Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Gray (31 page)

Publication of Papa's book had stirred unpleasant thoughts of him and his other daughter. The secret lay like a stone in my heart. Before I could decide whether to tell Markie about my mulatto half sister, Selina came in to scrub the floors, Ephraim
arrived to ask about pruning the roses, and George informed me that we were out of lard and flour. The next day Markie left on an extended visit to our kin in Kent County, and the moment in which I might have unburdened myself to my cousin was lost.

Lincoln won the election, and by the time Robert came home from Texas the following spring, I had much more serious things to occupy my mind. South Carolina had made good on the threat of secession, and other states quickly followed. In early April the newspapers reported accounts of the firing upon Union troops attempting to supply Fort Sumter, just off Charleston. Their actions seemed to embolden the men of Virginia, who voted to join the Confederates.

Each day brought us closer to disaster. Robert refused President Lincoln's offer to lead the Union forces and huddled with his brother Smith and his old friend General Scott, debating whether to resign his commission in the United States Army.

“What shall I do?” he asked one evening a few days later. The girls had gone off to bed and we were alone in the parlor, where a small fire blazed against the April chill. “General Scott advises that if I am to resign I should do so at once. And he's right. I cannot retain the respect of my fellow officers when my loyalties are so divided.”

Plainly, this was the greatest struggle of his life, and there was so little I could offer him. “Both parties are in the wrong, but somehow the Union must be preserved. I can't pray that God will prosper the right, because I see no right in this matter. But I know you, my dearest husband. Whichever way you go will be the path of duty. You will think it right, and so I shall be satisfied.”

“Thank you, Mary.” He got to his feet. “I should like some time alone.”

He went into his office and closed the door.

The stairs creaked, and our daughters came into the parlor.

“We are too upset to sleep,” Agnes said. “Is Papa all right?”

Charles came in to clear the dining room and light the lamps.

“Colonel Lee sure looked worried tonight,” he said, shaking his head. “Hardly touched his dinner. You need anything else, Mrs. Lee?”

“Nothing. Thank you, Charles.”

“Yessum. Reckon I ought to go on home then.”

The door closed behind him. The girls and I sat in gloomy silence. Agnes pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. “Oh, Mother, Arlington feels just as bereft as it did when Grandmama died. So cold and sad. How can Papa possibly decide to leave the army? It has been to him home and country for my entire life.”

“I think it's stupid to even think that the country can be split in two,” Mildred said. “Papa ought to stand with the Union.”

“And let Lincoln's troops overrun Virginia and tell us how to manage our own affairs?” Mary Custis slammed her book closed and glared at her sister. “You are naive to think he wishes anything less than the total destruction of the South. Secession is the only way to prevent it.”

The clock chimed midnight, and Robert's door remained closed.

“I'm tired of this death watch,” Agnes said. “I'm going to bed, Mama.”

When morning came I found Robert sitting in the parlor, staring out the window, weary but utterly calm. Two letters lay on the table beside the chair.

“Mary. Where are the girls?” His voice was in tatters, his cheeks so hollow and shadowed I was afraid he had fallen ill.

“Getting dressed. George should be up with breakfast soon.”

Moments later the girls joined us in the parlor. Charles bustled in to set the table. Selina arrived to begin her chores but quickly withdrew when she saw us there, rumpled, bleary-eyed, and anxious.

Robert stood. “I suppose you will all think I have done very wrong.”

He handed me the letters. The first was but a single sentence addressed to the Secretary of War.

Sir: I have the honor to tender the resignation of my commission as Colonel of the 1st Regt of Cavalry.

The other, to General Scott, explained his struggle to separate himself from his profession of thirty years and thanked his old mentor for his kindness.

Your name and fame will always be dear to me. Save in defense of my native State, I never desire again to draw my sword.

My hands shook as I handed them back to him. I was terrified for him. For all of us. “Are you certain, Robert?”

He nodded.

“Then so am I.”

He summoned Billy to deliver the letters to the War Department, and thus our fate was sealed.

April 26, 1861

Richmond

My dear Mary,

I am very anxious about you. You have to move and make arrangements to go to some point of safety, which you must select. The Mt. Vernon plate and pictures ought to be secured. Keep quiet while you remain and in your preparations. War is inevitable, and there is no telling when it may burst around you.

“Mother?” Agnes joined me in the parlor. “You are pale as milk. What is it?”

I handed her the letter. “Your papa thinks we may be invaded.”

Only three weeks earlier, Robert, newly appointed to lead the Confederates in Virginia, kissed us in farewell and rode away from Arlington. Now he was preparing for the worst while I still prayed for some miracle to save us all from the coming carnage.

Agnes frowned. “What should we do?”

“Pack up the Washington treasures, as he directs. But I'm not certain we need to leave just yet.”

“I read in the paper last week that some in the South are burying their treasures in their backyards,” Agnes said.

I had stopped reading the papers, especially those from the North, for they were full of hatred for my husband.

If Mr. Custis could have lived until now, he would have good cause to be bowed down in grief and sorrow to behold his son-in-law following in the steps of Benedict Arnold.

I promptly penned a succinct reply to the Washington paper.

I cannot conceive why Lincoln has assembled such an army
if it is not his intention to attempt to crush the South. I have but one great consolation now, that my dear parents are both laid low in their graves, where but for my children I would most gladly lie beside them.

“So will we bury the silver, Mother? The paintings and the plates? And where shall we go?”

“Hush, child. Let me think.”

“We could go to Ravensworth. Aunt Maria will take us in.” Agnes indicated the letter. “Papa says we must decide on our own where to go.”

I called for Selina. Together we filled two crates with our silver, our papers, and those of President Washington. Those I sent by rail to Robert for safekeeping. My books and engravings were locked into storage. Draperies and carpets, the Washington china, and the punch bowl that had been used at my wedding were hidden in the cellar. My girls and I worked feverishly by day and lay down at night in rooms stripped bare save for our beds. I slept fitfully, knowing that sooner or later I must flee. Dreading the moment when I must take my daughters and make for safety on my own.

A few days later I was outside, enjoying a rare moment of quiet among my flowers. The May morning had dawned warm and fair. The first roses of the season had come into bloom, and the air around me was thick with their sweet fragrance.

Markie's brother, Orton Williams, rode into the yard and began speaking even before he dismounted.

“Mary, the Union army is camped just across the river.” His face was tight with worry. “General McDowell intends to use Arlington as a base for protecting the capital. You are going to have to get out. Today, if you can manage it.”

“But that's impossible.”

“The servants and Mister McQuinn can help you. Just take the most valuable things. I'd stay to help you if I could, but I'm needed elsewhere.” He looked toward the house. “Is Agnes here?”

“In the study, packing up her grandfather's globe.”

Just then Agnes appeared on the porch. Orton strode across the yard and spoke with her most earnestly, though I couldn't hear what he said. He retraced his steps and planted a swift kiss on my cheek. “Markie sends her love and says to tell you she will catch up with you as soon as she can. Take care of yourself, Cousin. And pray this war is over swiftly.”

Orton swung up and rode away. I summoned the overseer and gave him instructions for looking after the grounds. I set Daniel and his son to packing up our trunks, some paintings, and our housekeeping items. Daughter and Agnes went back and forth from the house to the wagons, loading their belongings. I was too busy and too frightened for emotion until Selina appeared with a bundle of clean linens.

“Here you are, Miss Mary. These are the ones scented with the lavender you are partial to.”

My heart was so heavy and my nerves so frayed that my reserve crumbled.

Selina frowned. “Now, you listen to me. You are just as well to dry those tears. We all got to be strong until this is over. Nothing we can do to change it, so we have to get through it best we can.”

“I know it. I wish you could come with me. But Robert says the army will start taking servants as contraband.”

“I can't risk it. Besides, who would look after my children?”

Mr. McQuinn, the overseer, arrived to help Daniel and Ephraim load the piano. When that was done he brushed his
hands together and looked around. “That's just about got it, I reckon, Mrs. Lee. Except for that walnut cupboard in the north hallway. If you want to take it, I can make room for it somehow.”

“Missus?” Daniel looked worried. “If we don't get going soon we gone be half the night getting to Ravensworth, and you told me yourself what your cousin said about the soldiers camping all around these parts.”

“He's right, Mama,” Agnes said. “We ought to get started.” Her eyes filled. “I miss Papa so much. And I sincerely hate leaving my home.”

“It can't be helped, child. Go get your cat, unless you intend to leave him behind.”

She ran into the house. I turned to Selina. “I want you to have the cupboard.”

“I can't take your cupboard, Miss Mary. I used to leave Mr. Robert's buttermilk in there most every night.”

“Well, he won't have time for buttermilk until this war is over, and heaven alone knows when that will be. You may as well take it. And the blue-and-white pitcher we keep there too. I know you have always admired it.”

Selina stood there with her hands on her hips, her eyes welling up.

My own eyes burned. For thirty years Selina had been my comfort; at times she had been my conscience. I wanted to do something to help her. Something to keep her safe. But there was little I could do.

On impulse I took the last of the money I had with me from my travel bag and pressed the bills into her hand. “This isn't much, but it might save the day if you can't get the produce to market this fall.”

“I can't take your last dollar. You've got to eat too. You and the girls.”

“I'm related to half the population of Virginia. They won't let me starve.”

Agnes returned with her tom snuggled securely in the crook of her arm. “I'm ready, Mama.”

Selina shoved the bills into her pocket. “All right then. You planning to stand there till sundown, or you going to give me the keys?”

“What?”

“Well, somebody's got to look after Arlington till you get back.”

Without another word I handed Selina the keys. Daniel helped me into the carriage. The reins snapped and the wheels turned, taking me into exile.

B
efore Miss Mary's flowers had even finished blooming, the Yankee soldiers arrived. Dozens of blue-coated men on horseback and in wagons loaded with guns and tools and I don't know what all poured over the bridge and up the road to the house. White tents sprang up all over the grounds. The men chopped down trees for their cooking fires. They dug trenches and practiced marching, their orders shouted through a thick, gray cloud of woodsmoke hanging in the air.

Mister McQuinn kept his cold eye on the few of us still living in the quarters. In the long shadow of evening he would come up to the yard to drink with the officers on duty. Some nights I could hear them laughing, and I wondered if they weren't on the same side, even though the overseer was collecting his money from Colonel Lee.

Lawrence came back from southern Virginia with reports that the Yankees were building as many forts as fast as they could. Every day they dug trenches somewhere around Washington City, and Lawrence said those trenches were full of guns and ammunition. Day and night I worried about my children. The war was supposed to be about freedom, but moving around in Arlington's empty rooms, I sometimes felt like my dreams were
further away than when I was a child learning my letters at Miss Mary's knee.

Miss Markie showed up to get the things she kept there when she was in residence, and it was a pitiful sight, seeing her so full of grief for the old house. She locked herself inside the room and cried until she was out of tears. Then she asked me to come in and help her pack her trunks. While I was in there folding petticoats and shawls and whatnot, one of Miss Mildred's tomcats slipped into the room. Miss Markie scooped him up and cried some more.

I handed her my own handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

Finally she said, “Oh, Selina, this poor old house looks so desolate. Isn't it strange, how quickly everything has changed?” She set the cat on his feet and picked up her hatbox. “Last year we were all so happy here, so peaceful. Who in their wildest dreams could have conjured this present state of affairs?”

Miss Mary had sent Daniel with the carriage to take Miss Markie home, and he came in to tote her trunks outside. “You 'bout ready, Miss Markie?”