Becoming Miss Lee

Chapter 2 - The Virginians

It had been several months since I had become a member of the Lee family and I had begun to discover that I had a particular fondness for books at my three month mark. Mister Lee would sneak me out of the dreadful mind-numbing sewing sessions with Missus Lee and hide me in his library behind his desk and let me read. He let me read about everything I wanted to read about: faraway exotic places, law, Europe, British History, and everything in between. Whatever questions that I had, he would be happy to answer. Uncle Francis would come up to the library and sit and chat with Mister Lee while I sat under the desk with my legs pulled up to my chest with my head in a book. He would poke his head beneath the table and raise an eyebrow, and I would smile at him and give a little wave. He never said a word to Missus Lee and my ever growing expanse of knowledge made me a valuable conversational asset when the other women would begin their gossip and drive the men to the front porch. I joined them all of the time, for one can only take so much gossip of what the woman down the street had said about the woman across town. They would include me in their talks of politics and the situation with Britain, with the relations ever growing worse between our two lands. As a result, I knew what was happening all of the time. A well informed citizen is a useful citizen.

Truth be told, my first moths there did not consist of me settling in, but rather me aiming to impress. I dressed my best every day, I learned the etiquette, and I even followed Uncle Francis' advice and began picking up the accent and, by my fourth month with the Lees, I could drawl with the best of them. Thomas often joked that I should invest in a career with the theater because I was such a good actress. See, we entertained regularly at our house in Westmoreland County, and these guests were both social and political in nature. I did not like every single one, but as a hostess you are never supposed to show that side of discontent or revulsion. While my younger siblings had their time disguising it, I endeavored to act as if each and every one of my guests was the king or queen of England, even if their breath smelled of dead cattle or their palms were greasy. As the hostess, or the hostess' daughter, as the case may be, you must always be polite. Hospitality is a virtue in the South.

That is not to make it sound as if all of my encounters with Virginians within my first few months made them seem as if they were vile horrible creatures. Anything could be farther from the truth. Most of our guests were pleasant Virginians who were enjoyable to be around. Perhaps my favorite was a wonderful young woman by the name of Martha Wayles Skelton. I had bumped into her, quite literally, when I had taken a walk one day, and I had never encountered such a pleasant person outside of my small world in the Lee house. After I had assisted her in fixing her bag, which my clumsiness had made her drop, we walked along and talked for a long time. I couldn't help but be happy that I had made friends with such a radiant woman after only being in Virginia for a few months. She had been visiting some friends in the area when we first met and she promised to write me after we had met again by chance before she left. It was before a large party that Mister Lee decided to hold that I was reading one of her letters while one of the servants assisted in getting me dressed.

Dearest Bea,

I cannot even begin to express the happiness your letters bring me in these dark times. My husband has passed away and I do feel terribly alone at times. I live with the comforting fact that I have you to write to and many supportive friends. I hope all is well with you. I take pleasure in knowing that you have been so well and that you are so concerned about me. You do not have to be, by any means. I will be perfectly fine. I hope that you have adjusted to life with the Lees. They are a reputable family and there is much there for you. Also, do tell me how your correspondence with this Nathan of yours is coming along. Nothing is more romantic than letters from the heart. You speak of him so fondly that I cannot help but smile at your words. Oh, how I wish we lived just a little closer! You are like my little sister, Bea, and I trust my heart's deepest secrets with you. On a closing note: there is a certain Mister Thomas Jefferson who I do believe may call on your family from time to time. Do be gentle with him, my scrutinizing little Bea. You have quite the critical eye of men and Mister J may come across as a little too quiet or cold at first, but I can assure you that you will quickly come to love him all the same. He is very much like you. He lets his pen do all of his talking. Also, I thought you might like to know: he plays the violin.