April 20th 1861

     It was hot; hot and dry, I remember, the day that the telegram came. I knew the small intricate handwriting on the front to be that of General Scott, commander-and-chief of the Union armies. I opened it and barely read the summons. I knew what he wanted. I knew what I didn’t want to do. I knew what I couldn’t do. But that did not help me decide what I should do. Deciding to take one step at a time, I made up my mind to go in respect to the General and do my duty.
    And now what: a Civil War? I had experienced controversy enough in the course of my life to know the meaning of the word. I had known controversy between family members, controversy between races, and even controversy between friends. But this, this was controversy between states that were United in one whole country. All of us were brothers, practically of the same land. This was different.
      I had always grown up appreciating war and military standards. After all, my father was Lighthorse Harry Lee, cavalry hero, was he not! And yet I shuddered from this call of audience, this mark of esteem. But of what esteem? 
     My mother had always held my siblings and I to high standards. We were taught to love, to live, and to honor our land and family above all things. We were taught good morals by our mother, good morals, and how to be strong. I knew with good knowledge that what we were facing was tragedy. I wrote to my son that day, before the summons arrived. I had translated my troubled thoughts and anxieties to paper.
     “I can anticipate no greater calamity for the country than a dissolution of the Union. …Still, a Union that can only be maintained by swords and bayonets, and in which strife and civil war are to take the place of brotherly love and kindness, has no charm for me….If the Union is dissolved, and the Government disrupted, I shall return to my native State and share the miseries of my people, and, save in defense, will draw my sword on none.”
     I still stood and stuck to those words that I wrote, through thick and thin. It was heart wrenching, what was before me, truly heart wrenching. God! I was no defender of slavery. If I had owned all the slaves in the south I would have cheerfully given them up to preserve the Union. But no, it was not to be. I could not back down from my duty to my home, my family, all the things and people that I had known and loved.
     I had to go.
     It was just three days ago that I went in response to his proposal. April 18th. I rode across the bride from Arlington to Washington. I was exhausted; exhausted and dirty, I remember, once I arrived. And when I dismounted I learned that General Winfield Scott was awaiting me in his parlor. General Scott that had served under me as my chief artillery in the Mexican campaign.
     As I entered, the commander and chief of the Union army looked up at me slowly, through his cigar smoke. He was overweight, nearing eighty-one years of age, and laying back in his chair lazily. As I entered he stiffened and we saluted. I walked forward, I remember, very stiffly, and my eyes found it hard to focus on him.
     He had no trouble focusing on me, however, and I could tell by his eyes that, despite this mans age, his mind was as sharp as a man thirty years his junior.
     He offered me a glass of iced tea, which I took gratefully enough.
     “I have called you, Lee, to ask you something of great importance.”
     I thought I knew what he wanted from me. It was either the heat or my uncertainty, here my memory is hazy, that made my heart beat strong in my breast and my head reel as if hit by a beehive.
     “I am not going to waste your time and mine by expounding with a lot of elaborate words or explanations. It is as clear as it is.” He tapped his cigar on the ashtray and was silent for a moment. “I called you here today, General Lee, to offer you total field command of the Union armies.”
     His words hit me as any physical blow might. Hard. I felt their full effect, let me tell you. My throat was already dry from my dusty ride but now I felt as if I literally could not speak. I must have remained silent for a very long time because he just sat and looked at me with his hard stare. The worn lines that were drawn in his face showed thousands of battles, planned and laid carefully, and silently put to rest behind him. I could almost see beyond his furrowed brow the great mind at work with strategies and sorrows, advantages and difficulties. Here sat a man overworked by his great military ability. And yet his eyes were alive and transfixing.
     I could not keep this man in suspense. I could not draw out the agony as he tried to pierce my quietness. It hurt my heart to know how he would take my upcoming words. I think it must have hurt worst to say them to him because of my respect for his military genius, but also because he had served under me once, and I had respect for him as a simple man, a brother; a friend. I closed my eyes and bowed slowly.
     ‘”I regret that I must say this to you, General Scott, but I must decline your generous and unbelievable offer.”
     He sat back then and bent his head. He covered his forehead in disappointment and frustration.
     I became indignant. What could he have expected? He knew who my father was. He knew my mother raised me. He knew all. So, why did he ask this?
     “Lee,” he said quietly, in such a tone that I will never forget, “You have made the greatest mistake of your life; but I feared it would be so.”
     The truth stung for once in my life. The beautiful truth that I always trusted cut me. I placed the glass of iced tea on the desk, with a sigh that was heavy and grotesque. I knew that I had just turned down one of the highest honors that a country can bestow on a military man. “Good day, General.”
     He said nothing in return, but saluted politely with the same relentless eyes, and I was gone.
     My ride back was hot, and lonely. I was terrified of thoughts, terrified of thinking. The next day, since I had resolved to do so, I left the U.S. Army. I left my hometown of Arlington and rode to Richmond to take up command of the military forces for the state of Virginia, my state of Virginia. Echoing still through my mind are these words, the ones that I wish I would have said to General Scott. 'I may have made a mistake, but it is to show that I am a true Southerner in my loyalties to my home, my land and my native Virginia. And now we face calamity; in God alone must we trust.'
 

(My history assignment on, Lee before the Civil War)