Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Gray (38 page)

Agnes spent her time looking after me, keeping me company when Robert went out for his solitary rides on Traveler. She was still so heartbroken over Orton, so quiet and sad that she scarcely noticed the heat and the isolation. But for poor Mildred, Derwent was a trial. At twenty, she was a lively and pretty girl with no friends about, reduced to a lonely existence reading novels and tending the chickens.

One afternoon when Robert returned from a long ride, I brought up the subject of our future.

“Mrs. Cocke is very kind, but we cannot prevail upon her hospitality forever.” I brought his tea, and we sat by the open window, hoping for a breeze. “Our daughters need a permanent home.”

Robert tossed his riding gloves onto a vacant chair and heaved a sigh. “What would you have me do, Mary? I agree this is not the ideal situation, but our future must be guided by circumstance.”

In that moment he seemed so discouraged and all seemed so dark that I was tempted to think Agnes was right, and God had indeed forsaken us. I was sorry that I had troubled my husband by raising the question. “You're right. Something will turn up. It must.”

He shook his head. “I expect to die a pauper. I see no way of preventing it. If only I can get enough for you and the girls, I am content.”

Summer came, and Robert was offered several positions at large salaries.

“Perhaps you ought to consider the offer from the insurance
company,” I ventured one night. It was too hot to sleep, and we lay in the dark listening to the sawing of cicadas in the grass, our borrowed bed linens going damp in the heat.

“What do I know about such an enterprise?” Robert turned his pillow over to the cooler side. “I couldn't contribute anything useful. They only want my name, Mary, and the Lee name is not for sale.”

Then one day Judge Brockenbrough, the rector of Washington College in Lexington, rode in with a letter inviting Robert to become president of the college. As desperate as we were for an income and a home of our own, I was not in favor of it. For one thing, the salary was only fifteen hundred dollars a year, and for another, I had not forgotten Robert's unhappiness during his years as superintendent at West Point. Washington College, which was, according to the judge, practically insolvent, with an outmoded curriculum and a dwindling enrollment, did not seem any more promising.

“I know it seems we have little to offer you, General Lee,” the judge said. “But the trustees intend to provide a president's home that will be erected according to your specifications, and we intend that Mrs. Lee shall have the lifetime use of it.”

I knew then the deal was sealed, for nothing had worried Robert more than the question of how to provide a suitable home for me and his three daughters. His entire life was a response to the call of duty, and now his foremost duty was to his family. And though I prayed daily for my girls, it seemed unlikely that any of them would find good and honest men to love them as I was loved. The war had taken all but the very old, the very young, and the infirm.

The judge went on. “Further, the trustees pledge their support in your reorganizing the course of study as you see fit, and in the disciplining of the students. You won't encounter any interference from us, sir.”

Robert turned the letter over and over in his hands. “It's a kind offer, and I shall give it my most serious consideration.”

“We hope to have a new president installed for the fall term, General.” The judge got to his feet. “I do hope we may have your answer soon.”

With a courtly bow to me and the girls, he descended the steps and rode away.

“Well, Molly, what do you think?” Robert sat down next to me and clasped my hand. “Would you mind very much being the wife of a college president?”

I reminded him of his years of discontent at West Point. “If you are happy, I will be satisfied. But you ought to be certain such work will not be too disagreeable.”

At the end of the month he wrote to the college, accepting their offer, and in mid-September he swung up on Traveler for the four-day ride to Lexington. I remained at Derwent with my daughters until November, when Rob arrived to escort us to our new home.

“Good news, Mama,” Rob said, kissing my cheek. “Custis has joined the faculty at VMI, so he will be right there in Lexington to help you and Papa.”

The prospect of having my firstborn so near cheered me, for I wanted nothing more than to gather up the tattered remnants of my family and mend them, to make them as whole as it was possible to be.

We boarded the boat and arrived in Lexington on December second with Daughter and Mildred.

“Mary.” Robert held Traveler's reins in one hand and handed me a box of chocolates with the other. “There are no roses blooming this time of year, but I wanted to welcome you home.”

I squeezed Robert's hand and reached up to stroke Traveler's face. The horse rewarded me with a hot, grassy snuffle that made us laugh.

Robert looked around. “Where is dear Aggie?”

“Helping Mrs. Cocke close up Derwent. She will be along presently.”

Mary Custis and Mildred came ashore and kissed their father. Rob settled me into the carriage for the short ride to the college.

By the time the last of the trunks was unpacked, Christmas Day was upon us.

A letter from Selina arrived.

We had a better harvest this fall, Mrs. Lee, and were able to save quite a bit toward buying our land. We bought small gifts for all our children this year which were greeted with much excitement as I am sure you can imagine. Do you remember the fun we had at Arlington trying to catch each other out for Christmas gifts? How often do I remember those days and long to see you again.

I wished then for one quiet afternoon with my old friend, talking over times gone by. I regretted the great burden I had placed on her shoulders. I still had the few dollars I had sewn into my hem
during the last desperate days in Richmond. It was the only money under my personal control and the only currency that was worth anything. The defunct Confederacy was bankrupt; the bonds the government had issued were worthless. I took my threadbare dress from the clothes press and ripped open the hem.

December 25, 1865

Lexington, VA

Dear Selina,

We are settled at the college. All of my children except for Rooney are here for the holiday. You can imagine how their presence cheers me, yet the empty places at our table bring sadness, too, to this holy season. Yesterday Custis and Rob went out to cut greens for the house and I was reminded of our many Christmases at Arlington. Of the days that are no more.

I am much encouraged that you are planning to purchase the farm. Nothing can ever repay your courage and loyalty to me and to Arlington, but perhaps these few Yankee dollars might hasten the day when you will have a home of your own.

With kind remembrances to your family, I remain yr devoted friend, MC Lee

“Mama?” Precious Life wedged herself into the corner of my chair. “What's the matter? Why are you crying?”

I tucked away the letter. “Oh, don't mind me, child. I'm just an old woman in mourning for the past.”

“You aren't old! But, oh, I miss Arlington too. I know Papa is excited to have a job at last, but Lexington is so dreary. And I simply detest those Federals at the garrison. I think they make a fuss about the freedman's bureau sometimes just to embarrass Papa.”

Mary Custis and Agnes came in, their faces smudged with flour, aprons streaked with gravy.

“We did it, Mother,” Daughter announced. “We made Christmas dinner by ourselves.”

Agnes grinned and dropped a curtsy. “Dinner is served.”

Mildred summoned Robert from his reading, and soon we were gathered around the table. Robert said our blessing, and for a moment it was possible to pretend that the war had never happened. That sweet Annie had never died. That Arlington was still mine.

If the trustees had thought that in hiring Robert Edward Lee they were getting a mere figurehead, they were soon disabused of that notion, for he threw himself into the improving of his college with everything that was in him.

His duties gave purpose to his days, and though I sometimes glimpsed a fleeting look of sadness in his eyes, he seemed content. Daily there came numerous requests for photographs of General Lee, for a snippet of his hair, for one of his buttons. And as he was very busy from morning till night, I attended to those requests. William Burke had written from Liberia with such a request, and one morning in autumn I received his thanks for my response.

August 16, 1867

Mrs. MC Lee

Dear Madam,

I received your letter by the ship Goleanda, which afforded us all much comfort to hear from you and your family and many friends and relation. We regret exceedingly to learn from your letter that you are still a cripple from rheumatism. We are glad to hear however that your health is good. Mr. Fitzhugh Lee I have no doubt will find the White House a pleasant place to live as it is a pretty place. I am glad to learn that your youngest son Mr. Robert Edward is such a prosperous farmer. Remember me kindly to these young gentlemen of yours and tell them I shall never forget them and that they have our best wishes. Remember us also kindly to the young ladies. Accept our thanks for the likeness of yourself and the general. Robert Edward is quite proud of it and calls it his Gen Lee. He is a remarkable fine child. He will be four years old the 9 of September.

The Gen looks about the same except that his beard seems to be frosted as though he had passed through many severe winters. Since my last attack of sickness old age begins to show itself very plainly in my beard and head. I shall be forty-eight the 8 of Sep'ber. I am able to preach once on Sabbath and to attend to a Bible class in the afternoon and look after my apprentices during the week who are learning the business of tanning and shoemaking. I have quite a number of coffee trees growing and I hope to send the Gen some coffee from my farm before long. Rose is quite busy all the time, having cows to milk and 18 in the family to look after. She is quite complaining at this time as she is expecting in a week or two. Mr. Gurley writes me that Ephraim is dead and that my mother is still living. I wrote to Selina but have not heard a word from her. Rose joins me in the kindest remembrance to
yourself and the Gen and all the family. Please write as often as you
can and tell us all the news.

Yr humble servant, Wm. C Burke

I pictured my mother then, and thought of how happy she would have been to read William's letter, to know that despite those who criticized us and the work of the Colonization Society, we had made a difference in the lives of the Burke family. I could never repine of our actions that led to this result.

The years rolled on. Much was happening at the college. Enrollment was up, and the school was again solvent. Construction was completed on the new house. At Robert's request, large porches wrapped around the sides of the house, so that I might take advantage of the pleasant weather from the confines of my rolling chair. The house had running water for every purpose and a furnace with air ducts that brought welcome warmth to every room during the winter. Dear old Traveler and his equine companion Lucy Long were ensconced in a fine brick stable attached to the house. The milk cow had her own outbuilding, as did Mildred's many cats. At the rear of the property sat a woodshed and a greenhouse.

My daughters adjusted to life in a small mountain town. Occasionally young men from the college would find the courage to call at the house, at which time Robert and I ceded the parlor to the young people and occupied ourselves with our books in the dining room.

One evening in late September two students came to call on Precious Life and Agnes. Fitzhugh and Rob had recently returned
to their farms after a visit to us. Mary Custis was on another of her extended visits to our Turner cousins.

The weather was lovely, cool and clear, and Robert opened the bay windows in the dining room, from which we watched the lengthening shadows fall across the lawn. The campus was quiet. In the distance the old bell in Washington Hall tolled the hour. I sighed at the beauty of it.

Robert looked up from his book and smiled. “Are you happy, Mary?”

“I am content.”

“There is a difference.”

“Yes. I still dream of Arlington.”

From the parlor came the sounds of our daughters and their young men harmonizing as Mildred played the piano.

Robert closed his book and stared out the window for a long time. Since the war he had come to believe that taking a military education had been the greatest mistake of his life, and often he lapsed into pensive reveries upon which I rarely intruded.

But that evening I said, “A penny for your thoughts, my love.”

“I am thinking of my responsibility to almighty God for these hundreds of young men. Five years have gone since we arrived here, and there is still much to be done.”

“The trustees are pleased. The students revere you. You have saved this college from financial ruin. I would say you have acquitted yourself very well.”

“Perhaps, but sometimes I wonder whether I can be certain of my acceptance into heaven.”

“Oh, Robert. You need not fear. A more upright and conscientious Christian never lived.”

“Thank you, Mary. But I'm afraid I won't live much longer, and I will leave too much still undone.”

On that golden September evening I did not feel as if he could die before me, and I was selfish enough to wish that I might be spared such a loss. My life was of so little consequence compared to his, and nothing could add to his estimation in the hearts of his countrymen.

“You are tired and working too hard, that's all.”

He watched two students hurrying toward the chapel and chuckled to himself.

Relieved at his sudden change of mood, I said, “What are you thinking?”