Produced by Brett Fishburne
RECOLLECTIONS AND LETTERS OF GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE
by Captain Robert E. Lee, His Son
Detailed Contents
Chapter I Services in the United States Army Captain Lee, of the
Engineers, a hero to his child--The family pets--Home from the Mexican
War--Three years in Baltimore--Superintendent of the West Point
Military Academy--Lieutenant-Colonel of Second Cavalry--Supresses
“John Brown Raid” at Harper’s Ferry--Commands the Department of
Taxes.............. 3
Chapter II The Confederate General Resigns from Colonelcy of First
United States Cavalry--Motives for this step--Chosen to command Virginia
forces--Anxiety about his wife, family, and possessions--Chief advisor
to President Davis--Battle of Manassas--Military operations in West
Virginia--Letter to State Governor......................... 24
Chapter III Letters to Wife and Daughters From Camp on Sewell’s
Mountain--Quotation from Colonel Taylor’s book--From Professor Wm.
P. Trent--From Mr. Davis’s Memorial Address--Defense of Southern
ports--Christmas, 1861--The General visits his father’s grave--Commands,
under the President, all the armies of the Confederate States
................. 48
Chapter IV Army Life of Robert the Younger Volunteer in Rockbridge
Artillery--“Four Years with General Lee” quoted--Meeting between father
and son--Personal characteristics of the General--Death of his daughter
Annie--His son Robert raised from the ranks--the horses, “Grace Darling”
and “Traveller”--Fredricksburg--Freeing slaves .................. 69
Chapter V The Army of Northern Virginia The General’s sympathy for
his suffering soldiers--Chancellorsville--Death of “Stonewall”
Jackson--General Fitzhugh Lee wounded and captured--Escape of
his brother Robert--Gettysburg--Religious revival--Infantry
review--Unsatisfactory commissariat........................... 91
Chapter VI The Winter of 1863-4 The Lee family in Richmond--The
General’s letters to them from Camps Rappahannock and Rapidan--Death
of Mrs. Fitzhugh Lee--Preparations to meet General Grant--The
Wilderness--Spottsylvania Court House--Death of General Stuart--General
Lee’s illness ... 112
Chapter VII Fronting the Army of the Potomac Battle of Cold
Harbour--Siege of Petersburg--The General intrusts a mission to his son
Robert--Battle of the Crater--Grant crosses the James River--General
Long’s pen-picture of Lee--Knitting socks for the soldiers--A Christmas
dinner--Incidents of camp life... 128
Chapter VIII The Surrender Fort Fisher captured--Lee made
Commander-in-Chief--Battle of Five Forks--The General’s farewell to
his men--His reception in Richmond after the surrender--President Davis
hears the news--Lee’s visitors--His son Robert turns farmer ...........
144
Chapter IX A Private Citizen Lee’s conception of the part--His influence
exerted toward the restoration of Virginia--He visits old friends
throughout the country--Receives offers of positions--Compares notes
with the Union General Hunter--Longs for a country home--Finds one at
“Derwent,” near Cartersville................... 162
Chapter X President of Washington College Patriotic motives for
acceptance of trust--Condition of college--The General’s arrival
at Lexington--He prepares for the removal of his family to
that city--Advice to Robert Junior--Trip to “Bremo” on private
canal-boat--Mrs. Lee’s invalidism........... 179
Chapter XI The Idol of the South Photographs and autographs in
demand--The General’s interest in young people--His happy home
life--Labours at Washington College--He gains financial aid for
it--Worsley’s translation of Homer dedicated to him--Tributes from other
English scholars...... 198
Chapter XII Lee’s Opinion upon the Late War His intention to write
the history of his Virginia campaigns--Called before a committee of
Congress--Preaches patience and silence in the South--Shuns controversy
and publicity--Corresponds with an Englishman, Herbert C. Saunders
............. 218
Chapter XIII Family Affairs The General writes to his sons--To his wife
at Rockbridge Baths--He joins her there about once a week--Distinguished
and undistinguished callers at his Lexington home--He advocates early
hours--His fondness for animals ................. 235
Chapter XIV An Ideal Father Letters to Mildred Lee--To Robert--To
Fitzhugh--Interviewed by Swinton, historian of the Army of the
Potomac--Improvement in grounds and buildings of Washington
College--Punctuality a prominent trait of its President--A strong
supporter of the Y.M.C.A.............................. 252
Chapter XV Mountain Rides An incident about “Traveller”--The General’s
love for children--His friendship with Ex-President Davis--A ride with
his daughter to the Peaks of Otter--Mildred Lee’s narrative--Mrs. Lee
at the White Sulphur Springs--The great attention paid her husband
there--His idea of life ..................... 264
Chapter XVI An Advisor of Young Men Lee’s policy as college
president--His advice on agricultural matters--His affection for his
prospective daughter-in-law--Fitzhugh’s wedding--The General’s
ovation at Petersburg--his personal interest in the students under his
care......... 280
Chapter XVII The Reconstruction Period The General believes in
the enforcement of law and order--His moral influence in the
college--Playful humour shown in his letters--His opinion of negro
labour--Mr. Davis’s trial--Letter to Mrs. Fitzhugh Lee--Intercourse with
Faculty ........... 299
Chapter XVIII Mrs. R. E. Lee Goes to Warm Springs for rheumatism--Her
daughter Mildred takes typhoid there--Removes to Hot Springs--Her
husband’s devotion--Visit of Fitzhugh and bride to Lexington--Miss
Jones, a would-be benefactor of Washington College--Fate of Washington
relics belonging to Mrs. Lee’s family.................. 318
Chapter XIX Lee’s Letters to His Sons The building of Robert’s
house--The General as a railroad delegate--Lionised in
Baltimore--Calls on President Grant--Visits Alexandria--Declines to
be interviewed--Interested in his grandson--The Washington
portraits................ 339
Chapter XX The New Home in Lexington Numerous guests--Further sojourns
at different Baths--Death of the General’s brother, Smith Lee--Visits to
“Ravensworth” and “The White House”--Meetings with interesting people at
White Sulphur Springs--Death of Professor Preston ............... 357
Chapter XXI Failing Health The General declines lucrative positions
in New York and Atlanta--He suffers from an obstinate cold--Local
gossip--He is advised to go South in the spring of 1870--Desires to
visit his daughter Annie’s grave .......................... 376
Chapter XXII The Southern Trip Letters to Mrs. Lee from Richmond and
Savannah--From Brandon--Agnes Lee’s account of her father’s greetings
from old friends and old soldiers--Wilmington and Norfolk do him
honour--Visits to Fitzhugh and Robert in their homes................ 388
Chapter XXIII A Round of Visits Baltimore--Alexandria--A war-talk with
Cousin Cassius Lee--“Ravensworth”--Letter to Doctor Buckler declining
invitation to Europe--To General Cooper--To Mrs. Lee from the Hot
Springs--Tired of public places--Preference for country life ..........
412
Chapter XXIV Last Days Letter to his wife--To Mr. Tagart--Obituary
notice in “Personal Reminiscences of General Robert E. Lee”--Mrs. Lee’s
account of his death .............................. 431
Chapter I -- Services in the United States Army
Captain Lee, of the Engineers, a hero to his child--The family
pets--Home from the Mexican War--Three years in Baltimore--Superintendent
of the West Point Military Academy--Lieutenant-Colonel of Second
Cavalry--Supresses “John Brown Raid” at Harper’s Ferry--Commands the
Department of Taxes
The first vivid recollection I have of my father is his arrival at
Arlington, after his return from the Mexican War. I can remember some
events of which he seemed a part, when we lived at Fort Hamilton, New
York, about 1846, but they are more like dreams, very indistinct and
disconnected--naturally so, for I was at that time about three years
old. But the day of his return to Arlington, after an absence of more
than two years, I have always remembered. I had a frock or blouse of
some light wash material, probably cotton, a blue ground dotted over
with white diamond figures. Of this I was very proud, and wanted to wear
it on this important occasion. Eliza, my “mammy,” objecting, we had
a contest and I won. Clothed in this, my very best, and with my hair
freshly curled in long golden ringlets, I went down into the larger hall
where the whole household was assembled, eagerly greeting my father, who
had just arrived on horseback from Washington, having missed in some way
the carriage which had been sent for him.
There was visiting us at this time Mrs. Lippitt, a friend of my
mother’s, with her little boy, Armistead, about my age and size, also
with long curls. Whether he wore as handsome a suit as mine I cannot
remember, but he and I were left together in the background, feeling
rather frightened and awed. After a moment’s greeting to those
surrounding him, my father pushed through the crowd, exclaiming:
“Where is my little boy?”
He then took up in his arms and kissed--not me, his own child in his
best frock with clean face and well-arranged curls--but my little
playmate, Armistead! I remember nothing more of any circumstances
connected with that time, save that I was shocked and humiliated. I
have no doubt that he was at once informed of his mistake and made ample
amends to me.
A letter from my father to his brother Captain S. S. Lee, United States
Nave, dated “Arlington, June 30, 1848,” tells of his coming home:
“Here I am once again, my dear Smith, perfectly surrounded by Mary and
her precious children, who seem to devote themselves to staring at the
furrows in my face and the white hairs in my head. It is not surprising
that I am hardly recognisable to some of the young eyes around me and
perfectly unknown to the youngest. But some of the older ones gaze with
astonishment and wonder at me, and seem at a loss to reconcile what they
see and what was pictured in their imaginations. I find them, too,
much grown, and all well, and I have much cause for thankfulness, and
gratitude to that good God who has once more united us.”
My next recollection of my father is in Baltimore, while we were on
a visit to his sister, Mrs. Marshall, the wife of Judge Marshall. I
remember being down on the wharves, where my father had taken me to see
the landing of a mustang pony which he had gotten for me in Mexico, and
which had been shipped from Vera Cruz to Baltimore in a sailing vessel.
I was all eyes for the pony, and a very miserable, sad-looking object
he was. From his long voyage, cramped quarters and unavoidable lack of
grooming, he was rather a disappointment to me, but I soon got over
all that. As I grew older, and was able to ride and appreciate him, he
became the joy and pride of my life. I was taught to ride on him by Jim
Connally, the faithful Irish servant of my father, who had been with him
in Mexico. Jim used to tell me, in his quizzical way, that he and “Santa
Anna” (the pony’s name) were the first men on the walls of Chepultepec.
This pony was pure white, five years old and about fourteen hands high.
For his inches, he was as good a horse as I ever have seen. While we
lived in Baltimore, he and “Grace Darling,” my father’s favourite mare,
were members of our family.
Grace Darling was a chestnut of fine size and of great power, which he
had bought in Texas on his way out to Mexico, her owner having died on
the march out. She was with him during the entire campaign, and was
shot seven times; at least, as a little fellow I used to brag about that
number of bullets being in her, and since I could point out the scars of
each one, I presume it was so. My father was very much attached to her
and proud of her, always petting her and talking to her in a loving way,
when he rode her or went to see her in her stall. Of her he wrote on his
return home:
“I only arrived yesterday, after a long journey up the Mississippi,
which route I was induced to take, for the better accommodation of
my horse, as I wished to spare her as much annoyance and fatigue as
possible, she already having undergone so much suffering in my service.
I landed her at Wheeling and left her to come over with Jim.”
Santa Anna was found lying cold and dead in the park at Arlington one
morning in the winter of ‘60-’61. Grace Darling was taken in the spring
of ‘62 from the White House [My brother’s place on the Pamunkey River,
where the mare had been sent for save keeping.”] by some Federal
quartermaster, when McClellan occupied that place as his base of
supplies during his attack on Richmond. When we lived in Baltimore, I
was greatly struck one day by hearing two ladies who were visiting us
saying:
“Everybody and everything--his family, his friends, his horse, and his
dog--loves Colonel Lee.”
The dog referred to was a black-and-tan terrier named “Spec,” very
bright and intelligent and really a member of the family, respected and
beloved by ourselves and well known to all who knew us. My father picked
up his mother in the “Narrows” while crossing from Fort Hamilton to
the fortifications opposite on Staten Island. She had doubtless fallen
overboard from some passing vessel and had drifted out of sight before
her absence had been discovered. He rescued her and took her home, where
she was welcomed by his children an made much of. She was a handsome
little thing, with cropped ears and a short tail. My father named her
“Dart.” She was a fine ratter, and with the assistance of a Maltese cat,
also a member of the family, the many rats which infested the house and
stables were driven away or destroyed. She and the cat were fed out of
the same plate, but Dart was not allowed to begin the meal until the cat
had finished.
Spec was born at Fort Hamilton and was the joy of us children, our
pet and companion. My father would not allow his tail and ears to be
cropped. When he grew up, he accompanied us everywhere and was in the
habit of going into church with the family. As some of the little ones
allowed their devotions to be disturbed by Spec’s presence, my father
determined to leave him at home on those occasions. So the next Sunday
morning, he was sent up to the front room of the second story. After the
family had left for church he contented himself for awhile looking
out of the window, which was open, it being summer time. Presently
impatience overcame his judgement and he jumped to the ground, landed
safely notwithstanding the distance, joined the family just as they
reached the church, and went in with them as usual, much to the joy
of the children. After that he was allowed to go to church whenever he
wished. My father was very fond of him, and loved to talk to him and
about him as if he were really one of us. In a letter to my mother,
dated Fort Hamilton, January 18, 1846, when she and her children were on
a visit to Arlington, he thus speaks of him:
“...I am very solitary, and my only company is my dogs and cats. But
‘Spec’ has become so jealous now that he will hardly let me look at the
cats. He seems to be afraid that I am going off from him, and never lets
me stir without him. Lies down in the office from eight to four without
moving, and turns himself before the fire as the side from it becomes
cold. I catch him sometimes sitting up looking at me so intently that I
am for a moment startled...”
In a letter from Mexico written a year later--December 25, ‘46, to my
mother, he says:
“...Can’t you cure poor ‘Spec.’ Cheer him up--take him to walk with you
and tell the children to cheer him up...”
In another letter from Mexico to his eldest boy, just after the capture
of Vera Cruz, he sends this message to Spec....
“Tell him I wish he was here with me. He would have been of great
service in telling me when I was coming upon the Mexicans. When I
was reconnoitering around Vera Cruz, their dogs frequently told me by
barking when I was approaching them too nearly....”
When he returned to Arlington from Mexico, Spec was the first to
recognise him, and the extravagance of his demonstrations of delight
left no doubt that he knew at once his kind master and loving friend,
though he had been absent three years. Sometime during our residence in
Baltimore, Spec disappeared, and we never knew his fate.
From that early time I began to be impressed with my father’s character,
as compared with other men. Every member of the household respected,
revered and loved him as a matter of course, but it began to dawn on
me that every one else with whom I was thrown held him high in their
regard. At forty-five years of age he was active, strong, and as
handsome as he had ever been. I never remember his being ill. I presume
he was indisposed at times; but no impressions of that kind remain. He
was always bright and gay with us little folk, romping, playing, and
joking with us. With the older children, he was just as companionable,
and the have seen him join my elder brothers and their friends when
they would try their powers at a high jump put up in our yard. The two
younger children he petted a great deal, and our greatest treat was to
get into his bed in the morning and lie close to him, listening while
he talked to us in his bright, entertaining way. This custom we kept
up until I was ten years old and over. Although he was so joyous and
familiar with us, he was very firm on all proper occasions, never
indulged us in anything that was not good for us, and exacted the most
implicit obedience. I always knew that it was impossible to disobey my
father. I felt it in me, I never thought why, but was perfectly sure
when he gave an order that it had to be obeyed. My mother I could
sometimes circumvent, and at times took liberties with her orders,
construing them to suit myself; but exact obedience to every mandate of
my father was part of my life and being at that time. He was very
fond of having his hands tickled, and, what was still more curious, it
pleased and delighted him to take off his slippers and place his feet in
our laps in order to have them tickled. Often, as little things, after
romping all day, the enforced sitting would be too much for us, and our
drowsiness would soon show itself in continued nods. Then, to arouse,
us, he had a way of stirring us up with his foot--laughing heartily at
and with us. He would often tell us the most delightful stories, and
then there was no nodding. Sometimes, however, our interest in his
wonderful tales became so engrossing that we would forget to do our
duty--when he would declare, “No tickling, no story!” When we were a
little older, our elder sister told us one winter the ever-delightful
“Lady of the Lake.” Of course, she told it in prose and arranged it to
suit our mental capacity. Our father was generally in his corner by the
fire, most probably with a foot in either the lap of myself or youngest
sister--the tickling going on briskly--and would come in at different
points of the tale and repeat line after line of the poem--much to our
disapproval--but to his great enjoyment.
In January, 1849, Captain Lee was one of a board of army officers
appointed to examine the coasts of Florida and its defenses and to
recommend locations for new fortifications. In April he was assigned
to the duty of the construction of Fort Carroll, in the Patapsco River
below Baltimore. He was there, I think, for three years, and lived in
a house on Madison Street, three doors above Biddle. I used to go down
with him to the Fort quite often. We went to the wharf in a “bus,”
and there we were met by a boat with two oarsmen, who rowed us down to
Sollers Point, where I was generally left under the care of the people
who lived there, while my father went over to the Fort, a short distance
out in the river. These days were happy ones for me. The wharves, the
shipping, the river, the boat and oarsmen, and the country dinner we had
at the house at Sollers Point, all made a strong impression on me;
but above all I remember my father, his gentle, loving care of me, his
bright talk, his stories, his maxims and teachings. I was very proud of
him and of the evident respect for and trust in him every one showed.
These impressions, obtained at that time, have never left me. He was
a great favourite in Baltimore, as he was everywhere, especially with
ladies and little children. When he and my mother went out in the
evening to some entertainment, we were often allowed to sit up and see
them off; my father, as I remember, always in full uniform, always ready
and waiting for my mother, who was generally late. He would chide her
gently, in a playful way and with a bright smile. He would then bid us
good-bye, and I would go to sleep with this beautiful picture in my
mind, the golden epaulets and all--chiefly the epaulets.
In Baltimore, I went to my first school, that of a Mr. Rollins on
Mulberry Street, and I remember how interested my father was in my
studies, my failures, and my little triumphs. Indeed, he was so always,
as long as I was at school and college, and I only wish that all of the
kind, sensible, useful letters he wrote me had been preserved.
My memory as to the move from Baltimore, which occurred in 1852, is very
dim. I think the family went to Arlington to remain until my father had
arranged for our removal to the new home at West Point.
My recollection of my father as Superintendent of the West Point
Military Academy is much more distinct. He lived in the house which is
still occupied by the Superintendent. It was built of stone, large and
roomy, with gardens, stables, and pasture lots. We, the two youngest
children, enjoyed it all. “Grace Darling” and “Santa Anna” were
there with us, and many a fine ride did I have with my father in the
afternoons, when, released from his office, he would mount his old mare
and, with Santa Anna carrying me by his side, take a five or ten-mile
trot. Though the pony cantered delightfully, he would make me keep him
in a trot, saying playfully that the hammering sustained was good for
me. We rode the dragoon-seat, no posting, and until I became accustomed
to it I used to be very tired by the time I got back.
My father was the most punctual man I ever knew. He was always ready for
family prayers, for meals, and met every engagement, social or business,
at the moment. He expected all of us to be the same, and taught us the
use and necessity of forming such habits for the convenience of all
concerned. I never knew him late for Sunday service at the Post Chapel.
He used to appear some minutes before the rest of us, in uniform,
jokingly rallying my mother for being late, and for forgetting something
at the last moment. When he could wait no longer for her, he would say
that he was off and would march along to church by himself, or with any
of the children who were ready. There he sat very straight--well up
the middle aisle--and, as I remember, always became very sleepy, and
sometimes even took a little nap during the sermon. At that time, this
drowsiness of my father’s was something awful to me, inexplicable. I
know it was very hard for me to keep awake, and frequently I did not;
but why he, who to my mind could do everything right, without any
effort, should sometimes be overcome, I could not understand, and did
not try to do so.
It was against the rules that the cadets should go beyond certain limits
without permission. Of course they did go sometimes, and when caught
were given quite a number of “demerits.” My father was riding out one
afternoon with me, and, while rounding a turn in the mountain road with
a deep woody ravine on one side, we came suddenly upon three cadets far
beyond the limits. They immediately leaped over a low wall on the side
of the road and disappeared from our view.
We rode on for a minute in silence; then my father said: “Did you know
those young men? But no; if you did, don’t say so. I wish boys would do
what was right, it would be so much easier for all parties!”
He knew he would have to report them, but, not being sure of who they
were, I presume he wished to give them the benefit of the doubt. At any
rate, I never heard any more about it. One of the three asked me the
next day if my father had recognised them, and I told him what had
occurred.
By this time I had become old enough to have a room to myself, and, to
encourage me in being useful and practical, my father made me attend to
it, just as the cadets had to do with their quarters in barracks and in
camp. He at first even went through the form of inspecting it, to see if
I had performed my duty properly, and I think I enjoyed this until
the novelty wore off. However, I was kept at it, becoming in time very
proficient, and the knowledge so acquired has been of great use to me
all through life.
My father always encouraged me in every healthy outdoor exercise and
sport. He taught me to ride, constantly giving me minute instructions,
with the reasons for them. He gave me my first sled, and sometimes used
to come out where we boys were coasting to look on. He gave me my first
pair of skates, and placed me in the care of a trustworthy person,
inquiring regularly how I progressed. It was the same with swimming,
which he was very anxious I should learn in a proper manner. Professor
Bailey had a son about my age, now himself a professor at Brown
University, Providence, Rhode Island, who became my great chum. I
took my first lesson in the water with him, under the direction and
supervision of his father. My father inquired constantly how I was
getting along, and made me describe exactly my method and stroke,
explaining to me what he considered the best way to swim, and the
reasons therefor.
I went to day-school at West Point, and had always a sympathetic helper
in my father; often he would come into the room where I studied at
night, and, sitting down by me, would show me how to overcome a hard
sentence in my Latin reader or a difficult sum in arithmetic, not by
giving me the translation of the troublesome sentence or the answer
to the sum, but by showing me, step by step, the way to the right
solutions. He was very patient, very loving, very good to me, and I
remember trying my best to please him in my studies. When I was able to
bring home a good report from my teacher, he was greatly pleased, and
showed it in his eye and voice, but he always insisted that I should
get the “maximum,” that he would never be perfectly satisfied with less.
That I did sometimes win it, deservedly, I know was due to his judicious
and wise method of exciting my ambition and perseverance. I have
endeavoured to show how fond my father was of his children, and as the
best picture I can offer of his loving, tender devotion to us all,
I give here a letter from him written about this time to one of
his daughters who was staying with our grandmother, Mrs. Custis, at
Arlington:
“West Point, February 25, 1853
“My Precious Annie: I take advantage of your gracious permission to
write to you, and there is no telling how far my feelings might carry
men were I not limited by the conveyance furnished by the Mim’s [His pet
name for my mother] letter, which lies before me, and which must, the
Mim says so, go in this morning’s mail. But my limited time does not
diminish my affection for you, Annie, nor prevent my thinking of you and
wishing for you. I long to see you through the dilatory nights. At dawn
when I rise, and all day, my thoughts revert to you in expressions that
you cannot hear or I repeat. I hope you will always appear to me as you
are now painted on my heart, and that you will endeavor to improve and
so conduct yourself as to make you happy and me joyful all our lives.
Diligent and earnest attention to ALL your duties can only accomplish
this. I am told you are growing very tall, and I hope very straight. I
do not know what the Cadets will say if the Superintendent’s CHILDREN
do not practice what he demands of them. They will naturally say he had
better attend to his own before he corrects other people’s children, and
as he permits his to stoop it is hard he will not allow them. You and
Agnes [His third daughter] must not, therefore, bring me into discredit
with my young friends, or give them reason to think that I require more
of them than of my own. I presume your mother has told all about us, our
neighbors, and our affairs. And indeed she may have done that and not
said much either, so far as I know. But we are all well and have much to
be grateful for. To-morrow we anticipate the pleasure of your brother’s
[His son, Custis] company, which is always a source of pleasure to us.
It is the only time we see him, except when the Corps come under my view
at some of their exercises, when my eye is sure to distinguish him among
his comrades and follow him over the plain. Give much love to your dear
grandmother, grandfather, Agnes, Miss Sue, Lucretia, and all friends,
including the servants. Write sometimes, and think always of your
Affectionate father, R. E. Lee.”
In a letter to my mother written many years previous to this time, he
says:
“I pray God to watch over and direct our efforts in guarding our dear
little son....Oh, what pleasure I lose in being separated from my
children! Nothing can compensate me for that....”
In another letter of about the same time:
“You do not know how much I have missed you and the children, my dear
Mary. To be alone in a crowd is very solitary. In the woods, I feel
sympathy with the trees and birds, in whose company I take delight, but
experience no pleasure in a strange crowd. I hope you are all well and
will continue so, and, therefore, must again urge you to be very prudent
and careful of those dear children. If I could only get a squeeze at
that little fellow, turning up his sweet mouth to ‘keese baba!’ You
must not let him run wild in my absence, and will have to exercise
firm authority over all of them. This will not require severity or even
strictness, but constant attention and an unwavering course. Mildness
and forbearance will strengthen their affection for you, while it will
maintain your control over them.”
In a letter to one of his sons he writes as follows:
“I cannot go to bed, my dear son, without writing you a few lines,
to thank you for your letter, which gave me great pleasure....You and
Custis must take great care of your kind mother and dear sisters when
your father is dead. To do that you must learn to be good. Be true,
kind and generous, and pray earnestly to God to enable you to keep His
Commandments ‘and walk in the same all the days of your life.’ I hope to
come on soon to see that little baby you have got to show me. You must
give her a kiss for me, and one to all the children, to your mother, and
grandmother”
The expression of such sentiments as these was common to my father all
through his life, and to show that it was all children, and not his own
little folk alone that charmed and fascinated him, I quote from a letter
to my mother:
“...I saw a number of little girls all dressed up in their white frocks
and pantalets, their hair plaited and tied up with ribbons, running and
chasing each other in all directions. I counted twenty-three nearly the
same size. As I drew up my horse to admire the spectacle, a man appeared
at the door with the twenty-fourth in his arms.
“‘My friend,’ said I, ‘are all these your children?’
“‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and there are nine more in the house, and this is the
youngest.’
“Upon further inquiry, however, I found that they were only temporarily
his, and that they were invited to a party at his house. He said,
however, he had been admiring them before I came up, and just wished
that he had a million of dollars, and that they were all his in reality.
I do not think the eldest exceeded seven or eight years old. It was the
prettiest sight I have seen in the west, and, perhaps, in my life....”
As Superintendent of the Military Academy at West Point my father had
to entertain a good deal, and I remember well how handsome and grand he
looked in uniform, how genial and bright, how considerate of everybody’s
comfort of mind and body. He was always a great favourite with the
ladies, especially the young ones. His fine presence, his gentle,
courteous manners and kindly smile put them at once at ease with him.
Among the cadets at this time were my eldest brother, Custis, who
graduated first in his class in 1854, and my father’s nephew, Fitz. Lee,
a third classman, besides other relatives and friends. Saturday being a
half-holiday for the cadets, it was the custom for all social events in
which they were to take part to be placed on that afternoon or evening.
Nearly every Saturday a number of these young men were invited to our
house to tea, or supper, for it was a good, substantial meal. The misery
of some of these lads, owing to embarrassment, possibly from awe of the
Superintendent, was pitiable and evident even to me, a boy of ten or
eleven years old. But as soon as my father got command, as it were, of
the situation, one could see how quickly most of them were put at
their ease. He would address himself to the task of making them feel
comfortable and at home, and his genial manner and pleasant ways at once
succeeded.
In the spring of ‘53 my grandmother, Mrs. Custis, died. This was the
first death in our immediate family. She was very dear to us, and was
admired, esteemed and loved by all who had ever known her. Bishop Meade,
of Virginia, writes of her:
“Mrs. Mary Custis, of Arlington, the wife of Mr. Washington Custis,
grandson of Mrs. General Washington was the daughter of Mr. William
Fitzhugh, of Chatham. Scarcely is there a Christian lady in our land
more honoured than she was, and none more loved and esteemed. For good
sense, prudence, sincerity, benevolence, unaffected piety, disinterested
zeal in every good work, deep humanity and retiring modesty--for all the
virtues which adorn the wife, the mother, and the friend--I never knew
her superior.”
In a letter written to my mother soon after this sad event my father
says:
“May God give you strength to enable you to bear and say, ‘His will
be done.’ She has gone from all trouble, care and sorrow to a holy
immortality, there to rejoice and praise forever the God and Saviour
she so long and truly served. Let that be our comfort and that our
consolation. May our death be like hers, and may we meet in happiness in
Heaven.”
In another letter about the same time he writes:
“She was to me all that a mother could be, and I yield to none in
admiration for her character, love for her virtues, and veneration for
her memory.”
At this time, my father’s family and friends persuaded him to allow R.
S. Weir, Professor of Painting and Drawing at the Academy, to paint
his portrait. As far as I remember, there was only one sitting, and the
artist had to finish it from memory or from the glimpses he obtained as
his subject in the regular course of their daily lives at “The Point.”
This picture shows my father in the undress uniform of a Colonel of
Engineers [His appointment of Superintendent of the Military Academy
carried with it the temporary rank of Colonel of Engineers], and
many think it a very good likeness. To me, the expression of strength
peculiar to his face is wanting, and the mouth fails to portray that
sweetness of disposition so characteristic of his countenance. Still,
it was like him at that time. My father never could bear to have his
picture taken, and there are no likenesses of him that really give his
sweet expression. Sitting for a picture was such a serious business with
him that he never could “look pleasant.”
In 1855 my father was appointed to the lieutenant-colonelcy of the
Second Cavalry, one of the two regiments just raised. He left West Point
to enter upon his new duties, and his family went to Arlington to live.
During the fall and winter of 1855 and ‘56, the Second Cavalry was
recruited and organised at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, under the
direction of Colonel Lee, and in the following spring was marched to
western Texas, where it was assigned the duty of protecting the settlers
in that wild country.
I did not see my father again until he came to my mother at Arlington
after the death of her father, G. W. P. Custis, in October 1857. He took
charge of my mother’s estate after her father’s death, and commenced at
once to put it in order--not an easy task, as it consisted of several
plantations and many negroes. I was at a boarding-school, after
the family returned to Arlington, and saw my father only during the
holidays, if he happened to be at home. He was always fond of farming,
and took great interest in the improvements he immediately began at
Arlington relating to the cultivation of the farm, to the buildings,
roads, fences, fields, and stock, so that in a very short time the
appearance of everything on the estate was improved. He often said that
he longed for the time when he could have a farm of his own, where
he could end his days in quiet and peace, interested in the care and
improvement of his own land. This idea was always with him. In a letter
to his son, written in July, ‘65, referring to some proposed indictments
of prominent Confederates, he says:
“...As soon as I can ascertain their intention toward me, if not
prevented, I shall endeavour to procure some humble, but quiet abode
for your mother and sisters, where I hope they can be happy. As I before
said, I want to get in some grass country where the natural product of
the land will do much for my subsistence....”
Again in a letter to his son, dated October, 1865, after he had accepted
the presidency of Washington College, Lexington, Virginia:
“I should have selected a more quiet life and a more retired abode than
Lexington. I should have preferred a small farm, where I could have
earned my daily bread.”
About this time I was given a gun of my own and was allowed to go
shooting by myself. My father, to give me an incentive, offered a reward
for every crow-scalp I could bring him, and, in order that I might get
to work at once, advanced a small sum with which to buy powder and shot,
this sum to be returned to him out of the first scalps obtained. My
industry and zeal were great, my hopes high, and by good luck I did
succeed in bagging two crows about the second time I went out. I showed
them with great pride to my father, intimating that I should shortly be
able to return him his loan, and that he must be prepared to hand over
to me very soon further rewards for my skill. His eyes twinkled, and his
smile showed that he had strong doubts of my making an income by killing
crows, and he was right, for I never killed another, though I tried hard
and long.
I saw but little of my father after we left West Point. He went to
Texas, as I have stated, in ‘55 and remained until the fall of ‘57, the
time of my grandfather’s death. He was then at Arlington about a year.
Returning to his regiment, he remained in Texas until the autumn of ‘59,
when he came again to Arlington, having applied for leave in order to
finish the settling of my grandfather’s estate. During this visit he
was selected by the Secretary of War to suppress the famous “John Brown
Raid,” and was sent to Harper’s Ferry in command of the United States
troops.
From his memorandum book the following entries were taken:
“October 17, 1859. Received orders from the Secretary of War in person,
to repair in evening train to Harper’s Ferry.
“Reached Harper’s Ferry at 11 P.M.... Posted marines in the United
States Armory. Waited until daylight, as a number of citizens were held
as hostages, whose lives were threatened. Tuesday about sunrise,
with twelve marines, under Lieutenant Green, broke in the door of the
engine-house, secured the insurgents, and relieved the prisoners unhurt.
All the insurgents killed or mortally wounded, but four, John Brown,
Stevens, Coppie, and Shields.”
Brown was tried and convicted and sentenced to be hanged on December 2,
1859. Colonel Lee writes as follows to his wife:
“Harper’s Ferry, December 1, 1859.
“I arrived here, dearest Mary, yesterday about noon, with four companies
from Fort Monroe, and was busy all the evening and night getting
accommodation for the men, etc., and posting sentinels and piquets to
insure timely notice of the approach of the enemy. The night has passed
off quietly. The feelings of the community seem to be calmed down, and
I have been received with every kindness. Mr. Fry is among the officers
from Old Point. There are several young men, former acquaintances of
ours, as cadets, Mr. Bingham of Custis’s class, Sam Cooper, etc., but
the senior officers I never met before, except Captain Howe, the friend
of our Cousin Harriet R----.
“I presume we are fixed her till after the 16th. To-morrow will probably
be the last of Captain Brown. There will be less interest for the
others, but still I think the troops will not be withdrawn till they are
similarly disposed of.
“Custis will have informed you that I had to go to Baltimore the
evening I left you, to make arrangements for the transportation of the
troops.... This morning I was introduced to Mrs. Brown, who, with a Mrs.
Tyndall and a Mr. And Mrs. McKim, all from Philadelphia, had come on to
have a last interview with her husband. As it is a matter over which I
have no control I referred them to General Taliaferro [General William
B. Taliaferro, commanding Virginia troops at Harper’s Ferry].
“You must write to me at this place. I hope you are all well. Give love
to everybody. Tell Smith [Sydney Smith Lee, of the United States Navy,
his brother] that no charming women have insisted on taking care of me
as they are always doing of him--I am left to my own resources. I will
write you again soon, and will always be truly and affectionately yours,
“Mrs. M. C. Lee. R. E. Lee.”
In February, 1860, he was ordered to take command of the Department of
Texas. There he remained a year. The first months after his arrival
were spent in the vain pursuit of the famous brigand, Cortinez, who was
continually stealing across the Rio Grande, burning the homes, driving
off the stock of the ranchmen, and then retreating into Mexico. The
summer months he spent in San Antonio, and while there interested
himself with the good people of that town in building an Episcopal
church, to which he contributed largely.