The Marble Man: Robert E. Lee and His Image in American Society

by Thomas Lawrence Connelly

Robert E. Lee was both a military genius and a spiritual leader, considered by many―southerners and nonsoutherners alike―to have been a near saint. In The Marble Man a leading Civil War military historian examines the hold of Lee on the American mind and traces the campaign in historiography that elevated him to national hero status.

Genres: Civil War, History, American Civil War, Biography, American History, Nonfiction

272 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1977

About the author

Born in 1938, Thomas Lawrence Connolly earned his Ph.D. from Rice in 1963. He taught at Presbyterian College and Mississippi State University before joining the Department of History at the University of South Carolina in 1969, where he taught until his death in 1991.

Reviews

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

While people often don't make the distinction, there is an important difference between history and the past. Simply put, the past is everything that happened before now, while history is how we interpret it. The past has happened and cannot be changed; how we interpret it, though, changes constantly. Sometimes this is because of different perspectives or a greater awareness of the effects or changing values. But there are also times when history changes because of the determination of a few to cement a particular interpretation that serves a specific set of goals.

At its core Thomas Connelly's book is about one such effort. In it he describes how a small group of dedicated people committed themselves to the goal of iconizing Robert E. Lee. Their very success is reflected in the enduring perception of Lee as one of the great commanders of military history, one whose ability might have enabled the Confederate cause to endure. As Connolly explains, such perceptions were far from universal in the immediate aftermath of the war, as figures such as Albert Sidney Johnston, P. G. T. Beauregard, and (especially) Stonewall Jackson were esteemed just as highly or even more so by Southerners. Upon Lee’s death in 1870, however, a small gathering consisting mainly of former officers of the Army of Northern Virginia and people associated with Washington College united in agreement to preserve Lee's memory, beginning a process that would define how Americans remembered not just Lee, but the entire Civil War.

Though many of the people involved in this effort did so out of admiration for Lee, Connelly highlights the self-interested motivations of some of the key participants. Foremost among them was Jubal Early, a former subordinate of Lee's and one of the leading proponents of the "Lost Cause." Connelly notes that Early's championing of Lee's reputation as a military commander not incidentally had the effect of bolstering his own stature, helping to gloss over his mistakes at the battle of Gettysburg. He and others became zealous defenders of Lee's reputation, campaigning for statues and producing laudatory descriptions of Lee's life and generalship while savaging any accounts which argued otherwise. One effect of this was to turn the Virginia theater into the decisive one of the war — a shift which reflected the Virginia-centric leadership of the Lee memorialization movement and which often came at the expense of the role of the other states of the Confederacy. By the turn of the century, Lee's image was undergoing a further transformation from a Southern hero into a national one, as a new generation romanticized his seemingly flawless personality and military genius, cementing his ironic status as an American hero. Though this image has since come under increasing criticism,their efforts endure today both in the republished books that embody this view and in the statuary prominently displayed throughout the country.

Though originally published four decades ago, Connelly's book remains a valuable study of Lee. His description of the posthumous sanctification of Lee provides a perceptive explanation of how the general became the preeminent symbol of the Lost Cause, eclipsing even the leader of the Confederacy himself. The recent controversy over Confederate monuments demonstrates just how relevant Connolly's analysis remains to understanding our nation today, as anyone seeking to understand it or the development of popular perceptions of the Civil War more generally cannot afford to ignore this important and unique book.

[Tom · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Marble Man is essential reading for anyone seeking to understand the evolution of Robert E. Lee's public image in the decades following the Civil War, and how advocates of the Lost Cause ideology came to view him less as a man than a Christ-like figure literally incapable or error. In crafting their vision of Lee, men like Jubal Early, Robert E. Lee Jr., and, eventually, Douglas Southall Freeman laid blame for all Lee's apparent flaws and mistakes at the feet of his subordinates (particularly James Longstreet), perceived rivals (Joseph Johnston, Stonewall Jackson), Confederate President Jefferson Davis (for a while at least), or the misapprehensions of the historically ignorant (anyone who's ever been in a Facebook Civil War group will be familiar with that old chestnut). They also denied Lee any semblance of personality. This saintly, if constipated, caricature of Lee persists in some circles to this day, despite the excellent work of authors like Connelly, Elizabeth Brown Pryor and Jonathan Horn to present a more nuanced historical figure.

The book isn't an indictment of Lee or the Confederate cause like the recent Robert E. Lee and Me: A Southerner's Reckoning with the Myth of the Lost Cause (which I also loved), but a critical look at how his original cultists and the greater Lost Cause movement substituted Lee the Man with Lee the Myth -- and perverted understanding of the U.S. Civil War all the way up to the present day. They blame Longstreet for Gettysburg; deny that the victories of Grant and Meade over Lee had anything to do with superior generalship; claim that Lee was against slavery despite much evidence to the contrary; and even insist he was a Union man at heart. After tracing their genesis, The Marble Man dismantles these delusions brilliantly.

Fascinating as it was to read about how the Lee mythos evolved over time, the book is arguably at its best toward the end, when Connelly builds a character profile of Lee that is far more interesting and nuanced (and realistic) than the simple, duty-bound automaton his hagiographers have presented previously. We learn about Lee the depressive. We learn of Lee's desire to redeem a family name he felt both he and his father had tarnished. We read of his legitimate devotion to Virginia. We discover that he was a habitual flirt. He was, too, devoted to his family. It's a cathartic end to an excellent book.

[Bob · Rating 4 out of 5]

Robert E. Lee has attained mythological status in American history and culture. This book traces the making of the myth, allowing the reader to follow how Lee transformed from a man to a marble man. The virtuous symbol of Lee supplanted any deeper historical or biographical concern. The primacy of the symbol comes at the expense of a deeper understanding of Lee and serves as the basis of the Lost Cause mythology of the failed Confederacy. The Lee/Lost Cause symbolism also comes at the considerable expense of other Confederate Generals, as the book makes abundantly clear. The book does an excellent job outlining the origins of the mythology, though I wish it had been more clear in exposing the elements of Lee hidden by the weight of the marble man.

[Jonathan · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Marble Man: Robert E. Lee and His Image in American Society by Thomas Lawrence Connelly

The admirers of Robert E. Lee managed to pull off something of a miracle: the military leader of the failed Rebellion, rather than being hung for treason, was widely promoted as a role model and valiant warrior. Connelly traces the postmortem evolution of Lee to sainthood and very symbol of the Lost Cause revisionist movement, to say nothing of an American national hero. Excellent book.

[Mallory Mac · Rating 1 out of 5]

I feel bad for giving such a low rating - the author, Connelly, clearly did a lot of research - but I really disliked this book.

The whole premise of the book is that after the Civil War, Lee followers conspired to build up his image as a national hero. The author argues that bias for Lee led to his revered image and that while he undoubtedly had strong moral character, it was a pointed act of collusion by Lee fans and by antebellum authors who were trying to rebuild the South's image that led to Lee's "deification."

My main issue with this book is that by trying to show that Lee followers were biased, the author himself is extremely biased. He makes unsubstantiated claims many, many times. When he does provide evidence for certain claims, it's clear that he's taking a pretty big leap from what's been recorded and what he claims it means.

Examples:

1) Connelly asserts that after the war, Virginians purposely formed a Lee "cult" (I use the quotes here to seriously question whether that's the right term to use; the author repeatedly calls it a cult without providing any evidence of its existence or purpose) to deify Lee. From the book:

"They were a clannish lot, possessed of that inbred Virginia sense of conceit, and fiercely jealous of their war hero. After his death, they gathered under the Lee standard for a variety of reasons. All admired Lee. Yet some championed him because of personal ambition, whereas others sought to cloak their own wartime mistakes. For those men of the first Lee cult, 1865-1885, the General would be the only important Rebel hero, a man incapable of military or personal error."

I don't understand how the above paragraph could be included in an academic look at Lee's life and image after the war. What evidence is there of a cult? That is such a strong term, one with a negative connotation. That assertion alone seems biased to me, let alone the description of the cult members (clannish; possessed of an inbred sense of conceit). Such strong, negatively-associated language with absolutely no follow up or evidence as to what it was used.

2) On Lee's military skill:

"Ex-Confederates had to come to terms with the fact that a cause they considered righteous had been crushed. To maintain some sense of victory, they would gather in crowded veterans' halls and exaggerate the military prowess of Robert E. Lee."

Again, no evidence is provided that these meetings even existed, and if they did, that Lee's military prowess was exaggerated. And how do we know, that even if they did happen and even if they did exaggerate Lee's military prowess, that they knowingly did so in order to maintain a sense of victory? The book is full of unsubstantiated assertions like this one. And then, a few pages later:

"Actually the postwar military view of Lee was not unreasonable. Most writers described him as a superb officer and the South's most distinguished general. All lauded his lofty character."

I don't understand how the author could write this sentence, then spend pages and pages claiming that Lee's followers built him up to be seen as more talented as other Confederate generals when he wasn't. It's so contradictory.

3. Connelly also uses excerpts from diaries and letters to make assertions about people's characters and motivations that I find to be unjustified. Two examples here:

a. He says that in the ten years before the Civil War, Lee was morose. He says that Lee's marriage was unhappy and he was lonely. What evidence does he have to make these claims? He provides excerpts from letters that Lee wrote to his wife saying he missed her and wishes they weren't separated; that he wants her to write often; that he's sad that she has health issues.

I find it preposterous that from this "evidence," Lee can be described as sad, lonely, and morose. Everything that Lee communicated in his letters represented normal human responses and represents feelings we all have. Does that mean we're all unhappy and morose?

b. After Lee's death, his wife wrote a letter to her cousin. She expressed her sadness, both at losing her husband and someone who was widely regarded, but also for the South in general. None of what she wrote is inaccurate; at that time, Lee was widely regarded and had even been lauded by the President for being a supporter of the reconstruction and for building the nation back up. However, from that letter, the author asserts that "Mary Lee already was thinking of her husband's future image." Thinking of his future image? She was stating facts. I just don't see how from that letter, the author gets that she's "thinking of his future image."

Anyway, these are just a few examples. I've highlighted and written all over this book and I don't want to spend any more time on it. I am just surprised at the high ratings when I felt that the clear bias and unsubstantiated claims made the book unreadable.

It's not the content itself that is poor - I actually think the author makes an interesting point and I would love to learn more about how certain figures throughout history get their image built up more and more over time (whether justified or not) - but the execution of his goal is too poor in my opinion. He needs to make fewer bold assertions, needs to provide more evidence of claims, and should focus on being less bias.

[Keith · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book charts Robert E. Lee’s rise from famous general to an almost cultish figure after the Civil War and to the present day. The book does not argue whether Lee deserves this status, but instead charts the making of a myth.

After the Civil War, Lee was admired in the South, but not overly adored. That adoration was reserved for Stonewall Jackson. However, after Lee’s death, ex officers of his army started making the myth of Lee as the perfect man. In part, they were trying to justify how a “good cause” could lose the war, and to cover their own wartimes blunders. Thus, Lee was raised to almost deific status, while Longstreet, one of this lieutenants, was denigrated and blamed for the South’s losses.

This cult was maintained by twisted retellings of history and threats among the Confederate memoir writers following the war. Any attempt to show Lee as anything but perfect was viciously attacked in the media by the other officers, and the offenders’ deeds during the war were excoriated.

This is a fascinating study of how myths are made.

[Jim Drewery · Rating 4 out of 5]

It seems only fitting the issue of bias in historical writing be addressed at the outset of this essay, for it is this issue which is at the core of Thomas Connelly's thesis in The Marble Man. Since in his estimation the majority of what had previously been published about Robert E. Lee was clearly and exceedingly biased, having been written by individuals with ulterior motives and objectives. While he does a splendid job of affirmatively arguing this point, a closer look at Connelly's work as a whole, reveals he too has a bit of a personal bias. This work is by far the most commercially successful and widely read of the half dozen or so by the author, however the vast majority of his research and writing focused neither on Lee nor the east, but rather much more on the Army of Tennessee and its operations to the west. There can be little doubt that he felt the eastern theater, where Lee's Army of Northern Virginia faced off with Union armies led by a succession of generals, had been given far too much attention, contending that other theaters played a pivotal part in war effort and that Lee's stubborn determination to maintain the integrity of Virginia and Richmond, hampered crucial efforts on other fronts. Thus it might be argued the author's vision is just as clouded by his own world view, as was that of Jubal Early, which Connelly painted so vividly in this volume.
Bias is a part of us all, and it is very difficult to separate one's personal values and beliefs completely from one's thinking or writing. Each person is a sum of their lives up to the moment of inquiry. A product of every element of their being; their upbringing, environment, education, social/economic status, religious beliefs are but a few of the variables which complete an individual be they historical figure or modern historian. Historians make informed judgments based upon the evidence at hand, placed in context with all that they have learned from years of study from which they have hopefully gleaned immense personal knowledge and insight. However at the end of the day it is still nothing more than a judgment, one which can be and frequently is within academia, subject to alternative interpretation by all other scholars. Thus it is suffice to say that while history can certainly be written objectively, that does not discount the fact every historian and writer has some sort of bias which will generally turn up with careful perusal and it is as likely as not that eventually some else will have a difference of opinion and say so in writing.
Through careful analysis of the existing historiography of the genre, Connelly detailed the steady transformation of Lee's image in popular memory and history. He affirms that during and immediately after the war in many parts of Dixie, other Southern generals like Stonewall Jackson and Joe Johnston commanded greater loyalty and acclaim in the minds of the majority of Southerners outside of Virginia. However in The Marble Man, he recounted how this image evolved dramatically after the war as a result of the efforts of what he terms the “Virginia” and “Lee” Cults. In what he describes as an extension of the Southern vision of the War Between the States not as a rebellion, but a continuation of the American Revolution, he asserts Lee was seen by his fellow Virginians as the very mold from which Southern grace and honor were to be derived.
Indeed he was a hero to many Virginians, who recalled how his unconventional tactics, splitting his already vastly outnumbered forces and tenaciously attacking during the Seven Days Battle in 1862, driving General George McClellan's army fleeing back to the Potomac and thwarted the Union threat on Richmond. As many Virginians saw it, Lee had led a brilliantly and honorably, burdened with vastly inferior resources or arms, supplies, and most importantly manpower in a heroic, but vain attempt to sustain the infant nation long enough to become established and internationally recognized, which initially had been a key component of the early Southern war strategy. Their motivation in Connelly's view was based to the furtherance of their own self-righteous sense of importance as the heirs of Jamestown, George Washington, and the Old Dominion.
Their view however had not been shared by the writers of the earliest histories of the conflict, who had concluded that while Lee had indeed been a resourceful, daring, unorthodox, even eerily intuitive of his opponents’ thoughts at times, he was also guilty of some woeful tactical blunders, the latter of which came about chiefly because of the actions or lack of action in some cases of Lee's primary subordinate officers. Most notably there is a startling difference between what the earliest histories said about the Battle of Gettysburg and what subsequently was written during reconstruction and later in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The earliest accounts laid the blame for Southern defeat largely upon the inaction of Jubal Early and Richard Ewell during the first day of the encounter by failing to take the initiative and seize the high ground along the infamous Cemetery Ridge after routing the Union General Howard's troops into head-long retreat. Instead Connelly also notes that Early and Ewell hesitated giving Union forces the opportunity to regroup on that very spot, which proved to be a deciding factor in the battle. Early also strongly argued against the advice of General James Longstreet that Lee order a flanking movement which he believed would have forced the Union to retreat into Maryland. Subsequent accounts erased this image and replaced it with one that found it was Longstreet's delay in attacking Meade's forces on day two, which led to Southern defeat that day in Pennsylvania and ultimately to the demise of the Confederacy. Additionally Early's actions at the Battle of Fort Stevens had been called into question as delayed and timid by some writers.
Such ideas were vehemently denied by Jubal Early who quickly emerged as the most ardent advocate of Lee's legacy after his death in 1870. His views were widely published in magazines, and helped him to cement his leadership of the Lee cult and he ferociously counter-attacked, launching scathing reviews of books or articles which disagreed with his view. Longstreet and other former Confederate officers who dared to criticize Lee's command abilities and legacy was being artificially inflated at their expense were crucified publicly as incompetent turn-coats trying to curry favor with their Yankee carpetbagger masters. He lashed out publicly also at accounts published by Northern writers, which he described as written by incompetents lacking the necessary military training and experience who were being fed lies by traitors, trying to cover their own tactical blunders which had doomed the masterful plans of the great man. Early's influence was largely responsible for rise of Lee as the dominant symbol of South's superiority of military leadership and tactics, which was overwhelmed by vast superiority of number men and supplies and crippled by the weak central government's leadership from Richmond and further hamstrung by blunders of his subordinates. The author sees him however as a man bent on rescuing his own sullied military reputation by promoting Lee as an infallible military genius while pointing out the grievous errors of his former comrades.
Lee's image was promoted to the one of national hero starting during the Progressive era in the 1890's and a decade after the turn of the twentieth century he had become a bona-fide American hero. Connelly attributes this to the renewed spirit of nationalism and spirit of re-unionism and recounts that Lee was deified further by Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson during this time. What really cemented Lee as the Marble Man was the biography published by Douglas Freeman in 1934, which reputed earlier findings of Lee’s shortcomings at Gettysburg and elsewhere, keying instead on his bold and unorthodox maneuvers which left Union armies feeling defeated and frustrated.
Lee's humility, loyalty to his family and to Virginia, as well as his concern and kindness towards private soldiers have been uniformly praised throughout this process, as has the essence of honor, grace, and ethics which seems to exude from Lee's memory. This was the officially sanctioned version of Lee's exploits and its influence had remained untouchable until Connelly brilliantly began peeling away what had been a seemingly impenetrable marble in which Lee's legacy had been cast. Drawing heavily upon Lee's correspondence, as well as a full spectrum of other primary secondary source materials, Connelly provides a strikingly different image of Lee as a man who grew up full of self-doubt, with a name he felt had been left in disgrace by his father, who had managed to sink into poverty and landed debtor's prison before absconding to the West Indies, despite his close connection to Washington himself.
The author reverses the dehumanization and nationalization of the Lee legacy very convincingly in this book, but it must be remembered that Connelly, like Early, Longstreet and others before him, has some axes of his own to grind. It seems like Lee himself was the only character in this cast that did not have one. Instead he remained a simple man upon whom great burdens and expectations had been laid and which he sought to faithfully discharge to the best of his abilities. Doing so in what he seemed to understand from the beginning was a rich man's war that would be fought by poor men, who stood to gain little for themselves if they should be lucky enough to survive and that is why his legacy has been cast as the iconic, honorable symbol of the Confederacy.

[John Lomnicki, · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thomas L Connelly was a researcher as well as a cogent writer. This is not a hatchet job, nor a book of praise- but a listing of facts and in the end the reader will have an understanding of the complexities of Robert Lee.

I believe that he was a general that won and lost battles. He had a unique family life because of whom he married and his military service. As to his priorities in life, they changed as did his responsibilities.

It is mentioned, but not exploited, his religious conviction and his Virginia family connection which influenced his decisions.

I enjoyed the book because of unanswered questions in my mind that were never answered in other reading. Were the questions answered here? -enough to have an understanding of this straightforward fellow.

[Landon W · Rating 5 out of 5]

First rate historiography. Connelly gives a compelling explanation of how the current, near-deific image of Robert E. Lee found its way into the canons of history. He does not, contrary to what some might say, offer a substantial analysis of what he thinks Lee was like, though some idea of that can be extracted from the discussion of what he was not. An excellent piece of scholarship and critique of the process of manufacturing history.

[Mark Cathey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Re-read August 2014. A fantastic study of symbols and of the evolution of myth over time. Lee, originally one of three stand-out Southern generals, became a Christ like figure for the South, then a national symbol. Connelly is a great writer and actually holds Lee in pretty high esteem. A haunting and very sympathetic epilogue chapter proves his bona fides.

[Mark Seeley · Rating 4 out of 5]

This well researched book cuts through the myths of General Lee. It reveals a man of intense chartacter commited to high integrity, reticence and duty above all else. It shows the humanity of Lee, the complexity of his personality, the troubled family lineage, the burden of his marriage and his perceived failures and dissatisfaction of his life. Connnelly paints a very sympathetic picture of who Robert E. Lee was and why he was so venerated post-Appomattox. He is the man of high character who was dealt defeat -- the image of anti-success. Connelly doesn't seem to appreciate Lee's religious outlook -- his Calvinist convictions or his reliance of divine Providence. Those where aspects that I found charming and attractive about Lee. I loved this statement Connelly cites: "I fear it is now out of the power of man, and in God alone must be our trust...but trust that a merciful Providence will not dash us from the height to which his smiles had raised us."

Connelly's notion of "the everlasting if" is still very much with us.

[Mark Harden · Rating 2 out of 5]

He makes his point. Again, and again, and again. And again.
In the Epilogue he attempts a psychological biography of Lee that he claims has never been done. It’s a stretch and also repetitive. The best parts were the description of how Early and other Lost Cause myth makers exaggerated Lee’s achievements to cover up their own failures. I was hoping he would do a more in depth critique of Freeman but it was not very much.

[Billy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just reminded of this one by Saturday's WSJ

[Jim · Rating 3 out of 5]

Was reminded the other day that I had read this book in my early historical career, and then went to the university the author taught at, though I missed ever taking a class from him.