Recollections and Letters of General Robert E. Lee, Captain Robert E. Lee [classic books for 13 year olds txt] 📗

can at least make up fires, and go on errands, and attend to the yard and stable. I have heard nothing of Jimmy. Give my kind regards to all at ‘Bremo.’ Custis is well and went to the boat to meet you this morning. The boat stops one and one-quarter miles from town. Remain aboard until we come.

 

“Most affectionately yours, R. E. Lee.

 

“P.S.—Since writing the foregoing I have received your letter of the 28th. I shall expect you Saturday morning. R. E. L.

 

“Mrs. M. C. Lee.”

 

At this time the packet-boat from Lynchburg to Lexington, via the James River and Kanawha Canal, was the easiest way of reaching Lexington from the outside world. It was indeed the only way, except by stage from Goshen, twenty-one miles distant, a station of the Chesapeake &

Ohio R. R. The canal ran from Lynchburg to Richmond, and just after the war did a large business. The boats were very uncertain in their schedules, and my father was therefore very particular in his directions to my mother, to insure her as far as he could a comfortable journey [my father was not aware, when he wrote such explicit directions about the route, that Colonel Ellis had again put his boat at my mother’s service].

 

We did get off at last, and after a very comfortable trip arrived at Lexington on the morning of December 2d. My father, on Traveller, was there to meet us, and, putting us all in a carriage, escorted us to our new home. On arriving, we found awaiting us a delicious breakfast sent by Mrs. Nelson, the wife of Professor Nelson. The house was in good order—thanks to the ladies of Lexington—but rather bare of furniture, except my mother’s rooms. Mrs. Cocke had completely furnished them, and her loving thoughtfulness had not forgotten the smallest detail. Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, the talented and well-known poetess, had drawn the designs for the furniture, and a one-armed Confederate soldier had made it all. A handsomely carved grand piano, presented by Stieff, the famous maker of Baltimore, stood alone in the parlour. The floors were covered with the carpets rescued from Arlington—much too large and folded under to suit the reduced size of the rooms. Some of the bedrooms were partially furnished, and the dining-room had enough in it to make us very comfortable. We were all very grateful and happy—glad to get home—the only one we had had for four long years.

 

My father appeared bright and even gay. He was happy in seeing us all, and in knowing that my mother was comfortably established near to him.

He showed us over the house, and pointed with evident satisfaction to the goodly array of pickles, preserves, and brandy-peaches which our kind neighbors had placed in the storeroom. Indeed, for days and weeks afterward supplies came pouring in to my mother from the people in the town and country, even from the poor mountaineers, who, anxious to “do something to help General Lee,” brought in hand-bags of walnuts, potatoes, and game. Such kindness—delicate and considerate always—as was shown to my father’s family by the people, both of the town and the country around, not only then but to this day, has never been surpassed in any community. It was a tribute of love and sympathy from honest and tender hearts to the man who had done all that he could do for them.

 

My father was much interested in all the arrangements of the house, even to the least thing. He would laugh merrily over the difficulties that appalled the rest of us. Our servants were few and unskilled, but his patience and self-control never failed. The silver of the family had been sent to Lexington for safe-keeping early in the war.

When General Hunger raided the Valley of Virginia and advanced upon Lexington, to remove temptation out of his way, this silver, in two large chests, had been intrusted to the care of the old and faithful sergeant at the Virginia Military Institute, and he had buried it in some safe place known only to himself. I was sent out with him to dig it up and bring it in. We found it safe and sound, but black with mould and damp, useless for the time being, so my father opened his camp-chest and we used his forks, spoons, plates, etc., while his camp-stools supplied the deficiency in seats. He often teased my sisters about their experiments in cookery and household arts, encouraging them to renewed efforts after lamentable failures. When they succeeded in a dish for the table, or completed any garment with their own hands, he was lavish with his praise. He would say: “You are all very helpless; I don’t know what you will do when I am gone,” and

 

“If you want to be missed by your friends—be useful.”

 

He at once set to work to improve all around him, laid out a vegetable garden, planted roses and shrubs, set out fruit and yard trees, made new walks and repaired the stables, so that in a short time we were quite comfortable and very happy. He at last had a home of his own, with his wife and daughters around him, and though it was not the little farm in the quiet country for which he had so longed, it was very near to it, and it gave rest to himself and those he loved most dearly.

 

His duties as president of Washington College were far from light.

His time was fully occupied, and his new position did not relieve him from responsibility, care and anxiety. He took pains to become acquainted with each student personally, to be really his guide and friend. Their success gratified and pleased him, and their failures, in any degree, pained and grieved him, and their failures, in any degree, pained and grieved him. He felt that he was responsible for their well-doing and progress, and he worked very hard to make them good students and useful men.

 

The grounds and buildings of the college soon began to show his care, attention, and good taste. In all his life, wherever he happened to be, he immediately set to work to better his surroundings. The sites selected for his headquarter camps during the war, if occupied for more than a day, showed his tasteful touch. When superintendent at West Point, the improvements suggested and planned by him were going on for the three years he remained there. Very soon after he assumed charge of Arlington, the place showed, in its improved condition, the effects of his energetic industry. The college at Lexington was a splendid field for the exercise of his abilities in this line. The neighbouring Virginia Military Institute soon followed teh example he had set, and after a year the municipal authorities of Lexington were aroused to the necessity of bettering their streets and sidewalks, and its inhabitants realised the need of improving and beautifying their homes. He managed a very large correspondence, answering every letter when possible, the greater proportion with his own hand. To the members of his own family who were away he wrote regularly, and was their best correspondent on home matters, telling in his charming way all the sayings and doings of the household and the neighbours.

 

My sister Agnes had gone to the wedding of Miss Warwick direct from “Bremo,” and was in Richmond when my father sent her two of the first letters he wrote after the arrival of my mother in Lexington: “Lexington, Virginia, December 5, 1865.

 

“My Worrying Little Agnes: your letter of the 1st received to-night.

I have autographed the photographs and send a gross of the latter and a lock of hair. Present my love to the recipients and thank them for their favours. Sally is going to marry a widower. I think I ought to know, as she refused my son, and I do not wish to know his name.

I wonder if she knows how many children he has. Tell Mr. Warwick I am sorry for him. I do not know what he will do without his sweet daughter. Nor do I know what I will do without her, either. Your mother has written—Mildred, too—and I presume has told you all domestic news. Custis is promenading the floor, Rob reading the papers, and Mildred packing her dress. Your mamma is up to her eyes in news and I am crabbed as usual. I miss you very much and hope this is the last wedding you will attend. Good-bye. Love to everybody.

 

“Your affectionate father, R. E. Lee.

 

“Miss Agnes Lee.”

 

The other is dated nearly a month later, and from this it appears that the wedding so often referred to is about to take place: “Lexington, Virginia, January 3, 1866.

 

“My Precious Little Agnes: I sat down to give my dear little Sally—

for she is dear to me in the broadest, highest sense of the word—the benefit of Jeremy Taylor’s opinion on hasty marriages. But, on reflection, I fear it would be words lost, for your mother says her experience has taught her that when a young woman makes up her mind to get married, you might as well let her alone. You must, therefore, just thank her for the pretty inkstand, and say that I’ll need no reminder of her, but I do not know when I shall make up my mind to stain it with ink. I was very glad to receive your letter of the 26th, and to think that you were mindful of us. I know you do not wish to be away, though you are striving to get as far away as possible.

When you reach Norfolk, you will be so convenient to New York, whence steamers depart almost daily for Europe. Let us know when you sail.

But I do not write to restrain your movements, though you know how solitary I am without you. I inclose…which, with what I gave Mildred, I hope will answer your purpose. Send me or bring me the photographs I asked for. I like them of the last edition; they seem to take with the little school-girls, and I have nothing else to give them. I hope you will have a safe and pleasant trip. Tell Mr. Warwick I shall sorrow with him to-night—though I believe Mrs. Lee is right. Remember me to all friends, and believe me,

 

“Your devoted father, R. E. Lee.

 

“Miss Agnes Lee.”

 

The latter part of January my father was sent by the board of trustees to Richmond to converse with the Committee on Education of the Virginia Legislature, then in session, as to some funds of the State held by Washington College. His mission was, I believe, successful, and great material aid was gained. He remained no long than was absolutely necessary, and, returning to his duties at Lexington, encountered a severe snow-storm. The difficulties he had to overcome are described in the following letter to his daughter Agnes, whom he had met in Richmond, and who had gone from there to visit some friends in Norfolk: “Lexington, Virginia, January 29, 1866.

 

“My Precious Little Agnes: I have received your letter of the 17th, transmitting the photographs, for which I am very much obliged. I returned the one for Miss Laura Lippett, whom I wish I could see once again. It would be more agreeable to me than any photograph. I had quite a successful journey up, notwithstanding the storm. The snow increased as we approached the mountains, and night had set in before we reached Staunton. The next morning, before sunrise, in spite of the predictions of the wise ones, I took passage on the single car which was attached to the locomotive, and arrived at Goshen about 10

A. M., where, after some little