Heath answered that he could not spare that number. He was then asked to order one thousand; to which he replied, that the business might be as well brought to a point at once—that not a single man should march from the post by _his_ order. “Then,” exclaimed Lee, “I will order them myself.” “That makes a wide difference,” rejoined Heath. “You are my senior, but I have received positive written instructions from him who is superior to us both, and I will not _myself_ break those orders.” In proof of his words, Heath produced the recent letter received from Washington, repeating his former orders that no troops should be removed from that post. Lee glanced over the letter. “The commander-in-chief is now at a distance, and does not know what is necessary here so well as I do.” He asked a sight of the return book of the division. It was brought by Major Huntington, the deputy adjutant-general. Lee ran his eye over it, and chose two regiments. “You will order them to march early to-morrow morning to join me,” said he to the major. Heath, ruffling with the pride of military law, turned to the major with an air of authority. “Issue such orders at your peril!” exclaimed he: then addressing Lee, “Sir,” said he, “if you come to this post, and mean to issue orders here which will break the positive ones I have received, I pray you do it completely yourself, and through your own deputy adjutant-general who is present, and not draw me or any of my family in as partners in the guilt.” “It is right,” said Lee; “Colonel Scammel, do you issue the order.” It was done accordingly; but Heath’s punctilious scruples were not yet satisfied. “I have one more request to make, sir,” said he to Lee, “and that is, that you will be pleased to give me a certificate that you _exercise command_ at this post, and order from it these regiments.” Lee hesitated to comply, but George Clinton, who was present, told him he could not refuse a request so reasonable. He accordingly wrote, “For the satisfaction of General Heath, and at his request, I do certify that I am commanding officer, at this present writing, in this post, and that I have, in that capacity, ordered Prescott’s and Wyllis’s regiments to march.” Heath’s military punctilio was satisfied, and he smoothed his ruffled plumes. Early the next morning the regiments moved from their cantonments ready to embark, when Lee again rode up to his door. “Upon further consideration,” said he, “I have concluded not to take the two regiments with me—you may order them to return to their former post.” “This conduct of General Lee,” adds Heath in his memoirs, “appeared not a little extraordinary, and one is almost at a loss to account for it. He had been a soldier from his youth, had a perfect knowledge of service in all its branches, but was rather obstinate in his temper, and could scarcely brook being crossed in any thing in the line of his profession.”[142]