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Updated: June 12, 2025
Love to all. "R. E. Lee." The "Markie" referred to in each of the above letters was Martha Custis Williams, a great-niece of my grandfather, Mr. Custis, who had for many years lived at Arlington with her uncle. The "little children" were her motherless nieces, whom she had brought that summer to the mountains for their health.
A moment more and she sprang to her feet and ran to the bed, crying again, "Markie! Markie!" Hester lifted her, and held her to kiss the sweet white face. It seemed to content her; she went back to her stool by the fire; and there sat staring at the curtained window with the look of one gazing into regions unknown.
I will here introduce portions of a letter of the 9th and 13th of May from her to her daughter in Lexington, telling of my father's arrival on the 12th: "'White House, May 9, 1870. "Fitzhugh took us on a delightful drive this morning, dear Mildred, to Tunstall's, where we got your letter, and Markie got nine, including yours, so we were much gratified with our excursion.
Markie has sent me a likeness of you on porcelain, from the negative taken by the celebrated Plecker, which she carried with her to Philadelphia. It is very good, but I prefer the original.... Everybody seems anxious for your return, and is surprised you can stay so long from your papa. May God bless and keep you, my dear child, is the constant prayer of "Your devoted father, R. E. Lee."
"I will, Markie." "I've seen your sword, you know, majie! and I think it is the beautifullest thing in the world. I wonder why a thing for killing should be so beautiful! Can you tell me, majie?" The major had to think in order to answer that question, but thinking he hit upon something like the truth of the thing.
Saffy, who had been seated gazing into the fire, and had no idea of what had taken place, called out in a strange voice, "Markie! Markie!" Hester turned to her at the cry, and saw her apparently following something with her eyes along the wall from the bed to the window. At the curtained window she gazed for a moment, and then her eyes fell, and she sat like one in a dream.
"What does Corney mean? I don't want to do what ain't nice. I want to be pleasant!" "Never mind, Markie dear," answered Hester; "it's only that you are not very strong not up to a game of romps as you used to be. You will be merry again one day."
"Now, Markie!" purred Pa from the stove, "that ain't puttin' the case jest as it is. Looked at from some p'ints, we are the clutchers." Pa was a mild little man with a round, innocent face, and flaxen hair rising in a curly halo about it. His china-blue eyes had all the trust and surprise of a newly awakened baby.
Hester's heart was very sore because of this new grief, but she saw some hope in it. "He is too heavy for you, Hester," said her father. "Surely as it is my fault, I ought to bear the penalty!" "It's no penalty is it, Markie?" said Hester merrily. "No, Hessie," replied Mark, almost merrily. " You don't know how strong Hessie is, papa!" "Yes, I am very strong. And you ain't heavy are you, Markie?"
As nearly as any mortal can be stationary, Pa was; but in the nature of things, passing events touched him more or less sharply in their progress. "It ain't all their doin's, Markie, now is it?" "Like as not it ain't, Pa. Sold many crullers t'-day?" "I've sold all I've made, up t' this batch, Markie, an' I've been putterin' over the heat since the mornin' meal."
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