It is probable that Lee would have been well content to remain
indefinitely at Baltimore, for his duties there enabled him to be more
with his family than had been possible for some years. To his boys and
girls he was both a companion and a friend and in their company he took
the keenest delight. In fact, he and his wife made their home the center
of attraction for all the young people of the neighborhood, and no
happier household existed within the confines of their beloved Virginia.
It was not to be expected, however, that an officer of Lee's reputation
would be allowed to remain long in obscurity, and in 1852, he was
appointed Superintendent at West Point. A wiser selection for this
important post could scarcely have been made, for Colonel Lee, then
in his forty-sixth year, possessed rare qualifications for the duties
entrusted to his charge. He was not only a man whose splendid presence,
magnificent physique and distinguished record were certain to win the
admiration and respect of young men, but he combined in his character
and temperament all the qualities of a tactful teacher and an inspiring
leader. Quiet and dignified, but extremely sympathetic, he governed
the cadets without seeming to command them and, as at his own home, he
exerted a peculiarly happy influence upon all with whom he came into
personal contact. Among the cadets during his service at West Point were
J. E. B. Stuart, who was to prove himself one of the greatest cavalry
leaders that this country has ever produced, and his elder son, Custis
Lee, who, improving on his father's almost perfect record, graduated
first in his class.
About this time certain important changes were effected in the
organization of the regular army, and the popular Superintendent of West
Point was immediately appointed Lieutenant-Colonel of the newly formed
Second Cavalry, with orders to proceed to Texas and protect the settlers
against the attacks of hostile Indians. It was with keen regret that
Lee received this assignment, for, though intended as a promotion, it
removed him from the corps of engineers to which he had always been
attached and obliged him to break all his home ties for what was
practically police duty in the wilderness. Nevertheless, no thought of
resigning from the army apparently crossed his mind. He soon joined
his regiment in Texas, where, for almost three years, he patrolled the
country, ruling the Indians by diplomacy or force, as occasion required,
practically living in the saddle and experiencing all the discomforts
and privations of garrison life at an outpost of civilization.
Almost his only relaxation during this lonely and exhausting service was
his correspondence with his wife and children, and his letters to them,
written in rough camps and on the march, show that his thoughts were
constantly with his home and loved ones. "It has been said that our
letters are good representations of our minds," he wrote his youngest
daughter from Texas in 1857; and certainly Lee's correspondence,
exhibiting as it does, consideration for others, modesty,
conscientiousness, affection and a spirit of fun, affords an admirable
reflection of the writer.
"Did I tell you that 'Jim Nooks,' Mrs. Waite's cat, was dead?" he wrote
one of his girls. "He died of apoplexy. I foretold his end. Coffee
and cream for breakfast, pound cake for lunch, turtle and oysters for
dinner, buttered toast for tea and Mexican rats, taken raw, for supper!
He grew enormously and ended in a spasm. His beauty could not save
him.... But I saw 'cats as is cats' at Sarassa.... The entrance of
Madame [his hostess] was foreshadowed by the coming in of her stately
cats with visages grim and tails erect, who preceded, surrounded and
followed her. They are of French breed and education, and when the
claret and water were poured out for my refreshment they jumped on the
table for a sit-to.... I had to leave the wild-cat on the Rio Grande;
he was too savage and had grown as large as a small sized dog. He would
pounce on a kid as Tom Tita [his daughter's cat] would on a mouse and
would whistle like a tiger when you approached him."
But it was not always in this chatty fashion that he wrote, for in 1856,
when the question of slavery was being fiercely discussed throughout
the country, he expressed his views on the subject with a moderation and
broadmindedness exceedingly rare in those excited times.
"In this enlightened age," he wrote his wife, "there are few, I believe,
but will acknowledge that slavery as an institution is a moral and
political evil in any country. I think it, however, a greater evil to
the white than to the black race; and while my feelings are strongly
interested in behalf of the latter, my sympathies are stronger for
the former. The blacks are immeasurably better off here than in
Africa--morally, socially and physically. The painful discipline they
are undergoing is necessary for their instruction as a race and I hope
it will prepare and lead them to better things. How long this subjection
may be necessary is known and ordered by a wise and merciful Providence.
Their emancipation will sooner result from a mild and melting influence
than from the storms and contests of fiery controversy. This influence
though slow is sure."
Such were the views of Robert Lee on this great question of the day, and
even as he wrote the country was beginning to notice a country lawyer
named Abraham Lincoln, who was expressing almost identically the same
opinions in no uncertain terms.
But the calm advice of Lincoln and Lee did not appeal to the hot-heads
who were for abolishing slavery instantly at any and every cost. In
October, 1859, when Lee was on a short visit to Arlington, John Brown,
whose father had once lived with Grant's father, attempted to take
the whole matter into his already blood-stained hands. It is a strange
coincidence that Lee should have chanced to be in Virginia just at this
particular crisis, and still stranger that the errand which had called
him home should have related to the emancipation of slaves. But the
facts were that Mr. Custis, his father-in-law, had died a few weeks
previously, leaving him as the executor of his will, which provided,
among other things, for the gradual emancipation of all his slaves.
Lee had accordingly obtained leave of absence to make a flying trip to
Virginia for the purpose of undertaking this duty, and he was actually
making arrangements to carry out Mr. Custis's wishes in respect to his
slaves when the news of John Brown's raid on Harper's Ferry reached
Arlington. Word of this reckless attempt to free the slaves by force
reached him in the form of a dispatch from the Secretary of War,
ordering him to take immediate charge of the United States marines who
were being hurried to the scene of action. He instantly obeyed and,
with Lieutenant J. E. B. Stuart as his second in command, hastened to
Harper's Ferry and, directing his troops to storm the engine-house where
Brown and his followers had taken refuge, effected their capture almost
without striking a blow. Then, after delivering his prisoners to the
proper authorities, he completed his work at Arlington and returned to
Texas and the rough life of guarding the frontier line.
From this duty he was recalled to Washington in March, 1861, when the
Southern States were rapidly forming the Confederacy, the whole country
was in wild confusion and the nation was facing the prospect of a
terrific civil war.