My last recollections of General Lee, when making a visit of several weeks at his house, the year before his death—although not coming properly under the head of “plantation reminiscences”—may not be inappropriate here.
It has been said that a man is never a “hero to his valet;” but this could not have been said of General Lee, for those most intimately connected with him could not fail to see continually in his bearing and character something above the ordinary level, something of the hero.
At the time of my visit the commencement exercises of the College, of which he was President, were going on. His duties were necessarily onerous. Sitting up late at night with the board of visitors, and attending to every detail with his conscientious particularity, there was little time for him to rest. Yet every morning of that busy week he was ready, with his prayer-book under his arm, when the church bell called its members to sun-rise service.
It is pleasant to recall all he said at the breakfast, dinner and tea table, where in his hospitality he always insisted upon bringing all who chanced to be at his house at those hours—on business or on social call.[8]
This habit kept his table filled with guests, who received from him elegant courtesy.
Only once did I hear him speak regretfully of the past. It was one night when sitting by him on the porch in the moonlight, he said to me, his thoughts turning to his early childhood:
“It was not my mother’s wish that I should receive a military education, and I ought to have taken her advice, for,” he said very sadly, “my education did not fit me for this civil life.”
In this no one could agree with him, for it seemed to all that he adorned and satisfactorily filled every position in life, civil or military.
There was something in his manner which naturally pleased every one without his making an effort; at the same time a dignity and reserve which commanded respect and precluded anything like undue familiarity. All desirable qualities seemed united in him to render him popular.
It was wonderful to observe—in the evenings when his parlors were overflowing with people young and old, from every conceivable place—how by a word, a smile, a shake of the hand he managed to give all pleasure and satisfaction, each going away charmed with him.