the day’s momentous events in rapturous language, and even Lizzie, dismayed though she was by his choice of allegiance, could not fail to be impressed and moved by his solemn humility: “I accept the position assigned me by your partiality,” he had said. “I would have much preferred had the choice fallen upon an abler man. Trusting in Almighty God, an approving conscience, and the aid of my fellow citizens, I devote myself to the service of my native State, in whose behalf alone will I ever again draw my sword.”
At last Lizzie and Mary found a rare subject on which they could agree: Robert E. Lee was a brilliant choice to lead Virginia’s armed forces, his love of Virginia and his nobility of spirit were inspiring, and he would pose a formidable challenge to any Union opponent who dared face him. “I wish he were on our side,” Lizzie grumbled to John, who heartily agreed.
Things were moving too quickly, one heart-stopping event following another like boulders tumbling down a hillside. The day after General Lee was put in charge of Virginia’s military, Confederate vice-president Stephens and a convention committee led by the aged former United States president John Tyler signed a treaty proclaiming that Virginia would adopt the Confederate constitution and place all its military resources under Confederate control.
Lizzie was badly shaken when it was all said and done. She blinked back tears when the papers reported that John Minor Botts, a Unionist Whig she had long admired, had declared the signing of the treaty illegal under state law, a courageous act with so many powerful enemies arrayed against him. When his protests were summarily dismissed, Mr. Botts had withdrawn to his rural home two miles northwest of the Capitol.
Indignant, Lizzie and her mother called on him at Elba Park to express their sympathy and enduring admiration, and they were heartened to find that despite the sudden and dramatic downturn in his political fortunes, he remained stubbornly Unionist. They spent a pleasant afternoon doing their best to raise the spirits of Mr. Botts and his wife, but as they departed, Mr. Botts kindly but firmly discouraged them from calling on him again. “I am carefully observed, day and night,” he said, nodding across the street to a placid, round-faced man in a gray suit who stood watching them over the top of a newspaper.
“Was he there when we arrived?” Mother asked, watching the man from the corner of her eye.
“Yes, and he’ll be there long after you depart, and around six o’clock, a skinny fellow with a scraggly, tobacco-stained beard will replace him.” Mr. Botts’s thick, unruly brows knitted and his stern features softened with regret. “I’m grateful for your friendship, good ladies, but your kindness imperils you. You must not seem too fond of me, or of my unpopular opinions.”
Lizzie and her mother bade him a sad farewell, uncertain when they might meet again. They departed for Church Hill without a single glance for the man in the gray suit studying them from across the street.
President Jefferson Davis must have ordered troops into Virginia the moment it joined the Confederacy, for it seemed that the ink on the treaty had scarcely dried before troops from South Carolina began to arrive in great numbers, setting up encampments at strategic points throughout the city and providing entertaining distraction to its residents. The press hailed the heroes of Fort Sumter as “an invincible and heroic race of men” and “perfect gentlemen in every respect,” and indeed all who beheld them were impressed by their smart, dashing uniforms, their military ardor, and their bold, sun-browned, manly countenances. To Lizzie’s disgust, the ladies of Richmond became thoroughly smitten, and in pairs and in crowds, they met the troops at the train station, eagerly attended every evening dress parade, and visited the camps to deliver the shirts, uniforms, and tents they had sewn, as well
At last Lizzie and Mary found a rare subject on which they could agree: Robert E. Lee was a brilliant choice to lead Virginia’s armed forces, his love of Virginia and his nobility of spirit were inspiring, and he would pose a formidable challenge to any Union opponent who dared face him. “I wish he were on our side,” Lizzie grumbled to John, who heartily agreed.
Things were moving too quickly, one heart-stopping event following another like boulders tumbling down a hillside. The day after General Lee was put in charge of Virginia’s military, Confederate vice-president Stephens and a convention committee led by the aged former United States president John Tyler signed a treaty proclaiming that Virginia would adopt the Confederate constitution and place all its military resources under Confederate control.
Lizzie was badly shaken when it was all said and done. She blinked back tears when the papers reported that John Minor Botts, a Unionist Whig she had long admired, had declared the signing of the treaty illegal under state law, a courageous act with so many powerful enemies arrayed against him. When his protests were summarily dismissed, Mr. Botts had withdrawn to his rural home two miles northwest of the Capitol.
Indignant, Lizzie and her mother called on him at Elba Park to express their sympathy and enduring admiration, and they were heartened to find that despite the sudden and dramatic downturn in his political fortunes, he remained stubbornly Unionist. They spent a pleasant afternoon doing their best to raise the spirits of Mr. Botts and his wife, but as they departed, Mr. Botts kindly but firmly discouraged them from calling on him again. “I am carefully observed, day and night,” he said, nodding across the street to a placid, round-faced man in a gray suit who stood watching them over the top of a newspaper.
“Was he there when we arrived?” Mother asked, watching the man from the corner of her eye.
“Yes, and he’ll be there long after you depart, and around six o’clock, a skinny fellow with a scraggly, tobacco-stained beard will replace him.” Mr. Botts’s thick, unruly brows knitted and his stern features softened with regret. “I’m grateful for your friendship, good ladies, but your kindness imperils you. You must not seem too fond of me, or of my unpopular opinions.”
Lizzie and her mother bade him a sad farewell, uncertain when they might meet again. They departed for Church Hill without a single glance for the man in the gray suit studying them from across the street.
President Jefferson Davis must have ordered troops into Virginia the moment it joined the Confederacy, for it seemed that the ink on the treaty had scarcely dried before troops from South Carolina began to arrive in great numbers, setting up encampments at strategic points throughout the city and providing entertaining distraction to its residents. The press hailed the heroes of Fort Sumter as “an invincible and heroic race of men” and “perfect gentlemen in every respect,” and indeed all who beheld them were impressed by their smart, dashing uniforms, their military ardor, and their bold, sun-browned, manly countenances. To Lizzie’s disgust, the ladies of Richmond became thoroughly smitten, and in pairs and in crowds, they met the troops at the train station, eagerly attended every evening dress parade, and visited the camps to deliver the shirts, uniforms, and tents they had sewn, as well
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