what their progress is in the river. I hope you are all well, and as
happy as you can be in these perilous times to our country. They look
dark at present, and it is plain we have not suffered enough, laboured
enough, repented enough, to deserve success. But they will brighten
after awhile, and I trust that a merciful God will arouse us to a sense
of our danger, bless our honest efforts, and drive back our enemies
to their homes. Our people have not been earnest enough, have thought
too much of themselves and their ease, and instead of turning out
to a man, have been content to nurse themselves and their dimes, and
leave the protection of themselves and families to others. To satisfy
their consciences, they have been clamorous in criticising what others
have done, and endeavoured to prove that they ought to do nothing.
This is not the way to accomplish our independence. I have been doing
all I can with our small means and slow workmen to defend the cities
and coast here. Against ordinary numbers we are pretty strong, but
against the hosts our enemies seem able to bring everywhere there is
no calculating. But if our men will stand to their work, we shall
give them trouble and damage them yet. They have worked their way
across the marshes, with their dredges, under cover of their gunboats,
to the Savannah River, about Fort Pulaski. I presume they will
endeavour to reduce the fort and thus open a way for their vessels up
the river. But we have an interior line they must force before reaching
the city. It is on this line we are working, slowly to my anxious
mind, but as fast as I can drive them.... Good-bye, my dear child.
May God bless you and our poor country.

"Your devoted father,

"R. E. Lee."