10:00 P.M.

The small village of Beallsville was nothing more than a hamlet of a half dozen homes, a general store, and a small Episcopal church. Lee sat within the church alone, head bowed in prayer.

For once, given the violence of the storm, he had broken his rule and allowed his men to move into the houses, the sick and wounded to be brought into the church. The men were silent as he sat in the front pew.

He finished praying and stood up, then walked to the back of the church where a surgeon was at work. A Union soldier was on the table, leg shredded just below the knee, the boy looking up with pleading eyes at the doctor.

"It will be just fine, son," the doctor whispered. "Son, I have to take your leg off, but you still have your life. Think about your mother. Will it matter any less to her if you come home to her injured?" "No, sir, I guess not."

"Of course not. She'll greet you with open arms. Now go to sleep, son. You'll be just fine."

The doctor nodded to his assistant, who placed a paper cone over the boy's face.

"Breathe deeply."

"Hail Mary, full of grace…" the boy began to whisper, and then his voice drifted off. The doctor nodded to his other assistant who handed over a bloodied scalpel, and the doctor set to work. Lee turned away.

He heard a polite cough behind him and turned to see Walter in the doorway, illuminated by the flashes of lightning outside. Behind Walter was a gathering of officers, Longstreet, Stuart with head and arm bandaged, Jed Hotchkiss, several brigadiers, and Judah Benjamin.

"Sir," Walter whispered, coming to Lee's side. 'These gentlemen wish to speak with you."

"I assumed that," Lee said.

Walter opened the door into the vestry and the men followed him in. Walter struck a match to light a lamp, then closed the door.

Lee sat down in the only chair, the others standing formally before him.

"Go on, gendemen. I thought our plan of march had already been laid out for tomorrow, but if you have a concern, please share it."

They looked one to the other, and finally it was Jeb who stirred and stepped forward slowly.

"Sir, we have a request to lay before you."

"I am always open to suggestions from my trusted officers," Lee said. "Please go ahead, General Stuart."

"Sir, perhaps this storm is heaven-sent."

"How so, General Stuart?"

"Sir, we are requesting that you break the army up tonight. Every man to head for the river by his own means. Under cover of this storm thousands might get across to the other side. Come tomorrow, we turn west and head into the mountains. From there, sir, we can dig in and play havoc with them for years."

Lee said nothing, just stared at Jeb.

Longstreet stepped forward.

"I concur, sir. We might be able to get five to ten thousand across the river under cover of this storm."

The others, all except Walter, nodded in agreement.

Lee lowered his head, and all were silent God, give me wisdom now, he silently prayed. Guide me in what I am about to do.

He continued to pray and at last the words came to him and he looked back up.

"The One Hundred Forty-third Psalm, gentlemen." "Sir?" Jeb asked.

" 'Teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God.'" No one responded.

"I was just meditating on that psalm before you gentlemen came to visit. When I first started to pray in this church my heart was drawn to the last stanza of that psalm, 'And of thy mercy cut off mine enemies, and destroy all them that afflict my soul for I am thy servant.'"

Jeb nodded as Lee spoke.

"Did you see that Union boy being operated on when you came in?"

No one spoke.

"Is that my enemy?" he asked.

"He fights for our enemies," Jeb replied.

"No, sir," Lee said and now his voice was forceful. "That boy is not my enemy anymore. If we have an enemy now, it is this war itself. It has swept us up into its dark soul. It has killed and crippled thousands like that boy out in the chapel who is being cut apart even as we speak. We have spent more than two years at this, tearing each other's hearts and souls out."

He lowered his head for a moment and then raised it again.

"We're all sorry about that, sir," Longstreet replied.

"Of course we are. We always say we are sorry. Generals have been saying 'I'm sorry' since war began.

"All right, General Stuart. Let us say I do follow the suggestion you gentlemen have put before me. We shall break camp tonight, pass the word to our officers to tell our men to disband and head for the river. We shall destroy the artillery we have left and abandon our medical supplies and every man will make a run for it."

Jeb looked at him hopefully, as if he were about to change his mind.

"Then what?" Lee continued.

"Sir, like I said," Jeb pressed. "We tell the men to head west once they're across the Potomac, up into the Blue Ridge, set some rally points, and there carry on the fight."

"With what and how? All organization will be gone. Individual men will be hunted down, cornered, or killed. No officers in control, our men reduced to brigands and thieves in order to survive as they head cross-country. Those that make it. What then? They will be outlaws, not an army. It will be bushwhacking, murder, and reprisals on both sides for months, maybe for years to come."

He paused.

"Maybe forever."

He stood up and went to the window, the men parting before him.

"If I were Grant and presented with such a situation I would hunt us down without mercy. I would be forced to. There would be no honor in it, no rules of war, just a merciless hunt. Those of you who served out west saw it at times, the brutality of raids and reprisals against the natives, the executions, the torture."

He turned and looked at his men.

"You have been with me for over a year and a half, my friends." Now his voice was softer. "We have served our country with honor, and we have one more service to render to her."

He lowered his head.

"We must serve her with honor to the end." He smiled sadly. "Is not the will of God evident to us this night? We have placed our trust in him. We have sought his guidance and strength. We have prayed and always our prayers ended with 'Thy will be done.'"

He stared intently at the gathering.

"Do we not now see his will in this?

"Things have turned against us and in that I see his will. I have sought God's guidance every day of my life and I sought it again tonight. Yes, I contemplated the same thing you gentlemen suggested, but then the psalm was my answer. I must do his will, and it is clear to me now, gentlemen, that his will is that we shall continue with honor, and then, if need be, submit with honor.

"If we do not break through Grant's lines tomorrow, if we do not win and are forced to surrender, then I expect each and every one of us will do so with honor, and then together we shall rebuild this shattered land. I think in doing that we will answer my prayer and fulfill God's wishes for us. To do anything else, gentlemen…"

He raised his head and looked each of them in the eyes.

'To do anything else would be a sin and turn God against us, and our country, forever. The South will be reduced to an occupied land, marauding bands fighting like thieves in the night, our families displaced, farmlands destroyed, everything turned to wreckage and ruin and a hatred burned into all hearts that will never die, a curse passed on to our children's children."

No one dared to speak, heads were lowered. Finally, it was Judah who stepped forward.

"Sir, may I shake your hand," Judah whispered.

Lee looked at him with surprise and took it.

Judah turned and left the room without comment. One by one the others followed. Walter hesitated to leave, but Lee looked up at him and smiled, nodding for him to go as well.