in sight of the enemy on the Rapidan, Gen. Lee was standing near his lines, conversing with two of his officers, one of whom was known to be not only a hard fighter and a hard swearer, but a cordial hater of the Yankees. After a silence of some moments, the latter officer, looking at the Yankees with a dark scowl on his face, exclaimed most emphatically, "I wish they were all dead." Gen. Lee, with the grace and manner peculiar to himself, replied, "How can you say so, General! Now I wish they were all at home, attending to their own business, and leaving us to do the same." He then moved off, when the first speaker waiting until he was out of earshot, turned to his companion, and in the most earnest tone said, "I would not say so before Gen. Lee, but I wish they were all dead and in hell!" When this "amendment” to the wish was afterwards repeated to Gen. Lee, in spite of hist goodness and customary reproof of profanity, he could not refrain from laughing heartily at the speech, which was so characteristic of one of his favourite officers. The greatest suffering of Confederate troops was in the article. of food; and on this subject Gen. Lee exhibited especial care, and exhausted every possible appeal to the proper authorities. He was constantly writing to Richmond of the deficiency of food in his army; he experienced here the greatest difficulty of his campaigns; and he appears never to have convinced the dull brain of the gov ernment, of the vital importance of a concern which lacerated his sensibilities, weighed down his energies, depleted the army by "absenteeism," and contributed largely to the final catastrophe of his arms. In the first winter of his campaign in Northern Vir ginia, he recommended that an appeal should be made to the people to bring food to the army, to feed their sons and brothers. But the plan was overruled by Commissary Northrop, who put on it a curt and impertinent indorsement, that as he had no acquaintance with that means of maintaining an army (the patriotic contributions of the people), he could not recommend the adoption of Gen. Lee's suggestion. In the spring of 1863, Gen. Lee appears to have been more deeply concerned in this matter, and wrote a remarkable letter to the government at Richmond. He stated that his men had each, daily, but a quarter-pound of meat, and sixteen ounces of flour; they had, besides, one pound of rice to every ten men, two or three times a week; and he plainly declared that such rations might sustain life in his men, but if they were expected to keep the field, they must have more generous food. But this was only the beginning of trials and sufferings which culminated in later periods of the war, when, for days, Lee's army was entirely without meat, and the supply of bread, even, was in danger. That these deficiences were the result of culpable neglect in Richmond, appears to have been the persistent opinion of Gen. Lee, as there is a letter from him as late as December, 1864, declaring his judgment that, even then, there were supplies enough in the country, if the proper means were used to procure them. There is no more noble and touching appeal to his army than that made by Gen. Lee in the bitter winter that preceded the mighty campaign of 1864 in Virginia, when the destitute and halfstarved troops found themselves in almost the last extremity of suffering. In this dark period, he issued the following proclamation, expressive of proud congratulation and noble encouragement: HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA, The Commanding General considers it due to the army to state that the temporary reduction of rations has been caused by circumstances beyond the control of those charged with its support. Its welfare and comfort are the objects of his constant and earnest solicitude, and no effort has been spared to provide for its wants. It is hoped that the exertions now being made will render the necessity but of short duration; but the history of the army has shown that the country can require no sacrifice too great for its patriotic devotion. Soldiers! you tread, with no unequal steps, the road by which your fathers marched through suffering, privation, and blood, to independence. Continue to emulate in the future, as you have in the past, their valour in arms, their patient endurance of hardships, their high resolve to be free; which no trial could shake, no bribe seduce, no danger appall; and be assured that the just God who crowned their efforts with success, will, in His own good time, send down His blessings upon yours. R. E. LEE, General. In the article of food, as in other things, Gen. Lee appears to have uniformly shared the distress of his men, and to have claimed for headquarters no exemption from the common lot of the army. His scanty meals were the occasions of some thoughtless jokes, and many comic anecdotes. In his tent, meat was eaten but twice week. His ordinary dinner consisted of a head of cabbage, boiled in salt water, and a pone of corn bread. The story is jocosely told that on one occasion, a number of gentlemen having appointed to dine with him, he had ordered his servant to provide a repast of cabbage and middling. A very small bit of middling garnished the dish; so small that the polite guests all declined middling, and it remained on the dish when they rose from the table. Next day, the General, remembering the untouched meat, ordered his servant to bring "that middling.' that middling." The man hesitated, scratched his head, and finally said: "De fac is, mass'r Robert, dat ar middlin' was borrid middlin,' and I done giv it back to de man whar I got it from." Gen. Lee never allowed familiarity; but he was of that dignity that rather disarmed than repulsed it. Yet to those immediately around him he often spoke in a simple, playful speech, that was quite charming. An aide relates of him, that just before the battle of Chancellorsville, when the army was alert for action, he entered Gen. Lee's tent with a hurried message that the enemy was supposed to be crossing the river about Fredericksburg. Gen. Lee replied: "Well, I heard firing, and I was beginning to think it was time some of you lazy young fellows were coming to tell me what it was all about. Say to Gen. Jackson that he knows just as well what to do with the enemy as I do." When Jackson was prostrated with his wound that unexpectedly proved mortal, Gen. Lee sent him a number of kindly messages in his peculiarly simple and affectionate words. "Give him," he said in his half-playful and tender manner, "my affectionate regards, and tell him to make haste and get well, and come back to me as soon as he can. He has lost his left arm, but I have lost my right arm." At another time, hearing of the threatening change in the condition of the sufferer, he said with great feeling: "Surely Gen. Jackson must recover. God will not take him from us, now that we need him so much. Surely he will be spared to us, in answer to the many prayers which are offered for him." He afterwards added: 'When you return, I trust you will find him better. When a 66 suitable occasion offers, give him my love, and tell him that I wrestled in prayer for him last night, as I never prayed, I believe, for myself." We have already referred to Gen. Lee's noble and collected. behaviour on the field of Gettysburg. An English colonel, who observed him closely on that momentous occasion, has made such a characteristic relation, that every one will recognize in it the manner and words of Gen. Lee, especially his simple and unaffected way of talking to his men. This writer says: "I joined Gen. Lee, who had, in the meanwhile, come to the front on becoming aware of the disaster. Gen. Lee was perfectly sublime. He was engaged in rallying and encouraging the broken troops, and was riding about, a little in front of the wood, quite alone-the whole of his staff being engaged in a similar manner further to the rear. His face, which is always placid and cheerful, did not show signs of the slightest disappointment, care, or annoyance, and he was addressing to every soldier he met a few words of encouragement, such as, All this will come right in the end; we'll talk it over afterwards; but, in the meantime, all good men must rally. We want all good and true men just now,' etc. He spoke to all the wounded men that passed him, and the slightly wounded he exhorted to bind up their hurts and take up a musket' in this emergency. Very few failed to answer his appeal, and I saw many badly wounded men take off their hats and cheer him. "There was a man lying flat on his face, in a small ditch, groaning dismally; Gen. Lee's attention was drawn to him, and he at once appealed to the man's patriotism to arouse himself, but finding such to be of no avail, he had him ignominiously set on his legs, by some neighbouring gunners. "Gen. Wilcox now came up to him, and, in very depressed tones of annoyance and vexation, explained the state of his brigade. But Gen. Lee immediately shook hands with him, and said, in a cheerful manner, 'Never mind, General. All this has been my fault. It is I that have lost this fight, and you must help me out of it the best way you can.' In this mannner did Gen. Lee, wholly ignoring self and position, encourage and reanimate his somewhat dispirited troops, and magnanimously take upon his own shoulders the whole weight of the repulse. It was impossible to look at him, or to listen to him, without feeling the strongest admiration, and I never saw any man fail him, except the man in the ditch." The same writer (Col. Fremantle) has made the following description of the person and habits of the great and beloved Confederate commander: "Gen. Lee is, almost without exception, the handsomest man of his age I ever saw. He is tall, broadshouldered, very well made, well set up-a thorough soldier in appearance—and his manners are most courteous, and full of dignity. He is a perfect gentleman in every respect. I imagine no man has so few enemies, or is so universally esteemed. Throughout the South all agree in pronouncing him as near perfection as a man can be. He has none of the small vices, such as smoking, drinking, chewing, or swearing; and his bitterest enemy never accused him of any of the greater ones. He generally wears a well-worn, long, gray jacket, a high, black felt hat, and blue trowsers, tucked into his Wellington boots. I never saw him carry arms; and the only marks of his military rank are the three stars on his collar. He rides a handsome horse, which is extremely well groomed. He himself is very neat in his dress and person; and in the most arduous marches he always looks smart and clean." |