passionate display of affection on the part of his soldiers, he departed towards the city. His veterans saw him for the last time on his faithful Traveller, who, without a scratch, had passed through all the dangers of this campaign. His escort was composed of a detachment of Federal cavalry, preceded by an ensign. Twenty-five Confederate officers accompanied him. Several waggons filled with baggage and personal effects followed, among other things the little open carriage of which Lee had made use over and over again during the war, when, through accident or sickness, he could not ride on horseback. It was generally in this he used to lay aside choice provisions for the wounded.

All along the road Lee appeared much more concerned about the sad state to which the unhappy inhabitants were reduced, than about his own personal situation. He was exceedingly affected at the delicate care with which these poor folk received him, preparing for him warm repasts, and evincing towards him all the tokens of loving respect. Notwithstanding hospitable offers made to him, he continued to sleep on the bare ground, wishing in nothing to be better treated than his companions on the road. Even at his brother's house he passed the night in his little carriage. On approaching Richmond he went in front of his escort, followed only by a few officers, and crossed the James on pontoons, the ordinary bridge having been burnt when the Confederates evacuated the town. The appearance of Richmond was desolate. Much of the lower part of the city had been burnt on the 3rd of April, and all around nothing was seen but blackened ruins.

A few persons having recognised the general, the report of his arrival rapidly spread; immediately the inhabitants crowded round him, welcoming him with acclamations, waving their hats and handkerchiefs. Desirous to avoid all public manifestations, the illustrious prisoner, bowing to his numerous admirers, escaped from this impromptu ovation as soon as he could, and presently reached the house where his family waited for him. The Federal

It

soldiers, grouped round the door, gave him a militaty salute. was with great difficulty he dismounted, such was the crowd, everybody wishing to shake his hand, hear his voice, or touch his person some actually embraced the faithful Traveller that had borne him safe and sound through so many dangers. Hastening to cross the threshold of his house, which the impassioned admiration of his fellow-citizens had the good taste to respect, he kept there constantly within doors, going out only at night, in order to avoid demonstrations as melancholy as useless, and which besides might attract the anger of the Federal authorities towards the people of Richmond, who had already had a sad experience. Nevertheless, his door continued to be besieged by the curious, and by Confederate soldiers returning to their firesides, who had a wish to see their general once more.

CHAPTER XVII.

LEE'S LAST YEARS AT LEXINGTON. HIS DEATH, OCTOBER 12, 1870. In the latter years of Lee's life, the greatness and sweetness of his character, two qualities rarely combined, contributed to form an extraordinary and charming whole. The misfortune and humiliation of defeat never succeeded in drawing from him a single word of anger or impatience when speaking of the North. When, in his presence, sentiments of hatred were heard, he unhesitatingly condemned them, thus setting an example of moderation and charity which, let us hope, found many imitators. He wished, by the manner in which he bore his private misfortunes, to reconcile the Southern populations to the harshness of their lot. If he learnt of young people contemplating emigration from their country to settle with the foreigner, he reminded them that the true way of displaying their love for the South was to remain there, and assist in healing her bleeding wounds. The constant aim proposed to himself was to calm and heal ulcerated hearts. It was on the rising generation that he especially founded his hopes; it was to this he devoted the remainder of his life, refusing all the generous offers and splendid situations proposed to him, as well in various cities of the United States as in England and Ireland. "I am deeply grateful," said he, "but I cannot consent to desert my native State in the hour of her adversity. I must abide her fortunes and share her fate."

Some months after the end of the war, General Lee accepted

the presidency of the State College of Virginia at Lexington. This college-and, for that matter, all the district-found great difficulty in recovering from its disasters. The directors of Washington College (such was its name) thought of offering the presidency to General Lee, hoping thus to attract a greater number of students to it, and likewise to give the general a substantial testimony of their own admiration and of the affection borne to him by the State.

The war had engulfed all Lee's fortune, and it was absolutely necessary, since he refused all offers of aid, that he should find some occupation to earn his living at.

At first he had some scruples about accepting, as is proved by a fine letter he wrote the directors in August, 1865. He did not consider himself in a position to instruct youth, or to do anything except exercise a general surveillance and discipline. But the most serious objection in his opinion was, that, being excluded from the amnesty of the preceding 29th of May, the choice of him to superintend might cause the feelings of hostility of which he was the object to be reflected on the college.

"It is particularly incumbent on those charged with the instruction of the young," said he, "to set them an example of submission to authority. I could not consent to be the cause of animadversion upon the college." He finished by declaring that he was at the disposal of the directors if his scruples appeared to them unfounded or exaggerated.

On the 1st of October he entered on his duties. His new post was not a sinecure; it was not there he could find the repose of which his mind and body stood in so much need. The war had ruined the college. With library pillaged, building destroyed, all its professors dispersed, its allotted funds reduced to nothing; everything had to be restored. Lee devoted himself heart and soul to this new task. The celebrity of his name attracted sympathy from all parts of the world, and students flowed in in great numbers, so that in 1870 there were upwards of 500.

In spite of the most seductive offers made to him (for instance, that of 250,000 francs a-year from a manufacturing company at New York, fixed salary, if he would become the chairman), his invariable answer was: "My duties at the college take up all my time, and I cannot consent to receive a salary for which I should do nothing." At Washington College he had 25,000 francs and house-rent.

He had found a mission, that of retrieving the fortunes of the college, giving to the young people about him lessons in religion, morality, and obedience, and, through the medium of his youthful pupils, effecting a reaction against the demoralizing tendencies of the age. This mission he nobly fulfilled. He became adored by all these young men, and ended by insensibly giving to all the establishment the impress of his own personal character.

It was very rare that he officially addressed the students. On such occasions appeared what they called "one of his orders of the day," and the appeal of their much loved president was always listened to. We offer here a specimen :

"Washington College, November 26th, 1866.

"The Faculty desire to call the attention of the students to the disturbances which occurred in the streets of Lexington on the nights of Friday and Saturday last. They believe that none can contemplate them with pleasure, or can find any reasonable grounds for their justification. These acts are said to have been committed by students of the college, with the apparent object of disturbing the peace and quiet of a town whose inhabitants have opened their doors for their reception and accommodation, and who are always ready to administer to their comfort and pleasure.

"It requires but little consideration to see the error of such conduct, which could only have proceeded from thoughtlessness and a want of reflection. The Faculty, therefore, appeal to the honour and self-respect of the students to prevent any similar occurrence, trusting that their sense of what is due to themselves,