When he reached the house, a servant appeared to take his horse, and Colley opened the door to him. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Lee,” he said, taking his hat and gauntlets. “If you’ll just come with me, suh.” Colley led him into the drawing room.
George Washington Parke Custis and his wife Mary, who was called “Molly,” greeted him warmly, and soon Robert was installed in a comfortable armchair, sipping a cherry ice.
As with all the rooms he had seen in Arlington House, he thought the parlor was elegantly appointed, the furnishings lavish, but it was still a comfortable room. The two tall windows had white linen shades, which were opened to the east. The fireplace had a brass fire screen fashioned as a peacock, with brass andirons in a holder with the same design. A large rectangular looking glass was over the George III chimney piece. A Dutch oak bookcase, a gold velvet camelback sofa with matching armchairs, and two William IV rosewood carved round tables made a comfortable corner for visiting.
“Mary will be down soon, Robert,” Molly said. She was a pretty woman, with a blue-eyed-blond English look. “George bought enough sweet cherries for the entire plantation, and Mary took them around to everyone. She returned a bit later than she intended, I’m sure. I apologize for her tardiness.”
“Please, Mrs. Custis, there’s no need for apologies,” Robert said, his dark eyes twinkling. “To know Miss Custis is to wait for Miss Custis. I would be afraid she was unwell if she were on time.”
“’S truth.” George Custis harrumphed. Short, balding, tending to plumpness, and generally of an amiable temperament, he still was impatient at times. “That girl will be late, no matter what I or her mother do or say. So, Robert, you cut quite a dashing figure in your shiny new uniform. Have you received any orders yet?”
“Yes, sir, I’m ordered to the Savannah River in Georgia, to Cockspur Island,” he answered eagerly. “The US Army has decided to construct a fort there.”
“Georgia?” Mr. Custis repeated darkly, as if he had never heard the word. “Cockspur Island? Sounds dreary and troublesome. I don’t believe we have family in Savannah, do we, Molly?”
“The Edward Carter family and the James Randolph family live in Atlanta,” she said thoughtfully. “But no, I don’t believe we are connected to Savannah.”
George Custis was George Washington’s step-grandson and a descendant of Baron Baltimore. The Parke and the Custis families were among the original colonists of Virginia. Mary Custis’s maiden name was Mary Lee Fitzhugh. She was Robert’s mother’s cousin. The Parkes, the Custises, the Lees, and the Fitzhughs were all Founding Families, the aristocracy of America. George Custis in particular was so proud of his step-grandfather that he had collected much of George Washington’s possessions and displayed them proudly at Arlington. Northern Virginia was his birthright, Arlington was his home, and he very rarely thought about any such obscure hinterlands as Savannah, Georgia.
Mary came in, tranquil and with slow grace in spite of the fact that she had kept Robert waiting, a breach of etiquette that she often committed with no apparent regret. Robert rose as she entered wearing a white dress patterned with small pink roses and a green sash encircling her small waist above the bell-shaped crinoline. Her cheeks were delicately flushed, her eyes were glowing, and the warmth in her smile of greeting was unmistakable. She held out both her hands, and he took them and bowed. “Mr. Lee! I’m so happy you called. It’s good to see you again. How long will you be here this time? Where are you staying?”
Settling back in his chair, Lee replied, “I was just telling your mother and father that I’m assigned to Savannah, Georgia, but I don’t have to report until the middle of November. I’m staying at Eastern View.” This property was owned by one of his Carter cousins and was just outside of Alexandria, Virginia.
“Oh, good. Then you can call every day,” Mary said with a mischievous glance at her father.
George Custis said, “Don’t be foolish, Mary. Lieutenant Lee doesn’t have time to call here every day and sit twiddling his thumbs waiting for you.”
“Perhaps he does,” Mary said. “Perhaps we should ask him.” She turned to him, eyes sparkling. “Mr. Lee? How is your schedule these days?”
“I’ve set aside plenty of time for thumb-twiddling,” he replied. “I was sure to include it on my calendar, Miss Custis.”
Molly Custis looked amused, while her husband made a slight grimace.
Robert knew Mr. Custis liked him and thought him a fine-looking man with an impeccable manner and noble bearing. But while the Lees were one of the most prominent families in Virginia, they were also poor, and Robert knew it was difficult for George Washington Parke Custis to envision the heiress of Arlington as living on an army lieutentant’s pay. For years now the bond between Robert and Mary had grown from childhood friendship to one of mutual affection and esteem. Now that both were in their twenties, Robert knew the master of Arlington understood very well where his daughter’s wishes lay, but Robert was not sure her father could be glad for her.
They talked for a while about small things: family, mutual acquaintances, and the army. As it grew later in the afternoon, Molly suggested, “George, I’d very much like to sit out on the portico and watch the sun set. Mary, Lieutentant Lee, perhaps you would care to join me?”
Mr. Custis decided to join them, too, and as the ladies collected their fans and instructed the servants to bring tea and cakes, he began to tell Robert about a new addition he had just acquired for the conservatory, a rare orchid.
As the four went out onto the veranda, Mary took Robert’s arm, and the moment there was a lull in her father’s raptures, she said, “Yes, Father, the orchid is interesting, and perhaps after we watch the sun set you might show it to Mr. Lee. But I noticed this morning that the last roses have bloomed, and I know he would like to see them.”
“Yes, sir,” Lee said instantly to Mr. Custis. “Perhaps you would give Miss Custis permission to show me your roses? Arlington House is, after all, quite famous for the grounds and the gardens. I haven’t toured the rose garden since last spring.”
“Of course, of course,” he said, smiling happily after Robert mentioned Arlington. “Mary, hurry on, so Lieutenant Lee can get the full benefit of the last light.”
They walked down the steps and around to the north side of the house, where the large rose garden was situated. As they got out of the view of the veranda, without any signal passing between them, Mary clasped Robert’s arm tighter and drew closer to him.
Robert slowed his pace so they walked very slowly down the rows of rosebushes. Though many of the bushes were already bare of flowers, some of them still had lush blooms on them. The garden’s sweet scent enveloped them.
“You must miss your mother terribly, Robert,” she said in a low voice of sympathy. “Please tell me, how are you coping?”
The last time she had seen him was at his mother’s funeral, about a month and a half previously. Robert had nursed his mother through years of debilitating illness. “I do miss her very much,” he said. “But she was a godly woman, and she is with her heavenly Father, well and whole and joyful. I couldn’t wish her back.” Brightening, he pointed to a red rose in full bloom, almost as big as a dinner dish. “That indeed is a glorious rose, Mary. Now I won’t worry too much that I was exaggerating about Arlington’s rose garden just so we might have a few moments alone.”
“You? Exaggerate or prevaricate? Nonsense! There is not a shred of vanity or guile in you,” she said, squeezing his arm. “And while I do understand that your code of honor as a gentleman would never permit you to even think of any dishonesty, I don’t understand how you’ve kept from getting vain. You’re perfectly lovely, Robert.”
He flushed. “Men aren’t lovely, Mary. I can’t imagine why you would say such a thing about me. It’s ridiculous.”
“I think not. My cousin, Katherine Randolph, told me that she heard that at West Point they called you the ‘Marble Model.’ Perhaps I should call you that instead of lovely.”<
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His face must have reflected a curious mixture of confusion, vexation, and embarrassment, as Mary laughed. “Never mind, Robert. I don’t mean to embarrass you. If I did, I would have said that in front of my parents.”
“Yes, I know, and I’m very grateful to you for sparing me that at least,” he said with exasperation. Then, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head, he said, “I’ve heard gossip about you, too, Miss Custis. I heard that you’ve sent away several beaus this summer, among them congressman Sam Houston. And now the word is that Mr. Lynville Fitzhugh is actively courting you.”
“Pah, he doesn’t do anything actively,” she said dismissively. “I understand that ever since Beau Brummel became an arbiter elegantiarum, languor of manner and contrived boredom are all the fashion on the Continent these days. I couldn’t conceive of marrying such a silly man. Besides, he has a cast eye. And he’s my cousin.”
“Everyone in northern Virginia is your cousin, Mary,” Robert said. “I’m your cousin.”
“That’s completely different,” she said stoutly.
“How? Why?”
“Because you have the elegant and polished deportment of a gentleman, you are intelligent and accomplished and cultured, you are energetic and hardworking, and you don’t have a cast eye,” she finished triumphantly.
“I see,” he said lightly. “I had no idea I was such a paragon. But I am beginning to see that it could definitely be to my advantage.”
“To me you’ve always had many advantages over other men I’ve known, Robert,” she said.
He stopped, turned, and took both of her hands. His dark, intense eyes searching her face, he said quietly, “And to me you’ve always been the most intriguing, the most charming, the most gracious, and the most captivating woman I’ve ever known.”
“Do you mean that?” she asked breathlessly.
“Every word,” he said firmly, “and every sentiment. But you do understand, don’t you, Mary, the position I’m in right now? I only graduated West Point in June. Now, thanks to the mercy and goodness of the Lord, my mother is at rest. I’m in the army, and I haven’t even performed my first duty yet. I feel that I have a new life, and it is just beginning, just now.”
“I understand, Robert,” she said. “I understand everything. I’ll be here, you know. When you’ve learned your new life, I’ll be right here.”
He bent to kiss her then for the first time, a mere brush of his lips against hers. When he raised his head, they exchanged brief smiles. Though it was unsaid by either of them, that kiss was a promise that they would keep.
CHAPTER TWO
Lieutenant Jack Mackay adjusted his wide-brimmed slouch hat so as to channel the heavy cold rain away from his neck. Then he continued the conversation. “But Robert, I really think my sister has become extremely attached to you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed!”
Lieutenant Robert E. Lee looked up quickly in alarm. “Jack, you don’t think I’ve been misleading Miss Eliza, do you?”
“Of course not,” he said dismissively. “And neither does she. But she does find your attentions very welcome. I can tell.”
“I enjoy her company very much,” Lee said, “and also Miss Catherine’s. Both of your sisters are amiable and pleasant ladies.” He resumed walking slowly along the earthen embankment, occasionally stopping to plunge a sharp stick into the side.
In the previous month, November, a gale had destroyed part of this earthen wall, and the site for the fort had flooded. Due to illness and then rambling bureaucratic shuffling in Washington, the major commanding the site was not there. It had been up to Lieutenant Lee to supervise the repair of the breach and to strengthen the entire protective mud wall. He inspected it several times a day when it was raining, even on a dismal and cold day such as this.
“ ‘Amiable and pleasant,’ ” his friend repeated. “That could be said of every lady of our acquaintance. Robert, I don’t like to intrude, but may I ask you a question of a personal nature? Rude of me, I know, but I hope that you’ll excuse me because of our long friendship.”
Lee and Jack Mackay had been at West Point together, and they had been at Cockspur Island now for over a year. Somewhat to Mackay’s surprise, Lee grinned at him. “You’re going to ask me about why I’ve never courted anyone.”
“Well, yes. Certainly you’ve had ample opportunity. The ladies all adore you. Barely notice I’m in the room when you’re there,” he added, grumbling.
“Nonsense,” Lee said crisply. “Anyway, the answer to your admittedly rude, though forgivable question is that I have been courting a lady for a long time now.”
Mackay nodded. “Miss Custis, isn’t it? I know that every summer you spend most of your time up around Arlington House. And I know that you write her often.”
“It is Miss Custis,” Lee admitted readily. “It’s always been Miss Custis.”
The new commanding engineer reported to Cockspur Island just after Christmas. By spring, he had made his best evaluation: the plan for the fort would not do, and it must be redesigned. In April, Second Lieutenant Robert E. Lee was reassigned to Fort Monroe in Hampton, Virginia. Although it was almost one hundred eighty miles to the gracious home on the hills above Alexandria, it was still much closer than Savannah, Georgia.
Lieutenant Lee reported to his new post on May 7, 1831. Now with certainty in his course, he secured a leave of absence and made his way again up that long slope to Arlington House. It was a gorgeous day, balmy with occasional cool breezes that carried the sweetest scent of all, jasmine. The cherry trees and dogwoods in the park were blooming, their virginal white flowers bright against the cool green of new leaves. Northern Virginia was in her best dress, that of a sunny spring.
He was greeted happily by the family, at least by Mary Custis and Mrs. Custis. George Custis welcomed him but was perhaps a touch less effusive than his wife and daughter.
Lee, of course, noticed this, but it made no difference to him. He knew Mary Custis as well as any person on earth can truly know another, and her thoughts and desires were the only thing that mattered to him.
They sat on the veranda for a while sipping lemonade and talking mostly about Arlington, for Mr. Custis invariably brought the conversation around to his much-beloved home. As he and Lee talked, Mr. Custis soon warmed up to him, as he always did. Robert E. Lee was cordial and pleasant, and he had a quick and curious mind. He never feigned interest in any of Mr. Custis’s topics, whether it was George Washington or some scheme Mr. Custis had for an agricultural enterprise or news of the economy in England. Lee was truly interested in all of these things and many more.
Robert was invited to dinner, and just after sunset, they all repaired to the dining room. As it was still cool in the evenings, a fire had been lit, but in Robert’s opinion it did little to make the formal room more inviting. It was a magnificent room, grandly furnished. A very long Charles X mahogany table was centered in the room, covered with the finest French damask cloth. Intricately carved mahogany Chippendale chairs lined the walls, except for the four set at the table. An enormous George II serpentine-front sideboard was on one wall, the fireplace on the other.
A slave, dressed in a dark suit with a tailed coat, white vest, and spotless white gloves, stood behind each chair. Robert saw with an inward sigh that he was stranded at one end of the long expanse of the table. Mr. Custis said grace, and the servants began to prepare each dish for the diners from the sideboard.
Before her father could monopolize the conversation again, Mary asked, “Mr. Lee, please tell us about your new position. I’ve never been to Hampton Roads, though I’ve heard it’s a most pleasant holiday spot.”
“Hampton Roads may be, but I’m afraid Fort Monroe isn’t quite as congenial,” Robert said. “At least there is actually a fort, which is more than can be said for Cockspur Island.”
“And what is to be your work there, Lieutenant Lee?” Molly asked.
“Construction on the fort itself is pretty well complete. It
houses a garrison, and in fact, they have just begun artillery training there. But the outerworks still aren’t finished, and it’s been decided to build an adjacent fort just offshore, on a rock bank sunk in deep water. I’m rather excited about the project,” he said, warming to the subject. “I do hope I’m assigned to work on the new fort, and not just finishing the outerworks on Monroe.”
“Good heavens, Mr. Lee, you’ve practically spent the last two years chin-deep in that swamp in Georgia,” Mary said spiritedly. “To this day I cannot imagine how you kept from dying, either from some noxious swamp fever or from catching a deathly chill in the winters.”
“I must have a strong constitution,” he said. “Do you know, I’ve never been ill in my life, except for the usual childhood things.”
“Yes, I know,” Mary said so assuredly that her father gave her a strange look. “But most mortal men do get ill at one time or another in such an environment. I’m glad that you’ll be better situated at Fort Monroe. So since it sounds already well established, I assume that they have adequate housing there? You know, officer’s quarters—and married officer’s houses?”
George Custis choked slightly on a bite of roasted pork, Molly Custis smiled knowingly, and Mary stared at Robert, her eyes sparkling, her expression challenging.
Robert E. Lee was definitely a man to squarely meet a challenge. “Oh yes, Miss Custis. Naturally I was most interested in the housing available. I saw several homes for officers. In fact, I am very partial to one of them. It is small, but it could be made into a comfortable home, I think, with the right touch.”
“A woman’s touch, I’m sure you mean,” Mary added mischievously.
“Of course. Could any house be called a home without the right woman’s touch?” Robert said with aplomb.
At this Mr. Custis felt it was important to intervene, so the rest of the dinner conversation revolved around Arlington and tidbits of family news.
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