“The
end was now drawing near, yet the General uttered no complaint. He was
meeting the last enemy as he had met Grant at Appomattox, without parade
or ostentation.
An
incident of these last days should be preserved. It was related by Mrs.
Tabb Bolling Lee. This former Petersburg belle had been in the habit of
rising at a late hour, anywhere perhaps from ten to noon. Now, on her first visit to her husband’s people, she was horrified to learn that breakfast would be ready at seven o’clock and each member of the household was expected at family prayers promptly at 6:45.
The first morning, the new arrival jumped into her clothes and hastened
down to the parlor to find that the General had finished the “lesson”
and was well into the “prayers.” As she slipped in and knelt by his
side she felt his arm about her. Without interruption the prayer went on
and was concluded.
Next
morning the new daughter did not get down to prayers at all, but did
manage to be on hand at breakfast. After the meal the General approached
and quietly remarked that no day should be lived unless it was begun
with a prayer of thankfulness and an intercession for guidance. “And
now, my child,” he softly concluded, “unless you get down to morning
prayers your old father will give you no more kisses.” The punishment
was adequate. Thereafter the new daughter was on time for prayers.
The
evening of September 28 was raw, damp and unseasonably cold. At that
unpropitious hour the vestry of Grace Church met in the unheated
building. After presiding at an extended session the General walked up
the hill to his home. Tea awaited him. Slowly moving to his pace at the
head of the table, he stood, as was his custom, to ask the blessing. His
tongue failed to function. The summons had come. From the couch, in the
recess window of the dining room, where they laid him, he did not again
move.
The
physicians treated him for venous congestion of the brain, and, at
first, held out hope for recovery. The symptoms were favorable. He was
not paralyzed and could move his arms, legs and body, though with pain.
He was entirely conscious. Sometimes he spoke. He answered questions,
but in monosyllables. His mind was clear and seemed independent of his
body. One day the doctor, seeking to cheer him, referred to Traveler.
The General must make haste and get well; Traveler was lonely and was
looking for him. The sick man shook his head and closed his eyes.
During
the final days there was no death-bed scene, no posing, no sadness of
farewell. Silence filled the sorrowing chamber. Toward the end
chilliness set in. Powerful restoratives were then administered. The
intellect was dimmed. The poise and self-restraint of a life-time
vanished. The dying man was on the battle field again, astride his
war-horse. “Strike the tent!” he exclaimed, as a great storm swept the
valley. “Tell Hill he must come up!”
At nine o’clock on the morning of October 12 the heart ceased to beat, and a great gentleman, please God, was dead.”
(Robert E. Lee, A Biography, Robert W. Winston, William Morrow & Company, 1934, pp. 411-413)
Will have to add Mr. Flood's book to my list. It has excellent reviews on Amazon and a good excerpt, too.
ReplyDeleteI read it when it first came out in the 80's and then gave one to my mother which I now have since she is gone. I looked at the ratings last night also and was surprised to see 5 full stars. I don't remember seeing that before, but I am sure there must be others similar.
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