“I don’t blame you, Joe, I don’t blame you,” said Colonel Anderson; “but, as for me, I was feeling pretty hot against General Lee those days. I didn’t see how he could make up his mind to regularly take up arms against his country, and I have an idea that I felt for awhile that he was treated no worse than he deserved; but that’s all bygones now, as well as the dear old Arlington home, that will never be a home again. You see, almost at the commencement of the war, children, Washington, with all the country immediately about, became the hospital centre, and soon a surgeon’s staff was quartered in the house yonder, in addition to the officers already there; and at the same time long canvas shelters were constructed in those woods, to which the poor sick and wounded soldiers were brought from camp and battlefield—and sadly enough many of them died here. At first all who died were taken to the Soldiers’ Home Cemetery on the other side of Washington to be buried, but the day came, as you know, when this very place was turned into a cemetery, and this was how it came about. One afternoon as President Lincoln was starting for his usual drive, which seemed to be the only way by which he could gain any relief from the burdens of that anxious time, he met General Meigs (who was Quarter-master General then of the United States Army) walking in the White House grounds. Noticing how tired and worn out the General looked, the President invited him to drive with him, and General Meigs accepted. It was the President’s purpose to drive out to Arlington, and when they reached there, the President started off for a quiet stroll; but General Meigs, whose thoughts were very busy just then as to what should be done with the poor soldiers, dying in such numbers in and about Washington, was soon deep in conference with the surgeons in charge. You see there would soon have been no more room in other cemeteries, and it was for the Quarter-master General to decide what was to be done in the matter. Now they say that General Meigs indulged in very bitter feelings toward his old friend General Lee, and that when he rejoined the President he said, ‘Lee shall never return to Arlington, no matter what the issue of the war may be,’ feeling evidently that he should be fully punished in any case for the stand he had taken. Just at that moment a sad little procession came that way. The bodies of several poor fellows, who had died in the hospital tents, were being carried on canvas stretchers to a spot from whence they could be taken to the Soldiers’ Home Cemetery.
“‘How many men are awaiting burial?’ asked General Meigs of the Sergeant in charge of the squad.
“‘Altogether a dozen, sir,’ the Sergeant answered.
“‘Bury them there,’ ordered the General, pointing to a low terrace bordering the garden.”
“But did General Meigs have any right to turn General Lee’s place into a cemetery?” asked Courage, a little warmly, feeling that an interruption was excusable under the circumstances. To be fair always, if possible, to everybody, was a working principle with Courage, and this proceeding of General Meigs’s did not seem to her quite fair.
“Yes, I think he had a perfect right, Miss Courage. In time of war the Government certainly has a right to take possession, if necessary, of property belonging to any one in open rebellion against it; and besides, five months before Arlington was converted into a cemetery, the place had been put up at public sale and bought by the Government. It was not, I believe, until 1873, however, that the Lees received any money for the estate, and that I admit does not seem fair at all. And there is another right of which I am certain, and that is that the brave fellows whose bodies rest in these graves had a right to the most beautiful spot anywhere in these United States of ours for their last resting-place. No, I think it was fitting that Arlington should become one of our national cemeteries, and I believe even Joe yonder, thinks so too.”
“Yes I do, Colonel Anderson,” Joe answered, solemnly. “Much as I love General Lee, I can’t forget what de war cos’ de country in de loss of human life, and General Lee done took a great ’sponsibility ’pon him, when he help de war on by takin’ command of de Southern troops. Yes, I’m glad dat de fine ole place has been pressed into de service of de country, in des de way it has been.”
Colonel Anderson’s question put to Joe and Joe’s reply seemed to loosen the tongues of the little company. Almost every one from Brevet up had some question or other to ask of the Colonel, and he was quite willing that they should, for they had all listened so attentively that the story had been told more quickly than either Joe or the Colonel had thought possible.
“And now, children,” said Brevet, with the air of a little grandfather, “do you wonder that I love to come and spend the day with Joe? Why, there isn’t a minute when I’m here, that he isn’t telling me something ‘bout before the war, or since the war, and when we go back to the cabin and Joe makes the hoe-cake and broils a chicken for luncheon, and I get the china down from the cupboard and set the table, with both of us talking most interesting all the time, and the smell of the cooking just filling all the cabin,—well, there isn’t ever such a happy time, is there, Joe?” Brevet had made his way to Joe’s side as he spoke, and reaching up, put one chubby little arm around his neck.
“No, bless yo’ little white heart, dere never is quite such a happy time!” and Joe drew the little fellow into his lap and held him close, as though he would love to keep him there forever.