heart she caught new hope and turned to her daughter.
"You know, dear, the first Convention voted against Secession!"
Sam reached the door and met Ben.
"Uncle Ben--he's a comin'--Marse Stuart's horse! I seen him 'way 'cross
de ribber fust--des one long, white streak er dust ez fur ez de eye can
reach!"
The mother gripped Mary's arm with cruel force. The strain was again
more than she could bear.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear, what have they done? What have they done?"
Ben entered the hall holding himself erect with the dignity of one who
must bear great sorrows with his people. The mistress called to him
weakly:
"Tell Colonel Lee, Ben."
The old man bowed gravely.
"Yassam. Right away, M'am."
Ben hurried to call his master as Sam edged into the front door and
smiled at his mistress.
Mrs. Lee saw and recognized him for the first time. His loyalty touched
her deeply in the hour of trial. She extended her hand in warm greeting.
"Why, _Sam_, you've come home!"
"Yassam. I come back ter stan' by my folks when dey needs me."
Mary's eyes were misty as she smiled her welcome.
"You're a good boy, Sam."
"Yassam. Marse Robert teach me."
The echo of Stuart's horse's hoof rang under the portico and Sam hurried
to meet him.
His clear voice called:
"Don't put 'im up, boy!"
Mary's heart began to pound. She knew he would be galloping down the
white graveled way again in a few minutes. His next order confirmed her
fear.
"Just give him some water!"
"Yassah!"
The two women stood huddled close in tense anxiety.
Lee hurried down the stairs and met Stuart at the door. Before the
familiarity of a handshake or word of welcome he asked:
"What news, Lieutenant?"
Stuart spoke with deep emotion. On every word the man and the woman hung
breathlessly.
"It has come, sir. Virginia has answered to the President's call to send
troops against her own people. She has sacrificed all save honor. The
vote of the Convention was overwhelming. She has withdrawn from the
Union--"
A moment's deathly silence. And the cry of pain from a woman's white
lips. Mary caught her mother in her arms and held her firmly. The cry
wrung her young heart.
"Oh, dear God, have mercy on us--and give us strength to bear it--"
Stuart hurried to her side and tried to break the blow with cheerful
words.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Lee. The South is right."
Lee had not spoken. His brilliant eyes had the look of a man who walks
in his sleep. They were in the world but not of it. The deep things of
eternity were in their brooding. He waked at last and turned to Stuart
sadly.
"God save our country, my boy."
He paused and looked out the doorway on the beautiful green of the lawn.
The perfume from the rose garden stole in on the fresh breeze that
stirred from the river.
"A frightful blow," he went on dreamily, "this news you bring."
Stuart's young body stiffened.
"You're the foremost citizen of Virginia, sir. Others may doubt and
waver and be confused. I think I know what you're going to do, in the
end--"
"It's hard--it's hard," the strong man cried bitterly.
The mother and daughter studied his face in eager, anxious waiting. On
his word life hung. Stuart glanced at their tense faces and couldn't
find speech. He turned and spoke briskly.
"I must hurry, sir. I'll be in Richmond before sunset."
The sound of carriage wheels grated on the road and a foaming pair of
horses drew under the portico. A woman sprang out.
Mrs. Lee turned to the Colonel.
"It's your sister, Annie, Colonel."
"Yes," Stuart added, "I passed her on the way--"
Mrs. Marshall hurried to greet Mrs. Lee. The two women embraced and wept
in silence.
"Mary!"
"Annie!"
The names were barely breathed.
Mary silently kissed her aunt as she turned from her mother. The
Colonel's sister raised her eyes and saw Stuart. Her tones were sharp
with the ring of a commander giving orders:
"Our army is marching, Lieutenant Stuart! You here in civilian clothes?"
The strong, young body stiffened.
"I have resigned my commission in the United States Army, Mrs.
Marshall--"
Her finger rose in an imperious gesture.
"You will live to regret it, sir!"
Lee frowned and laid his hand on his sister's arm in a gesture of
appeal.
"Annie, dear, please."
She regained her poise at the touch of his hand and turned to Mrs. Lee.
Stuart extended his hand briskly.
"Goodbye, sir. I hope to see you in Richmond soon--"
Lee's answer was gravely spoken.
"Goodbye, my boy. I honor you in your quick decision, with the clear
vision of youth. We, older men, must halt and pray, and feel our way."
With a laugh in his blue eyes Stuart paused at the door half embarrassed
at Mrs. Marshall's presence. He waved his hat to the group.
"Well, goodbye, everybody! I'm off to join the Cavalry!"
Outside as he hurried to his horse he waved again.
"Goodbye--!"
There was a moment's painful silence. They listened to the beat of his
horse's hoof on the white roadway toward Washington. As the tall soldier
listened he heard the roar of the hoofs of coming legions. And a
warrior's soul leaped to the saddle. But the soul of the man, of the
father and brother uttered a cry of mortal pain. He looked about the
hall in a dazed way as if unconscious of the presence of the women of
his home.
Mrs. Lee saw his deep anxiety and whispered to Mrs. Marshall.
"Come to my room, Annie, and rest before you say anything to Robert--"
She shook her head.
"No--no, my dear. I can't. My heart's too full. I can't rest. It's no
use trying."
The wife took both her hands.
"Then remember, that his heart is even fuller than yours."
"Yes, I know."
"And you cannot possibly be suffering as he is."
"I'll not forget, dear."
Mrs. Lee pressed her hands firmly.
"And say nothing that you'll live to regret?"
"I promise, Mary."
"Please!"
With a lingering look of sympathy for brother and sister, Mrs. Lee
softly left the room.
Lee stood gazing through the window across the shining waters of the
river whose mirror but a few months ago had reflected the distorted
faces of John Brown and his men at Harper's Ferry. It had come, the
vision he had seen as he looked on the dark stains that fateful morning.
He dreaded this interview with his sister. He knew the views of Judge
Marshall, her husband. He knew her own love for the Union.
She was struggling for control of Her emotions and her voice was
strained.
"You've--you've heard this awful news from Richmond?"
"Yes," he answered quietly. "And I've long felt it coming. The first
thunderbolt struck us at Harper's Ferry. The storm has broken now--"
"What are you going to do?"
She asked the question as if half afraid to pronounce the words. Lee
turned away in silence. She followed him and laid a hand on his arm.
"You'll let me tell you all that's in my heart, my brother?"
The soldier was a boy again. He took his sister's hand and stroked it as
he had in the old days at Stratford.
"Of course, my dear."
"And remember that we _are_ brother and sister?"
"Always."
She clung to his hand and made no effort now to keep back the tears.
"And that I shall always believe in you and be proud of you--"
A sob caught her voice and she could not go on. He pressed her hand.
"It's sweet to hear you say this, Annie, in the darkest hour of my
life--"
She interrupted him in quick, passionate appeal.
"Why should it be the darkest hour, Robert? What have you or I, or our
people, to do with the madmen who are driving the South over the brink
of this precipice?"
Lee shook his head.
"The people of the South are not being driven now, my dear--"
He stopped. His eyes flashed as his words quickened.
"They are rushing with a fierce shout as one man. The North thinks that
only a small part of the Southern people are in this revolution, misled
by politicians. The truth is, the masses are sweeping their leaders
before them, as leaves driven by a storm. The cotton states are
unanimous. Virginia has seceded. North Carolina and Tennessee will
follow her to-morrow, and the South a Unit, the Union is divided."
The sister drew herself up with pride, and squarely faced him. She spoke
with deliberation.
"Our families, Robert, from the beginning have stood for the glory of
the Union. It is unthinkable that you should leave it. Such men as
Edmund Ruffin--yes--the impulsive old firebrand has already volunteered
as a private and gone to South Carolina. He pulled the lanyard that
fired the first shot against Fort Sumter. We have nothing in common with
such men--"
Lee lifted his hand in protest.
"Yes, we have, my dear. We are both sons of Virginia, our mother and the
mother of this Republic."
"All the more reason why I'm begging to-day that you dedicate your
genius, your soul and body to fight the men who would destroy the
Union!"
Lee raised his eyes as if in prayer and drew a deep breath.
"There's but one thing for me to decide, Annie--my duty."
His sister clasped her hands nervously and glanced about the room. Her
eyes rested on the portraits of Washington, and his wife and she turned
quickly.
"Your wife is the grand-daughter of Martha Washington. Can you look on
that portrait of the father of this country, handed down to the mother
of your children, and dare draw your sword to destroy his work?"
"I've tried to put him in my place and ask what he would do--"
He stopped suddenly.
"What would Washington do if he stood in my place to-day?"
"My dear brother!"
"Remember now that you are appealing to me as my sister. Did Washington
allow the ties of blood to swerve him from his duty? His own mother was
a loyal subject of the King of Great Britain and died so--"
"Washington led an army of patriots in a sacred cause," she interrupted.
"Surely. But he won his first victories as a soldier fighting the
French, under the British flag. He denounced that flag, joined with the
French and forced Cornwallis to surrender to the armies of France and
the Colonies of America. He was equally right when he fought under the
British flag against the French, and when he fought with Lafayette and
Rochambeau and won our independence. Each time he fought for his rights
under law. Each time with mind and conscience clear, he answered the
call of duty. The man who does that is always right, my sister, no
matter what flag flies above him!"
"Oh, Robert, there is but one flag--the flag of Washington, and your
father, Henry Lee--"
The brother broke in quickly.
"And yet, the first blood in this conflict was drawn by a man who cursed
that flag, who again and again defied its authority, and gloried in the
fact that he had trampled it beneath his feet. The North has proclaimed
him a Saint. Their soldiers are now marching on the South singing a song
of glory to John Brown and all for which he stood. What would Washington
do if he were living, and these men were marching to invade Virginia,
put his home at Mount Vernon to the torch, and place pikes in the hands
of his slaves--"
Lee searched his sister's eyes and drove his question home.
"What would he do?"
The woman was too downright in her honesty to quibble or fence. She
couldn't answer. She flushed and hesitated.
"I don't know--I don't know. I only know," she hastened to add, "that he
couldn't be a traitor."
"Even so. Who is the traitor, my dear? The man who defies the
Constitution and the laws of the Union? Or the man who defends the law
and the rights of his fathers under it?"
Again she couldn't answer. She would not acknowledge defeat. She simply
refused to face such a problem. It led the wrong way. With quick wit
she changed her point of attack. She drew close and asked in passionate
tenderness:
"Have you counted the cost? The frightful cost which you and yours must
pay if you dare defend Virginia?"
Lee nodded his head sorrowfully.
"On my knees, I've tried to reckon it." He looked longingly over the
wide lawn that rolled in green splendor toward the river.
"I know that if I cast my lot with Virginia, this home, handed down to
us from Washington, will be lost, and its fields trampled under the
feet of hostile armies. That my wife and children may wander homeless,
dependent on the charity or courtesy of friends. The thought of it tears
my heart!"
His voice sank to a whisper. And then he lifted his head firmly.
"But I must not allow this to swerve me an inch from my duty--"
The sound of horses' hoofs again echoed on the roadway, as Ben entered
from the dining room to announce breakfast.
Lee listened.
"See who that is, Ben."
"Yassah."
As Ben passed out the door, Lee continued:
"I will not say one word to influence my three sons. I will not even
write to them. They must fight this battle out alone, as I am fighting
it out to-day."
His sister smiled wanly.
"Your sons will follow you, Robert. And so will thousands of the best
men in Virginia. Your responsibility is terrible."
Ben announced from the door.
"Mr. Francis Preston Blair, ter see you, sir."
Lee waved the butler from the room.
"I'll receive him, Ben. You can go."
"Thank God!" Mrs. Marshall breathed. "He's the most influential man
in Washington. He is in close touch with the President, and he is a
Southerner--"
She looked at her brother pleadingly.
"You'll give him the most careful hearing, Robert?"
"I don't know the object of his visit, but I'll gladly see him."
"He's a staunch Union man. He can have but one object in coming!" she
cried with elation.
With courtesy Lee met his distinguished visitor at the door and grasped
his hand.
"Walk in, Mr. Blair. You know my sister, Mrs. Marshall of Baltimore?"
Blair smiled.
"I am happy to say that Mrs. Marshall and I are the best of friends.
We have often met at the house of my son, Montgomery Blair, of Mr.
Lincoln's Cabinet."
"Let me take your hat, sir," Lee said with an answering smile.
"Thank you."
The Colonel crossed the room to place it on a table.
Mrs. Marshall took advantage of the moment to whisper to Blair.
"I've done my best. I'm afraid I haven't convinced him. May God give you
the word to speak to my brother to-day!"
Blair rubbed his hands and a look of triumph overspread his rugged face.
"He has, Madame. I have a message for him!"
"A message?"
"From the highest authority!"
"May I be present at your conference?" she pleaded eagerly.
"By all means, Madame. Stay and hear my announcement. He cannot refuse
me."
Lee sought at once to put Blair at ease on his mission.
"From my sister's remark a moment ago, I may guess the purpose of your
coming, Mr. Blair?"
His guest surveyed Lee with an expression of deep pleasure in the
unfolding of his message.
"In part, yes, you may have guessed my purpose. But I have something to
say that even your keen mind has not surmised--"
"I am honored, sir, in your call and I shall be glad to hear you."
Blair drew himself erect as if on military duty.
"Colonel Lee, I have come after a conference with President Lincoln, to
ask you to throw the power of your great name into this fight now to put
an end to chaos--"
"You have come from the President?"
"Unofficially--"
"Oh--"
"But with his full knowledge and consent."
"And what is his suggestion?"
Blair hesitated.
"He cannot make it until he first knows that you will accept his offer."
"His offer?"
Blair waited until the thought had been fully grasped and then uttered
each word with solemn emphasis.
"His offer, sir, of the supreme command of the armies of the Union--"
A cry of joy and pride came resistlessly from the sister's lips.
"Oh, Robert--Robert!"
Lee was surprised and deeply moved. He rose from his seat, walked to the
window, looked out, flushed and slowly said:
"You--you--cannot mean this--?"
Blair hastened to assure him.
"I am straight from the White House. General Scott has eagerly endorsed
your name."
"But I cannot realize this to me--from Abraham Lincoln?"
"From Abraham Lincoln, whose simple common sense is the greatest
asset to-day which the Union possesses. His position is one of frank
conciliation toward the South."
"Yet he said once that this Republic cannot endure half slave and half
free and the South interpreted that to mean--war--"
"Exactly. Crowds do not reason. They refuse to think. They refuse,
therefore, to hear his explanation of those words. He hates Slavery
as you hate Slavery. He knows, as you know, that it is doomed by the
process of time. To make this so clear that he who runs may read, he
wrote in his inaugural address in so many words his solemn pledge to
respect every right now possessed by the masters of the South under law.
_"'I have no purpose to interfere with the institution of Slavery in the
States where it exists.'"_
"His sole purpose now is to save the Union, Slavery or no Slavery--"
"Surely, Robert," his sister cried, "you can endorse that stand!"
"Mr. Lincoln," Blair went on eagerly, "is a leader whose common sense
amounts to genius. No threats or bluster, inside his own party or
outside of it, can swerve him from his high aim. He is going to save
this Union first and let all other questions bide their time."
Lee searched Blair with his keen eyes.
"But Mr. Lincoln, without the authority of Congress, has practically
declared war. He has called on Virginia to furnish troops to fight
a sister State. My State has decided that he had no power under the
Constitution to issue such a call. It is, therefore, illegal. The
organic law of the republic makes no provision for raising troops to
fight a sister State."
Blair lifted both hands in a persuasive gesture.
"Let us grant, Colonel Lee, that in law you are right. The States are
sovereign. The Constitution gives the General Government no power to
coerce a State. Our fathers, as a matter of fact, never faced such a
possibility. Grant all that in law. Even so, a mighty, united nation
has grown through the years. It is now a living thing, immutable,
indissoluble. It commands your obedience and mine."
Lee was silent and Mrs. Marshall cried:
"Surely this is true, Robert!"
"My dear Mr. Blair," Lee slowly began, "your claim is the beginning of
the end of law--the beginning of anarchy. If under the law, Virginia
is right, is it not my duty to defend her? Obedience to law is the
cornerstone on which all nations are built if they endure. Reverence for
law is to-day the force driving the South into revolution--"
"A revolution doomed to certain failure," Blair quickly interrupted.
"The border slave states of Maryland, Kentucky and Missouri, under Mr.
Lincoln's conservative leadership, will never secede. Without them the
South must fail. You have served under the flag of the Union for thirty
years. You know the North. You know the South. And you know that such a
revolution based on a division of the Union without these border States
is madness--"
"It is madness, Robert," Mrs. Marshall joined, "utter madness!"
"Right and duty, Mr. Blair, have nothing to do with success or failure,"
Lee responded. "I know the fearful odds against the South. I know the
indomitable will, the energy, the fertile resources, the pride of
opinion of the North, once set in motion. I know that the South has no
money, no army, no organized government, no standing in the Court of
Nations. She will have a white population of barely five millions
against twenty-two millions--and her ports will be closed by our Navy--"
Blair interrupted and leaned close.
"And let me add, that as our leader _you_ will not only command the
greatest army ever assembled under the American flag, backed by a great
Navy--but that your victory will be but the beginning of a career. From
your window you see the White House and the Capitol. The man who leads
the Union armies will succeed Mr. Lincoln as President."
Lee's protest was emphatic.
"I aspire to no office, Mr. Blair. I'm fifty-four years of age. I am on
the hilltop of life. The way leads down a gentle slope, I trust, to a
valley of peace, love and happiness. Ambition does not lure me; I have
lived. I have played my part as well as I know how. I am content. I love
my Country, North and South, East and West. I am a trained soldier--I
know nothing else."
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