General Robert E. Lee’s Noble Character Shown Brightly in War and Peace

Written by Elbert L. Watson

Jan 30, 2007 at 02:31 AM

In March of 1870 an old soldier/warrior of the War Between the States prepared to head south from Lexington, Virginia, down to Florida, hoping to gain a little rest for his pain-wracked body and mind and to meet old friends. This venerable veteran of historic battles like Seven Days, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, The Wilderness, and Cold Harbor, only reluctantly had decided to make the trip. Friends and family hoped that this change of pace and climate would restore some of his failing health. The prospects were slim. This great warrior was none other than Robert Edward Lee, whose 200th birthday anniversary on January 19, 2007, was recently observed throughout the country.   Accompanied by his daughter Agnes, who served as his nurse, Lee left Lexington on March 24, stopping first at Richmond, once the Capital of the Confederacy. On March 28 the train and its sleek Pullman car rolled into North Carolina. This was the first time Lee had experienced Pullman service. Word had gotten out that General Lee was on board, prompting large crowds to gather at stations along the way to see and cheer the Southern leader. Many of those who showed up were veterans of Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia. As the train rolled through their communities, many of them held up newborn babies for the General to see. Next came South Carolina, devastated by Sherman’s "March to the Sea" and still groaning under a Reconstruction government considered the South’s worst. One historian noted that 200 trial judges were unable to read and legislation was largely done through bribery. A drenching rain was pelting down across the Palmetto state’s countryside when the train finally arrived in Columbia for a 15- minute stop. Still struggling to survive the Reconstruction years, the state’s once proud Capital city had seen fully two thirds of its buildings leveled during the war.   Lee’s arrival in town, however brief, significantly boosted local spirits. A holiday was declared; local stores closed; and a parade to the train station by local citizens and veterans was quickly organized. Replete with the sounds of drums and trumpets, the long gray column of Confederate veterans marching in step despite pouring rain presented an awesome sight, indeed. Hosting the event was Colonel Alexander Haskell, who had commanded the Seventh South Carolina Cavalry under Lee. Endowed with a tenacious fighting spirit, Haskell was tapped by Lee to surrender the Confederate cavalry at Appomattox. Due to his severe physical disability, Lee had been unable to appear at earlier stops on the route. Since the train would only stop for a few minutes at Columbia, surely no one would  speak harshly of Lee if he did not appear. But a pause in Columbia was different! Looking out the train window, Lee could see some of his former officers in the crowd, proud, unbowed men who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him during the war. One person who stood out was Brigadier General E. Porter Alexander, Lee’s chief of artillery at Gettysburg. Alexander’s little daughter stood beside him and held her father’s hand. So, despite his physical and emotional debilitations, Lee knew that this time he must go to the men who had served him so faithfully during the long years of the war. He put on his hat and coat and stepped out into the cold, driving rain to look into the eyes of men who as one writer noted "had saluted him in a hundred rainstorms, on battlefields and on the march." As the band struck up "Dixie," Lee warmed to the occasion. While the crowd cheered, little girls stepped forward to hand him bouquets. Lee lifted his hat high above his head and bowed, then reached down to sweep General Alexander’s little daughter up in his arms and smile reassuringly at her. The drums continued to beat, the trumpets sounded, and the veterans lustily shouted out their Rebel yells. Then this magic moment was over! The train’s shrill whistle sounded. Lee waved one last time, stepped inside his coach, and disappeared from view. It was a priceless moment locked forever in time for South Carolinians who loved and revered this courtly gentleman of the "Lost Cause." Lee’s trip to the warmer southern climate for a few weeks, unfortunately, did not revive his health. He died a few  months later on October 12, 1870, at his home in Lexington. Robert E. Lee is fondly remembered today by many people who admire his noble character so nobly in war and peace. To this day, West Point remembers him as an outstanding student and resourceful Superintendent. From Oklahoma into Texas and across the Rio Grande River, one finds reminders of his greatness as a military engineer and officer in the Mexican War. All across Virginia his memory hovers over battlefields and campsites too numerous to mention. And lest anyone forget, up there on Arlington Heights across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C., Lee‘s spirit hovers forever over the serene landscape of Arlington National Cemetery. On June 30, 1972, the magnificent mansion erected on property once owned by George Washington was permanently named the "Arlington House, The Robert E. Lee Memorial." But Lee’s abiding greatness is recalled today more by his impeccable character than by monuments, memorials, highways, and schools erected to or named in his memory. After the war Lee was offered and accepted the position of President of tiny Washington College in Lexington. He did so to help bring healing to state and country he had fought so hard to defend. One time the Reverend John Leyburn, a local minister, called on Lee in the name of Cyrus McCormick, the wealthy inventor. Reverend Leyburn felt that if Lee would go to New York and personally call on McCormick, a generous donation to the college would be forthcoming. Lee was unwell at the time and said he could not make the trip. Leyburn misunderstood and remarked: "I think I see, General, that the real difficulty lies in your shrinking from the conspicuity of a visit to New York. I can readily understand that this would be unpleasant. But you need not be exposed to any publicity whatever; my friend (contact with McCormick) has given me carte blanche a compartment in the palace-car of the night train, and I will telegraph my friend to meet you secretly with his carriage on your arrival in New York." Realizing that he had been misunderstood, Lee, his eyes glistening, replied with deep feeling: "Doctor, I couldn’t go sneaking into New York in that way. When I go there, I’ll go in the daylight, and go like a man." As the war was winding down, many of Lee’s officers thought Southern armies should resort to guerilla warfare. Knowing that a powerful peace movement was underway in the North, they reasoned that guerilla activity under Lee would eventually force the North to sue for peace. The officer selected to talk with Lee about this possibility was the aforementioned General E. Porter Alexander. In his "Memoirs" Alexander recalled telling Lee  that guerilla warfare was the South’s only hope. He thought that at least two thirds of the Army of Northern Virginia would "scatter like rabbits & partridges in the woods, and they (the Yankees) could not scatter to catch us." Lee listened patiently, then replied that the army had only about 15,000 men with muskets. If 10,000 of them got away their numbers scattered throughout the former Confederate states would be too small to accomplish much. Then he drove his point home: "Yes! The surrender of this army is the end of the Confederacy. As for foreign help I’ve never believed we could gain our independence except by our own arms.  The homes of these men (his soldiers) have been overrun by the enemy & their families need them badly. "As Christian men, Gen. Alexander, you & I have no right to think for one moment of our personal feelings or affairs. We must consider only the effect which our action will have upon the country at large. "Suppose I should take your suggestion & order the army to disperse & make their way to their homes. The men would have no rations & they would be under no discipline. They are already demoralized by four years of war. They would have to plunder & rob to procure subsistence. "As for myself, while you young men might afford to go to bushwhacking, the only proper & dignified course for me would be to surrender myself & take the consequences of my actions. "It is still early in the spring & if the men can be quickly returned to their homes there is time to plant crops & begin to repair the ravages of war. That is what I must now try to bring about. I expect to meet with Gen. Grant this morning to surrender this army to him." Noticing tears swelling up in Alexander’s eyes, Lee smiled faintly and added: "I can tell you for your comfort that Gen. Grant will not demand unconditional surrender. He will give us as honorable terms as we have right to ask or expect. The men can go to their homes & will only be bound not to fight again until exchanged." Convinced that Lee was right, Alexander quickly informed some of his fellow officers who already planned to continue to fight from the brush. Thus, Lee’s sensible words very likely saved the lives of many Southern soldiers who already had fought over and beyond the call of duty. True to his word, Lee wasted no time seeking a pardon and restoration of his citizenship, hoping that by doing so he would set an example for others.  In June, 1865, he sent his official application to Grant, who strongly recommended it and forwarded it to Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. On October 2, 1865, Lee took a formal oath of allegiance to the United States. This was duly notarized and sent to Secretary of State William Seward. What happened after that remained a mystery for over 100 years. Strangely, the document never reached the desk of President Andrew Johnson; consequently when Lee died in 1870 the citizenship he desired was not restored. Finally, in 1970 a researcher in the National Archives found Lee’s notarized application for citizenship in a cardboard box. Learning of the discovery, Virginia Senator Harry F. Byrd introduced a congressional resolution for a posthumous pardon and restoration of citizenship to Lee. A Joint Congressional Resolution was overwhelmingly adopted and signed into law by President Gerald Ford at Arlington House on August 6, 1975. Shakespeare once noted: "In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility."  Such was the life and character of Robert E. Lee. Years after his death, a piece of paper on which Lee had written these words was discovered: "The gentleman does not needlessly and unnecessarily remind an offender of a wrong he may have committed against him. He cannot only forgive, he can forget. He strives for that nobleness of self and mildness of character which impart sufficient strength to let the past be the past." Such was the genius of Robert E. Lee!  A great commander in war, he had the good sense to move on with his life once the final gun had sounded. By doing so he towers above those who have tried to tarnish his good name over the years. As one writer aptly noted: "Forget the Lee of battle, and see the old man moving among Lexington’s children. Forget the general in gray, and see the old fellow in the black suit, moving back and forth between his home and his chapel. Focus sharply on this man. For this is Robert E. Lee." --------------------------------------- Elbert L. Watson is a retired professional historian who resides in Dacusville. He can be reached at